"There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to the tall kid with the red hair."

"Wearing the glasses?"

"Did you see his face?"

"Did you see his scar?"

Whispered followed Harry from the moment he left his dormitory the next morning.

"Just ignore them, Harry," Elizabeth told him.

"Ignore them?" said Ron. "How can he ignore them? They're everywhere!"

"Really, Ron. I hadn't noticed," said Elizabeth sarcastically.

Hogwarts was a virtual plethora of mazes and tricks.

"You know, my uncle told me about this place in the Muggle world he read about, in the states, you know," said Elizabeth.

"And?" Ron said.

"Well, it reminds me of this place. It has doors that open to nowhere and lots of staircases, some that lead to the ceiling."

"Of course, leave it to William Wellington to find a place like that."

"You know, your dad doesn't exactly keep his love of all things Muggle under wraps, Ron."

They were having the worst luck finding their classes. They had managed to somehow wind up on Filch's bad side on the first day. Elizabeth had been talking about her uncle when Filch popped out of nowhere and suddenly started off on what a trouble maker William and his friends had been in their day. If that wasn't enough to make Filch dislike them, Elizabeth had to ask Filch how he ever got rid of that tail. He was threatening to lock them in the Dungeons when they were rescued by Professor Quirrell, who was passing by.

As if Argus Filch running around the school with his creepy, dust-coloured cat Mrs. Norris wasn't bad enough, there were also classes and intimidating professors to worry about. Elizabeth couldn't help but wonder why she's called Mrs. Norris, though. She certainly hoped there wasn't a Mr. Norris. She thought that maybe, at one point, she was just Miss Norris and then Filch had married her. She didn't put it above him to marry a cat. He seemed like the pathetic kind of man who would do such a thing.

Elizabeth was bored by her classes. Herbology with Professor Sprout was far from interesting, although Neville seemed rather engrossed in the lesson. History of Magic had to be the unrivaled contender for most boring. It was taught by Professor Binns, a ghost, who hadn't seemed to realise he was dead. He could have very well bored students to death with his torturously slow, facts only lessons. Elizabeth didn't even like Charms. Professor Flitwick, the head of Ravenclaw House, taught it and he was a titchy little wizard, who seemed very enthusiastic about everything.

Professor McGonagall was still the one professor Elizabeth absolutely wanted to avoid. She gave them a stern talking-to the moment they entered her class. Her class had the potential to be exciting, but she quickly killed that. They took long, excruciating notes, and were each given a match to turn into a needle. Hermione Granger made her match all silver and pointy. Professor McGonagall showed the class and Elizabeth could tell Hermione was very proud of herself. It wasn't impressive to Elizabeth at all. She knew how to change forks into jacks. She wasn't supposed to do it, but she could. The Ministry had stopped caring if a young girl changed the silverware into toys. They couldn't go sending every child that accidently performed magic to Azkaban, now could they? Of course, after she had learned she could do this, it wasn't accidental anymore when it happened. The way the Ministry saw it, if a child did magic deemed irrelevant or unimportant in private, like transfigure household items or levitate their toys in the wizarding world, it wasn't worth much Ministry action beyond a letter. Punishment from one's parents was suitable enough and Margaret was always sure to punish Elizabeth. Matches to needles was still nothing to her, as she once turned all the doorknobs in the house into marshmallows when she was six and Margaret had locked her in her room as a timeout. By the end of class, she had no trouble at all changing her match into a shiny silver needle. Professor McGonagall did not seem impressed by her at all, though.

"Your brother could do the same thing his first year," she said.

Elizabeth couldn't help but feel that whatever hostility Professor McGonagall had towards her was William's fault. Her comments reminded her even more of Margaret, who would always boast of Richard when Elizabeth accomplished something and did the same of her to him, as to not install a sense of pride in either of them.

She was looking forward to Defence Against the Dark Arts. It was her uncle's specialty. She knew lots of spells from him that she was eager to try, but Quirrell's lesson turned out to be a joke. His class smelled of garlic because he was afraid of vampires, and that turban on his head bothered Elizabeth because whenever he would write something on the board it would block her view. She thought he looked silly wearing it. Fred and George said he had garlic in it, so he was protected wherever he went. She didn't know if she believed that, but thought it could be true. Professor Quirrell seemed odd enough to do it and his stuttering problem was a bit of a bother when trying to take notes during his lectures.

Friday was the most dreadful day for Elizabeth. They had double Potions with the Slytherins and she wanted to stay as far away from them as possible. She walked into the Great Hall for breakfast, noticing the mail had already arrived. She took a seat next to Harry and Ron, who was sucking on his finger. She noticed a letter addressed to her and started laughing at Ron.

"I see you've met Odysseus," she said.

"Bloody bird," he mumbled.

She ripped the letter open. "Oh no!"

"What?" Ron mumbled, his finger back in his mouth.

Elizabeth spun around to look at the Ravenclaw table. "Where's Richard?"

"Hafen't 'een 'im," Ron said.

"I'll catch up with you at Potions," she said, already having run from the table. She began down the hall towards the Gryffindor common room when she heard a voice.

"Elizabeth Ann, get over here."

She spun around, ready to hit him. "You told on me!"

"I did not!"

Elizabeth held up her letter. "I got a letter from Gran. She's says she's knows what happened."

Richard ripped the letter from her, reading it. He looked up at her, then back at the letter. He finished and handed her a letter from Margaret to him. "She said the same thing to me."

Elizabeth took the letter and read it over. Sure enough, it was full of the same accusations and threats that were in her letter.

"Gran sends them every year," Richard said. "It's just a scare tactic so you don't actually go causing trouble."

"Oh," Elizabeth said as she looked over the letter. "Oh, I get it."

Richard snatched his letter back. "Sure you do." She started off, but he grabbed her arm. "Hey, what have you learned about him? Everyone's dying to know."

Elizabeth pulled her arm away. "He lives with Muggles and he just found out he's a wizard."

"You're kidding me? The whole world knows who he is, how can he not?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "You wanted to know and that's what I know. He's not very talkative."

Richard scoffed. "Yeah, I bet not to you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Go to class, Elizabeth Ann."

He handed her back her letter and walked away. He was already out of sight when she noticed he had slipped her a note. On the front was Professor Snape's name in her uncle's handwriting. She wanted to open it up and read it, but knew she had better not. William was terribly secretive and if he found out she was reading his letters, he'd punish her himself, and she feared being punished by William more than by Margaret.

Elizabeth wasn't very happy after Potions. Actually, she was in a particularly sour mood. The lesson had gone horribly, Professor Snape took points from Gryffindor, and not even for any justifiable reason other than he was truly an unpleasant person.

Potions lessons took place down in the dungeons, where it was considerably colder than the rest of the castle and rather creepy. Professor Snape took roll call, and like the other teachers, stopped at Harry's name.

"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new ─ celebrity."

Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered. He was really starting to get on her nerves. Professor Snape continued on with role call, and unexpectedly stopped at Elizabeth's name.

"Well, another Wellington in Gryffindor," he said. "Must be terrible for your grandmother. She hasn't died of disappointment, now, has she?"

Elizabeth was busy staring down at the note "Why? Has yours?" she said, not thinking.

The Gryffindors laughed, but the Slytherins were not amused. Professor Snape approached her, slamming his hand on her desk. Her head shot up to him staring at her. His eyes were black and empty. They reminded her of dark tunnels.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you first impressions are the most important?" he hissed.

"My uncle," she said, sliding the note to his hand.

He looked down at it before snatching it up and heading back to the front of the class. "Five points from Gryffindor for your cheek, Wellington."

He then gave a speech, that Elizabeth later told Richard about, saying it was his misplaced affection speech. Much like Filch with Mrs. Norris, Elizabeth was sure if Snape could marry Potions, he would.

Silence followed his odd little speech, and Harry and Ron exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione Granger was on the edge of her seat and Elizabeth cursed herself for getting stuck next to Hermione again. The lesson only got worse. Snape started firing questions at Harry that even Elizabeth couldn't answer right away. Hermione Granger was dancing in her seat practically, her hand stretched towards the ceiling. As Hermione had told Elizabeth that morning, she had read all of her textbooks several times and any other book she could get her hands on. She didn't understand how a swot like Hermione wound in Gryffindor and not Ravenclaw where she clearly belonged.

Snape snapped at Hermione to sit down and started to hiss at Harry the answers to his questions. Elizabeth thought he was being way too hard on Harry, and she wondered why. She thought it wasn't fair that just because he was a famous wizard he should have to know everything. He had lived with Muggles his entire life before Hagrid rescued him this summer and Elizabeth believed that he should have been given some time to adjust to his new life. After all, she figured it must have been a lot to absorb to learn you saved the wizarding world from evil after spending eleven years living life in a cupboard under the stairs thinking you were an unimportant nobody.

He then put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them, criticising almost everyone except Malfoy. He stopped by Elizabeth and Hermione's table and instead of insulting them he simply sneered in disgust and swept away. He seemed to like Malfoy and Elizabeth could guess why. Slytherins stuck with other Slytherins, especially someone like Draco Malfoy and his family.

Professor Snape was busy praising Malfoy when Neville Longbottom melted Seamus Finnigan's cauldron and their potion spilled all over the floor. Neville had been drenched in it and began sprouting red boils all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire."

Elizabeth felt bad for Neville. He had just screwed up his potion and was covered in painful boils. He didn't need Snape yelling at him too.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.

"You ─ Potter ─ why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

This was so unfair that Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Elizabeth beat him to it.

"Excuse me, Professor Snape," said Elizabeth, "but how is Neville's mistake Harry's fault?"

Snape whipped around and stared at her. "Would you like detention, Wellington," said Professor Snape, "because it certainly seems that way to me."

"No, I'm just saying it's not fair that you're ─"

"Fair? I'm sorry, I must have missed something. When did it become up to you to decide what is fair, Miss Wellington?"

"No need to take your anger out on me or Harry."

"Another five points for your insolent behaviour."

"How is that being insolent?"

The class would have laughed if they weren't so afraid of Snape at this point.

"Ten points," snapped Professor Snape.

Seething, Elizabeth said the first thing to mind, not caring how disrespectful she came off. "I'm sure my grandmother will love telling the Ministry's authority over Hogwarts about this."

She had no plans to actually write to her grandmother that she had gotten in trouble during her first Potions lessons, but Snape didn't have to know that. He didn't say anything in response to Elizabeth's threat. He just stood there, glaring menacingly at her. Finally, Professor Snape whisked away from her, his robes billowing behind him. The whole class was silent. Elizabeth gripped her wand tightly. Just then her cauldron dented. Snape whipped around at the sound.

"Wellington!" he snarled. "What have you done?"

"I dented my cauldron, sir," she gritted through her teeth. The other side of the cauldron bent in causing it to look like an hourglass.

Elizabeth, like William, had trouble controlling her magic at an early age. She wasn't as powerful as William though, so she couldn't shatter glass or engulf a settee in fire, but she could dent metal fairly easily. In fact, she was so good at this that more than once had all the drapery rods had to be replaced and the silver serving tray Margaret had inherited from her mother was no longer flat, but now a V shape. Margaret said she had a fondness for metal because whenever she turned around there was Elizabeth either transforming it into something it shouldn't be, or breaking it altogether.

"It happens," she added.

Professor Snape glared at her and before he could take five points from Gryffindor, the cauldron collapsed in on itself like a metal disc, spilling the potion all over. Professor Snape growled at her.

"I wouldn't if you're wearing any metal," Elizabeth warned.

As they climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, Elizabeth was still burning mad. She was lucky she hadn't bent the cauldrons of everyone in class.

"I can't believe he didn't give you detention for threatening to tell your gran on him," Ron said.

"Draco Malfoy threatens to tell his father on people all the time and it works so why can't I do it?"

Ron just shrugged.

"I can't believe you can bend metal," Harry said, clearly fascinated that such magic existed.

"Yeah, it's a real talent," Ron said sarcastically.

"You're just sore about your bed frame," she snapped. "You shouldn't have angered me."

"You caused the whole thing to break."

"It didn't break, it just bent in the middle."

"How was I supposed to sleep on that?"

Elizabeth stopped to face him. She calmly said, "I'll hit you."

She walked quickly away from them and towards the common room. She was surprised to find Richard along the way with Percy. He held out a quill and a letter.

"Sign this," he said.

"What is it?" She wasn't particularly in the mood for Richard, or anyone else at that moment.

"It's for Gramps' birthday, just sign it."

Elizabeth reluctantly took the quill and letter. "Turn around," she demanded.

He did, allowing her to put the letter on his back. She quickly signed it dotting her I with force, causing Richard to shout in pain.

"Elizabeth Ann!" He whirled around, ripping the letter and quill from her.

"How do you expect to send that?" she asked.

"Telemachus' maiden voyage," he said puffing out his chest, clearly quite proud of the little bird.

"He can't even sit on his perch, let alone fly all the way back to Diagon Alley."

Richard's chest deflated. "He can too!" He folded the letter and put it in his pocket. "You just wait, he'll not only make it there, he'll come all the way back in no time."

Elizabeth laughed at the thought of the little bird trying to fly this summer when Richard let him out of his cage. He got less than a half a metre and fell right to the floor, squawking as he rolled around in an attempt to get back up.

"What are you laughing at?" Richard asked as Elizabeth climbed the stairs. "He'll fly! You just wait! He'll fly right now and you'll have to apologise for everything you've ever said about him!"

Elizabeth reached the top of the landing and turned around to look at him. "No, he won't," she said confidently. "He's fallen every time he's tried. Never made it more than a metre."

"He will!"

"Sure he will."

"He will right now!"

"No, he won't."

"I swear he will. I'll go to Owlery right now and send this with him." Richard held up the letter.

Elizabeth put her hands on her hips. "Then go. I don't believe you, Richard. If that bird can fly I'll let Odysseus bite me."

"Okay! Let's go."

"Go."

A crowd of students had gathered around to listen.

"Go put your books away and we'll go."

"Why do I have to go?"

"So you can be there to eat your words when Telemachus does fly."

"He's not going to fly."

"He will."

"He won't."

They were used to a fast form of arguing in which neither of them ever stopped a second to think about what they were saying and one had barely finished the last word of their sentence before the other had started right back with their response.

"Go put your books away and we'll see."

"Fine. He's not going to fly though."

"He will and then you'll have to let Odysseus bite you."

"He won't and then we'll have to get Talons again and Gran will have a right fit about it."

With that, she turned and her heel and stomped back all the way to the common room. She hated the day she was having.

A/N: Plot points and quotes from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone by J.K. Rowling, Chapter 8, The Potions Master, pages 131 to 139.