Chapter Two
A Girl Named Hermione
The Dursleys spent the month of August ignoring Jane, which she didn't mind because it gave her the opportunity to read her new schoolbooks. She was excited about all of the classes, but she was especially interested in the magical creatures. She read Fantastic Beasts twice and she decided the class she was most looking forward to was Kettleburn's.
She also played with Crookshanks, which was tight in the cupboard. She quickly learned he was very affectionate and loved to have his belly rubbed. Jane tried to make a toy for him from an old shoelace, but there wasn't a lot of room to twitch it around for him.
"I'm sorry, Crooks," she said, one afternoon, as they lay on her bed, looking at The Standard Book of Spells, Grade One. "It'll be better at Hogwarts."
Crookshanks yowled quietly and she stroked his soft fur. "Not much longer now," she murmured, laying her head back. "Then we'll be out of here."
The first of September arrived before she knew it and while Uncle Vernon agreed to drive her to King's Cross, she soon thought it was only so that he could see her proved an idiot when there turned out not to be any Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters.
There had to be one.
Jane looked frantically back and forth between the large plastic nine and the large plastic ten. There wasn't any large plastic nine-and-three-quarters, and Uncle Vernon was long gone. Perhaps this was how they planned to finally be rid of Jane, to leave her in the train station forever.
But there had to be a platform. Hogwarts was real; Diagon Alley had been real...
In his carrier on her trolley, Crookshanks yowled.
"Packed with Muggles, of course!"
Jane looked over her shoulder. There was a family, all with flaming red hair. Jane watched as the woman led her children towards where Jane was standing. All but the youngest had trunks like Jane's and they had an owl, just like she'd seen in Diagon Alley.
She watched intently as the woman sent her oldest son toward the barrier, but a group of people walked in between them and Jane couldn't see what he had done. She was wasting time. She had to go now.
"Fred, you're next," the woman said to her next son, who Jane realized was one of twins.
"I'm not Fred," he protested. "I'm George! Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother."
"Sorry, George, dear," his flustered-looking mother said.
The boy laughed. "Only joking. I am Fred." He took off with his trolley and again, Jane watched to see what he did. She couldn't tell. It was now or never.
She took a deep breath, tucked her hair behind her ears and said, "Excuse me." They all looked at her.
The little sister's eyes went wide. "Mum! That's—"
"Ginny," her mother began to admonish, but then she stopped. "Merlin, you're right." Then, she seemed to compose herself. "I'm so sorry, dear. Did you need help?"
"Yes, please." Jane tried to ignore the stares of the three remaining children. She couldn't understand what was so odd about her. "I just need a little help-" She looked to where Fred and his brother had disappeared.
"Oh! The platform. Of course, this is your first time. It's quite easy; you don't have to do anything but go right up to the barrier and pass through. George will show you, won't you, George?"
"What are you talking about, Mum? I'm Fred!"
"George!"
"All right, all right." George grinned at Jane. "It's easy. C'mon." He took off at a bit of a run and Jane had to hurry to keep up on her much-shorter legs.
"Won't we hit it?" she asked worriedly.
"Nope," George said. "Watch." And at the very moment they should have crashed into solid brick wall, they passed smoothly through it, as though it were made of nothing but air. On the other side of the barrier, students and their families were milling about, no sign of the Muggle station they'd left behind evident whatsoever.
"Let's get out of the way," George said, nodding to the right. "Mum's going to send Ron through next; woman's like clockwork. She has to be, or she wouldn't get us all off in time. I'm George, by the way. George Weasley." They shook hands.
"Jane Potter."
He smirked. "I know."
She clapped a hand to her forehead. "So that's why-"
"Oi, George!" Fred was approaching them now. "Come and see what Lee's got. It's a spider."
"Wicked!" George's face lit up. "Think we can get Ron over there?" He turned back to Jane. "Like spiders?"
She shrugged. "I guess." There had been spiders in the cupboard under the stairs and she hadn't minded them. When she was younger, she'd talked to them—none had talked back, though. Maybe a magical spider would be different.
"This is Jane," George explained. "Jane Potter."
Fred's eyes widened. "Bloody hell. It really is her. Hey, do you remember what You-Know-Who looked like?"
Jane shook her head. "No. I don't remember anything. I only found out about magic a month ago."
"Wow," Fred breathed. George looked surprised, too. "Our whole family's magic. So you know all about Muggle stuff, right?"
Jane shrugged. "I guess. I grew up with Muggles."
"Brilliant." Fred looked as if he was as interested in Muggles as Jane was in magic. "Come and see the tarantula."
A boy with dreadlocks was surrounded by a knot of older students, but they all parted as the twins approached, flanking Jane.
"Who's this?" the boy, who she supposed was Lee, said.
Fred clapped a hand on her shoulder. "Jane Potter."
"Blimey," Lee said. "I'd forgotten she was going to be two years behind us. Do you like spiders?"
Jane wasn't sure she would ever get used to people gaping at her. She'd been quickly introduced to the twins' third-year friends Lee, Angelina, and Alicia. Lee was presently letting the spider climb up her arm, a ticklish feeling that wasn't altogether unpleasant, while Fred and George were carrying her trunk onto the train.
"Fred! George! There you are!" Mrs. Weasley was approaching, her two youngest in tow. "Hello, Jane, dear. I see George got you in all right."
"Yes, Mrs. Weasley, thank you." Jane smiled, feeling like the effect was somewhat lost by the fact that the spider was now slowly latching on to her hair as it made its way up. The youngest Weasley boy was looking green.
"Well, you had all better get yourselves on the train," Mrs. Weasley said, looking at the clock on the wall. "It will be leaving soon."
Jane returned the spider to Lee, while George protested, "Mum, do you think the Hogwarts Express has ever left with this many people still on the platform?"
"I don't know, but I certainly do not want to find out this year." She kissed her youngest son quickly, to his chagrin, then each twin. The girl was beginning to look upset.
"I'll miss you," she said quickly. "I wish I could come early; I don't want to be the last one left."
"We'll send you letters."
"We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat."
Their sister's lip trembled.
"Relax, Ginny," Fred said. "It's only a year. Then you can come and you'll be in Gryffindor with the four of us and Jane."
"You really think you'll be in Gryffindor?" Ginny asked Jane, eyes wide. "You know?"
Jane looked at the twins. "I don't know what Gryffindor is."
The twins exchanged a significant glance over her head. "You'll find out," Fred said. "It's brilliant. All right. On the train with you." They led her to the door of the nearest car and bowed her on. Then, they went back to talk to their mother and siblings and Jane was alone. Listening to the fading conversation between the Weasleys (Jane tried to pretend she hadn't heard Mrs. Weasley ask the twins to keep an eye on her), she tried to look for her trunk.
She found it in a compartment that was already occupied by a girl. She looked like a first year, judging by size, but Jane could see nothing else of her but her bushy brown hair and black Hogwarts robes. The rest of her was buried in a thick, leather-bound book.
Jane opened the door. "Excuse me. Do you mind if I sit here?"
The girl looked up in surprise. "Of course not. Is this your cat? He's quite nice." Before Jane could answer, the other girl's eyes widened. "You're Jane Potter!"
"Yeah," Jane said. At least this was better than her Muggle primary school, where her classmates and most of her teachers could never remember her name.
"I've read all about you," she said excitedly. "I'm Hermione Granger, by the way. I didn't even know I was a witch until last month. We were all so surprised."
Jane felt instant relief. "I didn't know I was a witch either!" Maybe she wouldn't be totally alone and clueless, though it already seemed like Hermione knew a lot more than Jane did.
"You didn't?" Hermione's eyebrows rose. "But you defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!"
"I guess," Jane said. "I don't remember. I grew up with my Muggle aunt and uncle." She went over to the luggage rack and let Crookshanks out of his carrier. He curled up on the seat and went to sleep.
Hermione still looked surprised, but she slid over on her seat and laid her book next to her. Jane supposed this was supposed to look inviting. "I can tell you loads of things. I've read Hogwarts: a History."
Hermione proceeded to launch into a description of what she'd read about Jane, the four Hogwarts houses (one of which was Gryffindor) and the castle. Jane couldn't wait to see the changing ceiling in the Great Hall.
They were engaged in conversation when the door slid open. "Excuse me," said a round-faced boy. "Have you seen a toad? I've lost mine."
Hermione looked around like the toad might be in plain sight. "No. We'll help you look. Are you going to every compartment?"
The boy nodded and Hermione breezed past him into the corridor. Jane followed. She wanted to help—she'd have been heartbroken if anything happened to Crookshanks.
"What's his name?" she asked the boy. "I mean, what's your name."
"I'm Neville," he said. "Neville Longbottom. My toad's Trevor."
"I'm Hermione Granger," Hermione said. "This is Jane Potter."
Neville looked surprised but he didn't say anything. Hermione opened the first door. "Have you seen a toad? Neville's lost one."
There were a group of girls in the compartment who looked like they were in their year. They reminded Jane of the girls at her primary school who had traveled in packs.
"A toad? You have a toad?" The girl who said this had long brown hair and a pug nose. "Who's had a toad in this decade?"
Neville turned red. "My Great-Uncle Algie gave him to me when I got my letter." He started to cry and some of the girls laughed. Jane put her arm around him. It looked like there were people just like the Dursleys in the wizarding world too.
"Don't listen to Pansy," said one of a pair of twins, giving the pug-nosed girl a sharp look. "We'll keep an eye out. Don't cry."
Pansy's eyes snapped to Jane's forehead. "You're Jane Potter," she said. "What did you say your name was?" she asked Hermione.
"Hermione Granger. My parents are dentists."
Pansy wrinkled her a nose. "What's a dentist? Sounds Muggle."
"Yes," Hermione said, sounding proud. "I'm the first witch in our family. A dentist is someone who cares for peoples' teeth."
Pansy looked horrified. "That sounds absolutely disgusting. Muggles are barbaric."
"Well, I've seen that treat trolley," Hermione said, with her chin in the air. "I'd hate to see the state of wizards' teeth."
Pansy frowned. "My teeth are perfectly fine without some Muggle's hands in my mouth, thank you very much." She closed her compartment door, leaving Jane, Hermione, and Neville standing in the corridor.
"I hope she's not in my house," Jane said.
"Do you know what house you'll be in?" Hermione asked, as they walked on. "Do you have any idea?"
Jane shrugged. "Someone said I might be in Gryffindor."
"I kind of hope I'm in Gryffindor," Hermione said. "It sounds like the best house—that or Ravenclaw, maybe."
"Bet I'm in Hufflepuff," Neville said mournfully. "They all say they're a bunch of duffers. My mum and dad were in Gryffindor, but I'm practically Muggle. My gran thought I was a Squib. I'll be the worst in our year."
"What's a Squib?" Jane asked.
"Someone who's born in a wizard family but can't do magic. Gran went all through our genealogy and found that someone had been a Squib back in 1614. She was so sure I'd never get my letter."
"But you did," Jane said encouragingly, "and look at me—you've got magic family; you know loads more than me. I'll be the duffer."
Neville looked shocked. "But you're Jane Potter!"
"Yeah, and what's that mean when I don't know anything? I don't even remember anything about-" Jane stopped. "You-Know-Who."
Neville shook his head. "I'm sure you'll be in Gryffindor. You have to be in Gryffindor."
"What are you lot doing out of your compartment?" A red-haired boy with a red and gold badge with a P on it was approaching them. Jane recognized him as the oldest Weasley boy.
"Neville's lost his toad," Hermione said.
The older boy put his hands on his hips. "Then you should inform a prefect immediately. It just so happens that I am one. I'm Percy Weasley. I'll find your toad." He looked pleased to have something to do.
"What house are you in?" Hermione asked, as they followed him down the corridor. "I was wondering, as I've read about them. I keep thinking I'd like to be in Gryffindor, but Ravenclaw might be nice, too."
"I'm in Gryffindor," Percy said. "The Weasleys have been all-Gryffindor for generations. But there's certainly nothing wrong with the other houses. The Hufflepuffs are a nice bunch; they look out for each other. Gryffindor does, too. Your house is supposed to be your family at Hogwarts."
That sounded nice to Jane. She'd always wanted a family.
"What about Ravenclaw?" Hermione asked.
"They say that's the house for ones who like to study, but that's not entirely true." Percy opened one of the empty compartments and stuck his head in. "There are people who get good marks in all the houses. It's really just the founders' system—in the past, they handpicked the students, but today they need to be sorted with magic. We can't really know if this is how they'd really have divided up the students."
"What about Slytherin?" Neville asked. "I've... heard things about Slytherin."
"They do tend to be an unpleasant lot," Percy admitted. "Lots of the old pure-blooded families are in Slytherin—the ones who value blood purity. That's not to say it dictates who goes into Slytherin, but that's the common perception. They keep to themselves a lot. There's supposed to be a sort of rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin; that causes tension sometimes."
Jane considered all this. Most of the houses didn't sound so bad, but she didn't think she'd like to be in Slytherin. At least, if she was in Gryffindor, she'd be with the Weasleys. Besides Neville and Hermione, they were the only students she knew.
"What do you mean by blood purity?" she asked.
Percy thought for a moment. "Some wizards believe that Muggle-borns should be kept out of the wizarding world. They talk about the witch-burning times and such, which is actually a valid point, but it doesn't matter much today. I can sort of understand where they're coming from, but in modern times, it really just amounts to prejudice. Five hundred years ago, when wizards were really at danger from Muggles, it made sense—not letting Muggle-borns come to Hogwarts protected its location from Muggles who demanded magical solutions to their problems. Today, though, the blood purists like to argue that wizards from Muggle families are inferior, that they simply aren't as good at magic as a pure-blood."
Hermione paled. "I'm Muggle-born."
"And you've got every chance at being a brilliant witch as anyone else," Percy said proudly. "My family has always believed blood doesn't matter. My father's absolutely fascinated by Muggles, so I've got some experience with their technology. They really are brilliant, coming up with ways to get along without magic."
"I'm from a Muggle family, too," Jane said.
"But you're half-blood," Neville said. "Your parents were both magical. You're half-blood if you've got a wizard parent and a Muggle parent, or if your parents were Muggle-born."
"That sounds awfully complicated."
Neville shrugged. "Lots of people care about these things, though. You know, family. They say my family's one of the last... I don't know, twenty remaining completely pure families in Britain. Doesn't matter, though—I mean, look at me. Can't even find my toad."
"We will find him," Hermione said firmly. She sounded like she had something to prove. "Come on."
They searched the entire length of the train, but found nothing. Neville was looking increasingly distraught as they went back to their compartment.
"Maybe we should go through again when everyone's off," Jane said, taking Crookshanks onto her lap and curling up by the window. "He may be scared of all the people."
"Maybe." Neville sat down glumly. "I thought it was so bloody brilliant when I got my letter... now look."
"Now, don't sulk," Hermione said forcefully. "He can't have got off the train. Now, where did you leave your things? You'd better change into your robes."
Neville left and Jane stood on the seat to get her robes. She put them on quickly, glad to be out of the scratchy, unfashionable dress Aunt Petunia made her wear.
Despite Neville's problem, Jane's excitement wasn't reduced by much. She was going to Hogwarts! She was going to learn Potions, and Charms, and Transfiguration, and especially Care of Magical Creatures! She watched the forests outside the windows turn to mountains as they sped north. It was starting to get very dark now—they must have been getting close.
As if she had known, the train began to slow and a voice said, "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train; it will be taken to the school separately."
"That was the conductor," Hermione explained, putting her book in her trunk.
Jane hadn't known there was a conductor. She hadn't seen any adults at all on the train.
"Come on," Hermione said, as the train stopped. "Let's not get separated." She sounded a bit too eager, as though she didn't want to leave Jane behind.
It was cold outside, much colder than it had been in London. Jane pulled her cloak more tightly around her.
"Firs' years!" called a big booming voice. "Firs' years, this way!" Jane looked up to see the most unusual man she'd ever seen. He looked positively gigantic and most of his face was covered by an enormous black beard. She could just barely see his eyes in the dim light of the lamp he carried, but she thought he looked friendly, not threatening. Jane took a step forward.
"Well, I'll be a dragon's uncle," the man murmured softly. "Jane Potter?"
Jane smiled. "Yes, sir."
"Yer the very image of yer mother," he said, bending down to get a better look. He didn't get nearly halfway to her face. "And a lovely lady she was, too. Rubeus Hagrid's the name. Call me Hagrid." He reached out his enormous hand and shook Jane's whole arm.
"Righ' then. Any more firs' years? Follow me!"
Jane and Hermione followed closely. Beside her, Hermione was positively bouncing. Neville sidled up to them and Jane spotted the youngest Weasley brother.
"Hi," she said. "Ron, right? You must be excited to go to school with your brothers."
Ron shrugged. "I guess."
Jane was about to ask more when Hermione stopped dead and she nearly ran into her.
"Look," said Hermione breathlessly, her finger extended. Jane looked.
It was Hogwarts. The castle sat on the other side of large lake, which looked deep and black in the half moonlight. Its many windows were full of light and Jane felt her heart swell. Ten years she'd been at the Dursleys', but this was a place she could definitely see herself calling home. It was the most beautiful sight she'd ever seen.
Hagrid led them down to the shore. "Watch your step there, girls. Four to a boat. Hurry up there, you—Weasley, is it?"
Ron grimaced and stepped somewhat reluctantly into a boat with Jane, Hermione, and Neville.
"Everyone all righ'?" Hagrid asked. When there were no objections, he announced, "FORWARD!"
Without even a jerk, the boats moved forward, sliding across the lake as if on ice. Jane's heart pounded as the castle loomed larger. She didn't think Hermione was breathing. Jane kept her eyes on Hogwarts until it went out of view as their boats glided through some hanging ivy, into a tunnel, which opened into a cavern which must have been deep under the school.
As they stepped gingerly from the boats, Neville stopped. "Look!" he exclaimed, bending down quickly enough that Ron almost fell over him. "Trevor!"
"I told you you'd find him," Hermione said, sounding satisfied.
The four of them hurried to catch the rest of the first years, following Hagrid up the path out onto the grass and around to the entrance.
The door opened when Hagrid knocked, revealing a stern-looking witch with black hair pulled back into a tight bun. She looked down at the first years, as if judging them, and Jane noticed her gaze quickly find her.
"Here they are, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid announced.
"Thank you, Hagrid," she said coolly. "I will take it from here."
The children followed Professor McGonagall into the enormous entrance hall and into a chamber off of it. It seemed that the older students were not far away; Jane could hear voices coming from the other side of a set of double doors.
Professor McGonagall waited for the first years to settle themselves down before she spoke. Jane listened carefully to her description of the house system. She'd already heard it from Hermione and she turned to smile at her new friend. Hermione looked surprised, but smiled back.
When McGonagall left them, the talking started up again. "Percy said we'd be sorted by magic," Jane said to Hermione. "Do you know what kind of spell?"
Hermione looked uncertain. "I don't know. There was nothing about it in Hogwarts: a History. It just said 'The Hogwarts Sorting is a great and ancient tradition shrouded in mystery, and it is not for us to reveal in these pages, so that each generation of witches and wizards may experience it firsthand.'" Hermione looked very unsettled, as if she did not at all enjoy revealing she didn't know something.
"My brother Fred said we'd have to wrestle a troll," Ron spoke up, looking worried.
"Oh, that's silly," Hermione said dismissively. "It can't be that. You can't make eleven-year-olds fight trolls."
Ron looked annoyed.
Suddenly, someone screamed. They all turned to look behind them, at the silvery masses passing into the chamber right through the wall opposite.
"What's that?" Jane cried.
"Oh, those are just ghosts!" Ron declared, looking pleased to know something. "They're harmless. Mostly."
The ghosts did seem friendly, especially the one who appeared to be a monk.
Jane was so distracted by the ghosts she almost didn't see Professor McGonagall when she came back in. When the ghosts had cleared away, she formed the first years into a line and led them into the Great Hall. Jane didn't know what sort of class McGonagall taught, but she knew she wouldn't be putting so much as a toe out of line in front of her.
The Great Hall was magnificent. Hermione had been right—the ceiling did look like the night sky and the floating candles even gave the impression that the stars were hanging low into the room. The line stopped abruptly while Jane was looking at the ceiling and she trod on Ron's robe. They had stopped in front of four tables of students—Jane could see the Weasleys and their friends at one of them. They smiled at her, but she noticed they were looking at the center of the room, where an old, dirty-looking hat was sitting on a stool. Jane looked at it, too, and jumped when it began to sing.
She listened, enraptured, to the song, describing the Hogwarts founders and the houses. She needed to see if Hermione would let her borrow Hogwarts: a History.
That is, if they were in the same house.
Suddenly, Jane was gripped by a cold fear that she might be with strangers. She'd never had friends before today and she'd met so many people already. She had to be with someone she knew and not with Pansy and the girls who reminded her of Dudley.
Professor McGonagall was already calling the first student forward, a blonde girl named Hannah Abbott. She put the hat on and Jane watched intently to see what she had to do.
Hannah didn't do anything. She only sat there for a moment and the Sorting Hat cried out, "HUFFLEPUFF!"
Hannah took off the hat and hurried over to join the Hufflepuffs. Being sorted didn't look so bad.
Jane watched, heart pounding, as the number of students waiting to be sorted dwindled.
"Granger, Hermione!"
Hermione darted out from next to Jane and put the hat on. It took a bit of time and Jane wondered what the hat was doing.
"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted. Jane relaxed a bit as Hermione went over to join the table where the Weasleys and their friends were sitting. That was it. She wanted Gryffindor.
Her feeling was even further confirmed when Neville went there, as well, and Pansy went to Slytherin.
"Potter, Jane!"
Jane walked forward woodenly, heart pounding. Every single eye was on her and she could hear people whispering. Why? Why did they care?
She sat on the stool and put on the hat, letting it block her vision of the hall.
"Very interesting," said a small voice. Jane jumped. What was that? Was that the hat? "I see you already have a preference."
Jane was afraid to speak. All she could think about was Neville and Hermione at the Gryffindor table, the helpful brothers and the friendly older girls.
"You know," the hat said, "you would do well in Slytherin. I can feel it. Great things, you're capable of great things."
With a sickening thought, Jane remembered Ollivander's words about Lord Voldemort. Great things.
"Very well. If you insist… GRYFFINDOR!"
When Jane pulled the hat off, the Gryffindor table was erupting with cheers. The twins' friend Angelina moved over to make room for her and Fred leaned over to ruffle her hair.
"What'd I say?" he said, grinning. "I was right, wasn't I?"
All Jane could do was nod and smile at Hermione. She had friends! Maybe it was her imagination, but she thought perhaps Hermione was having the same thought.
Gradually, the number of students dwindled until only Ron and a few more were left to be sorted. She hadn't spoken much to him, but Jane found herself hoping Ron would be in Gryffindor, too, with his family.
And—after a brief pause under the hat—he was.
He looked very relieved as he came to sit down on Fred's other side. "Troll," he spat at his brother, but Fred just laughed.
Now the sorting was finished and the Headmaster rose. He was a very old man with a long white beard and Jane thought he looked exactly how she would have expected a wizard to look.
"Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts. Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"
He sat down. Jane looked around at the other students. No one seemed to bat an eye at this. Perhaps they were used to it.
The plates on the table were suddenly covered with food and Jane found herself forgetting about this mad old man. Everything looked so delicious she didn't know where to start.
And, she realized for the first time, she could eat however much she liked, without Aunt Petunia snapping at her and piling more food on Dudley's plate.
Everything was just as good as it looked, too. Jane loaded a little bit of everything onto her plate and listened to the conversations around her. People were talking about their families, about something called Quidditch and the House Cup.
Hermione was telling Angelina all about dentists when Jane looked up, right into the eyes of a teacher at the staff table, a man with a hook nose and greasy black hair. He stared at her, eyes wide, and Jane felt a sudden shooting pain in her scar. She clapped a hand to it and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, the teacher had looked away.
"Who's that man?" she asked Fred.
"Who, Snape? He's the Potions master. You'd better watch out around him. He doesn't like anyone much, but he especially loathes Gryffindors. He's Head of Slytherin, and he's always taking points from us to make them look good. It's ruddy unfair. He's the reason we've lost the House Cup for the past six years and the Quidditch Cup, too."
Only half-listening, Jane let Fred tell her about Quidditch. She didn't much like Muggle sport, but anything magical sounded interesting. She wanted to see a flying broomstick.
All the while Fred was talking, Jane watched the staff table. She spotted Kettleburn and he gave her a bit of a salute and Hagrid gave her a wave so wide he almost knocked a very small professor right off his chair. However, for the rest of the feast, Snape didn't look up from his meal, even after he'd emptied his plate.
After the feast, Jane and the other first-year Gryffindors followed Percy and his female counterpart, Samantha Fowler, out of the Great Hall and up a marble staircase. It seemed that they were climbing forever, and Percy announced they were on the seventh floor, at the base of Gryffindor Tower.
They came to a stop in front of a portrait of a fat lady in a pink dress.
"Hello, dears," she said. "Welcome back. Password?"
"Caput draconis," Percy said, and the fat lady's portrait swung open to reveal the common room beyond. Jane and the others climbed through the hole and assembled in the center of the perfectly round room. It looked very inviting, with lots of comfy-looking chairs and red hangings. There was a fire roaring merrily in the grate and Jane suddenly felt very sleepy.
"Now," Percy began, "it's very important that you all remember the password. It changes frequently, but you won't be able to get into the common room without it."
"Caput draconis," Jane whispered to herself. It sounded like a magic spell.
"Now, off to bed with you. Boys, follow me; girls, go with Samantha."
At the back of the common room, there were two spiral staircases across from each other. Jane, Hermione and two other girls followed Samantha up the one on the left; Ron, Neville, and the two other boys followed Percy up with one on the right. They climbed all the way to the top of the tower until Samantha pushed open a door marked First Years.
The room was round like the common room, with four four-poster beds with red hangings. Hermione and Jane found their trunks at the foot of their beds, right next to each other. Someone had let Crookshanks out of his carrier and he was curled up on Jane's bed, sleeping.
"I expect you've all had a long day," Samantha said. "Why don't you go right to bed?"
That sounded like a good idea to Jane. When they changed into their pajamas, Jane was somewhat self-conscious about hers—an old T-shirt of Dudley's.
She noticed the other two girls staring at her. She recognized one of them as the twin who had been nice to Neville on the train. She assumed they were staring at her scar.
"Are you really Jane Potter?" asked the blonde girl in a small voice.
"Yeah." Jane pushed her hair back so they could see more clearly.
"Wow," they both said.
"Do you remember anything?" the twin asked.
Jane shook her head. "I didn't even know about magic. I live with my relatives. They're Muggles."
"I can't imagine not knowing. I'm Parvati, by the way."
"I'm Lavender," the blonde said, still looking at Jane somewhat cautiously.
"And I'm Hermione," said Hermione.
Lavender clapped her hands together. "Oh, I can't believe I'm going to be roommates with Jane Potter!"
"Yeah." Jane twisted her hair around her finger. "I can't believe I am Jane Potter."
"It must be strange," Parvati observed, getting into bed. "To not know you're famous."
"You don't know the half of it."
They said good night to each other and got into bed. Jane hoped she would get used to being famous soon.
"Good night, Hermione," she whispered to her new friend. That was the best part, no matter being famous or being a witch. She had a friend now.
"Good night, Jane." Crookshanks meowed and she added, "Good night, Crookshanks."
Jane waited for her roommates to drop off, one by one. She was almost too excited to sleep. She'd never slept anywhere but her cupboard. It was almost overwhelming—new friends, new classes.
When Jane finally slipped into sleep, she didn't remember her dream.