In the morning Emily made her way to breakfast wearing her house colors, she was quite fond of the warm scarlet and gold and it was an amazing offset from the horrible drab dirty walls at the city homes and orphanages. Her first few classes proved to be so interesting that her homework was completed well before lunch.
Her natural bookish nature had led her to read her textbooks well before the start of term, and now Emily found herself packing up her bag and preparing to head to her next class, already mulling over questions she had about the material.
"Miss Arden, at some point during the week, I would like to have a meeting with you regarding your adjustments." Professor McGonagall called. The girl looked up at the strict woman and wondered why the deputy headmistress could possibly be calling on her.
"Yes, Professor." She said as she ran out the door. Her next class was Potions, and Emily panicked realizing that she was late. She bolted down towards the dungeons, running as fast as she could, the portraits in the deserted hallways yelling in protest in her wake. She made her way down the many stairs to the dungeons as fast as she could, and as she reached the last few steps; her overly large robes caught about her ankles and propelled her onto her stomach on the stone floor. Her things scattered about the floor and she had the wind knocked out of her. To her horror, heavy footsteps came to a halt at the line of her vision.
"Ten points from Gryffindor for behavior unbecoming of a student." A voice hissed. Emily's chest spammed a few more times before she was able to allow a loud gasp and felt the sweet air flow into her lungs. She pushed herself up onto her knees and she looked up at the heavy black boots before her. Her eyes slowly looked up the form before her and saw a man looking down his large nose, scrutinizing her with emotionless black eyes.
"Sorry sir." She said, quickly trying to gather her scattered bag. With a wave of is wand; everything flew back into the bag and flew up into his hand. Emily pushed herself up to her feet and looked up at the tall man, she could feel her shoulders shirk in fear, but she took a breath, and squared herself to the man.
"Miss Arden, is it? I suggest you get into the classroom immediately." He spoke. Emily felt her blood run cold and she stared at the man, a cool horror ran through her, and she nodded, swallowing tears that threatened to expose themselves.
The man nodded his head towards the potions classroom and Emily quickly ran into the classroom and saw the only seat left was the one at the very front closest to his desk. Not a moment later the great oak door to the dungeon slammed with a bang behind him as he entered.
The rest of class Emily nursed her brushed elbows, and her tender ribs. While the professor had mended her things, her ink had still spilled and she found that her already used potions book was neatly saturated through many of the pages. Page three hundred and twenty four was half blotted out. The pages were frail and were cracking from the age of the paper, and they were now stuck together. Emily could feel a rush of anger and frustration well in her and she felt like crying.
"Miss Arden!" Emily's head snapped up and she looked towards the dark man.
"And what can essence of dittany be used for?"
"Healing sir."
"Elaborate"
"Cretan Dittany, or False Dittany is a flowering plant that in it's non-magical state can act as an organic infection combatant, and when harvested by magical means will help stanch bleeding and promote skin growth to ultimately prevent skin infection."
"Hmm, it seems we have another Gryffindor know-it-all" He sneered down at the girl. Emily's cheeks flared and she heard snickers come from around the room.
The rest of class was spent preparing ingredients they would be using in a potion the next day. Emily's overly long sleeves kept getting in her way, and every time she went to chop a slug liver the graying sleeves that simply refused to stay out of the way would cover her hands.
"Miss Arden, perhaps properly fitting attire would be appropriate, or do you simply find yourself ignorant of common sense when selecting robes?" The professor asked scathingly. Emily remained silent and looked down at her saturated sleeves, trying to roll them up, and as they came up they knocked her potions text from the table and splattered the chopped bits of finely cut slug everywhere.
With a wave of the professor's wand, her neatly chopped slug livers were gone, and the mess that had also ensued was banished with the bits on her robes.
"You can make another attempt at today's lesson tonight in detention. 8pm." He spat, walking out of the way. At the conclusion of class, Emily gathered her things and bolted from the classroom. She wouldn't cry, she refused. She was used to strict and brash people, but this man was in a league of his own. As she walked she reminded herself that she would rather be right there, learning magic than anywhere else in the world.
The rest of her classes seemed to be much more gentle than before. The word had spread within the first years that a Gryffindor had received detention on the first day with snape. With the word rapidly making its way through the school, Emily decided to hide away in a back corner of the library to work through her homework for the evening classes. As she went back to her ink soaked potions text, Emily let out a loud sigh and rested her head on the table. She put her head on her arm as she lifted the cover of the crusty stained book.
"Err… would you mind if I sat here?" A voice asked. Emily looked up, straightened and quickly wiped her face clear of her welling tears and stared at the boy.
"No, of course" She said, making room for the boy who sat down, pulling out his fresh texts.
"Rough day?" He asked. Emily looked at the Ravenclaw boy, and she could feel a nagging feeling at the back of her mind, but she ignored it.
"Yeah." She squeaked out, straightening herself to begin her potions essay.
"Well, it's my first day as well, and I was late to most of my classes, so I think it can only get better from here." He said. Emily looked up, a bit confused.
"You're not a first year though."
"No, I transferred here from Durmstrang." Emily was strangely comforted by the fact that at least this boy could relate in some way.
"I'm Emily." She said, extending her hand to the boy.
"Alex" he said as he grasped her smaller hand and the moment their hands touched a low current of energy transpired between them, and they immediately pulled their hands back. They stared at each other with furrowed eyebrows for a moment.
"What was…"?
"I don't know... static?" He responded. Emily rubbed her hand a bit and looked up at the clock when it started to chime.
"Oh no!" She gasped, scrambling for her books.
"What? Is everything okay?" The boy asked, a panicked look coming to his eye.
"I-I'm late, for detention."
"Oh, well, good luck. It was nice meeting you." The boy said. Emily stared up at the boy once more, feeling something familiar about him, but she heard the clock chime one last time, and she gave him a short smile before she bolted off towards the dungeons.