Chapter Three

Just One of the Girls

Jane's first few days at Hogwarts passed in a rush of new people, places and things to keep track of. She felt lucky to have Hermione as a friend. The other girl had a phenomenal memory and was the only thing keeping Jane from getting lost on the way to her classes.

The biggest disappointment when Jane received her schedule from Professor McGonagall was that she didn't have Care of Magical Creatures. Fred told her this was a third-year class; he, George, and Lee had just started it, and they thought it and Kettleburn were brilliant, so Jane told the story of her rescue from the Dursleys' to a rapt audience of Gryffindors.

There were other disappointments, too. As much as she tried to reach out to Ron Weasley, he didn't seem to want to be friends with her.

"Don't worry about it," George told her Friday morning at breakfast. "Ron can be slow to warm up sometimes, but he'll come around." He craned his neck to see her timetable. "You've got Potions this morning?"

Jane nodded.

George made a face. "Good luck. Listen, Snape likes to spring a sort of pop quiz on the first years. Likes to see if they've been reading." Hermione's ears perked up.

"I looked at my books," Jane said.

"Then you should be fine. He just hates people who don't read."

Jane knew Hermione would be fine, but she wasn't so sure about herself, as she trooped down to the dungeons with Hermione and Neville. She remembered how Snape had looked at her at the start of term feast.

The Gryffindors had Potions with the Slytherins, which mean Pansy Parkinson and her friends.

"It's a pity you're in Gryffindor, Parvati," Pansy said, as they all sat in the classroom, "hanging about with this lot."

"I like being in Gryffindor," Parvati fired back. "Everyone in here's nice."

At that moment, the door to the Potions classroom flew open and Snape stormed in. He cast a glance at Jane as he passed her desk, but looked away quickly. "Silence as I take the roll."

Jane waited with bated breath as he reached her name. "Jane Potter." He looked up at her, but didn't meet her eyes. Instead, his gaze seemed directed to her forehead, like he was looking at her scar.

Then, he went back to the roll, as if nothing had even happened. Jane was bracing herself for the quiz.

When he'd finished the roll, Snape paused.

"Miss Potter," he said, in a silky voice, "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Jane licked her lips, trying to remember what she'd read. "The—The Draught of Living Death?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Correct." He paused for a moment and then asked, "What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Jane's stomach seized. "Aren't they the same?"

He stared at her for a long time. "Yes," he said softly. "They are. Weasley! Can you tell me where I might find a bezoar?"

Ron stared, open-mouthed. Beside Jane, Hermione's hand shot into the air. Snape ignored her.

"Well, Weasley? Do you mean to tell me you haven't read your textbook?"

Hermione almost knocked Jane over as she stretched her hand higher. Ron glowered at Snape.

"I don't know," he said. "This is the first class."

Snape scowled. "Five points from Gryffindor for not being prepared for class."

Ron said nothing, but he gripped his quill very hard.

Then, Snape spun on Hermione. "Miss… Granger," he said, consulting the roll. "Can you tell me why we must keep Ashwinder eggs frozen in the lab?"

Jane knew the answer, so Hermione definitely did. "They're flammable, sir," she said proudly. "They're some of the most volatile potions ingredients presently in use."

Snape inclined his head. "Very good."

Snape asked different students different questions, but he never asked anyone else two questions. Then, once he'd set them to making the boil-curing potion, he criticized all the other Gryffindors' work, but seemed to glide right past Jane without comment.

When class let out, Jane was glad for the afternoon off. Hermione wanted to check out the library, but Jane urged her to go out and explore the Hogwarts grounds.

"It's so nice out," she said. "We should go outside before it gets cold."

Hermione frowned, but she did follow Jane.

"Well, hello there, girl!" It was Professor Kettleburn, preparing for his afternoon lesson. "Not much time to talk, but I see you're in Gryffindor. Just like your parents; I shouldn't be surprised."

Jane introduced Hermione and Kettleburn and he showed them the bowtruckles he was going to be using with his fifth years.

As they walked back up to the school, Jane saw the gamekeeper's hut and Hagrid sitting in front of it. He waved at her and she waved back.

At least most people at Hogwarts were nice.

That night as they were getting ready for bed, Jane glanced over at Hermione. She supposed now would be a good time as any to tell her. Lavender and Parvati hadn't come up yet and this was something Jane wanted to tell Hermione alone, considering she wasn't positive how she'd take it.

She paused in brushing her hair. "Hermione? Can I tell you something?"

"Yes?" Hermione put her bookmark in her book and set it aside.

Jane scooped Crookshanks into her lap. "I'm really glad I met you. I'm really glad we're friends."

Hermione smiled. "I'm glad we're friends, too."

"Because…" Jane looked down at Crookshanks. He gave her what she decided to take as an encouraging look. "You're my first friend."

She didn't look up, so she was surprised when Hermione sat down next to her on her bed. "Really, Jane? I'm your first friend."

Jane tore her eyes away from Crookshanks and looked up at Hermione. She swallowed hard. "Yeah. You are."

A small smile spread across Hermione's face. "Well." She swiped at her eye. "You're my first friend, too."

Jane didn't know what to say. For all she knew, Hermione came from the kind of family Jane had always wanted. She'd never thought about it, but in the back of her mind, Jane had always assumed that she had had friends before. After all, Jane was supposed to be the weird one.

"I think," Hermione went on, "the other children thought I was a bit strange. It started early in primary school and then I just sort of never had any friends, and then I never made any friends. It was probably because I was a witch—that's why they thought I was strange. Probably you, too, right?"

Jane nodded. "Yeah. They thought I was weird, too."

Hermione got into her own bed. "How did you know you were a witch? I mean, I know you said Professor Kettleburn came to your house—Professor Sinistra came to mine—but did anything ever happen to you when you were young?"

"Oh, yeah, loads. I reckon that's why the Dursleys hated me." Hermione frowned at this, but Jane had been used to it. She told Hermione about the incident with the needle.

"That's interesting," Hermione said. "I used to make things explode."

"Are you talking about first signs of magic?" Lavender and Parvati had just come in.

"Yes," Hermione said. "You see, I was always interested in books. Ever since I first learned to read, I read anything I could get my hands on. From the time I was about five or so, my parents used to lock up anything that they thought was, well—" Hermione twisted some hair around her finger, looking slightly embarrassed "—too mature for me. There was this cabinet in the library with big glass doors and I could see what was in there, but I couldn't get to it. I'd read everything else in the house at least twice, and I'd stopped being interested in the picture books my mother got for me ages ago. And then, one day, while my mother was in the kitchen, I just unlocked the door and grabbed the first book I saw. Mum thought Dad must've left it unlocked, but I just kept doing it again and again. She was so upset with him. Until one day, she locked it up herself and was almost out of the room when she saw me walk right up to the cabinet and unlock the door."

Hermione looked pleased with herself, but Lavender and Parvati didn't seem to think this was terribly interesting.

"When I was a baby, I used to Summon things into my cot," Lavender said. "But my parents are wizards. There was magic going on in the house and I knew I could do it. That's supposed to help." She smiled. "And it's supposed to be good luck to have first signs before two."

"I have no idea," Hermione said. "My parents wouldn't have known what it was. We only know looking back."

"And I wouldn't know," Jane said. "There's no one to tell me what I did when I was a baby."

The other girls were silent after this.

"I had my first signs at my grandmother's," Parvati finally said. "In India. She thought that was good luck. It's really good luck while you're traveling."

Jane thought for a moment. "What about at the zoo? Does that count as traveling?"

"The zoo?"

"Yeah." Jane sat up. "I went to the zoo last summer. There was a snake there and it said it had never seen Brazil. Then the glass was gone. I must've done that. I hope he's got to Brazil by now. He seemed nice."

"It… what?" Lavender asked. She had drawn her knees up to her chest and was very pale. "It told you? How?"

Jane shrugged. "It talked. Like normal. Like we are. I figured that was magic."

Lavender shook her head vigorously. "Jane, that's not normal. It's… it's Parseltongue. It's a Dark ability."

Jane felt her stomach drop, but Parvati snapped, "No, it's not. Honestly! It's perfectly normal in India. Well," she added sheepishly, "not perfectly normal exactly, but it's not Dark, either. After all, it's just a snake. The animal itself isn't Dark. Not like it's a Basilisk or something."

Lavender shuddered. "They just give me the creeps."

"So because they give you the creeps, it must be Dark?" Parvati looked back at Jane. "Don't worry about it, Jane. You're all right."

Jane was worried now, though. "Don't tell anybody, all right? If it's weird… I mean… I didn't know there was anything special about it and I swear I'm not Dark. It was an accident."

"We won't tell anyone," Lavender said quickly. "Don't worry, Jane."

Hermione and Parvati nodded.

"Thanks." Jane turned out her bedside light. As she lay awake in the dark, all she could remember now was that the Sorting Hat had wanted to put her in Slytherin and that Slytherin House's symbol was the snake.

The highlight of their second week of classes was the announcement of flying lessons. Jane remembered Fred talking about flying broomsticks, so she knew that was something wizards did for sport. Maybe this would be like PE.

"Is flying difficult?" she asked Percy, when he'd come by the table she and Hermione shared in the common room one evening. He liked to do that, check in on the first years, and Jane appreciated it.

"I don't think so," Percy said, nudging his glasses up on his nose. "It's not for everyone, but I think it's essential these days. Why, what with magic carpets being illegal and all. Flying is what you do if you can't Apparate, or aren't near a fire for Flooing, or haven't got a Portkey."

Jane nodded, though she didn't know what all of those were.

"Is it…" Hermione paused. "Do you have to go very high?"

"They start you out low," Percy assured her. "We don't all have to go out for Quidditch. But we do all have to learn to fly. But don't worry! The broomstick will respond to anyone with magic, as long as they're not scared. There's not really much skill to it unless you're doing trick flying, or racing, or some such."

Hermione looked relieved. "I don't really like… being high up," she confessed.

"That's perfectly all right," Percy said. "You'll be a splendid flyer."

Hermione nodded, but she didn't look certain.

On Thursday, the first-year Gryffindors assembled on the lawn where flying lessons would be held to discover with dismay that the class would be shared with the Slytherins.

"First Potions and now this," Jane heard Ron say to Seamus in dismay.

"What, Weasley?" drawled a blond boy with a pale, pointed face. "Don't you want to see how proper flying's done?"

Ron snorted. "I'd like to see you try, Malfoy, on these old things."

"'These old things'? I would think the school brooms would be like a Nimbus Two Thousand compared to what you must have at home."

"Quiet down!" said a voice, before Ron had a chance to retort. Madam Hooch, the flying teacher, was crossing the lawn. "Everyone choose a broom."

Jane stood next to Hermione, who still looked nervous.

"Now," Madam Hooch said. "Hold your hand out over your broom and say, 'UP!'"

"UP!" they all shouted.

Jane's broom floated into her hand as if it were sinking up. Hermione's simply rolled over. Ron's and Malfoy's had sprung into their hands. Neville's hadn't moved.

Madam Hooch sighed. "You may have to simply pick the broom up until you get the hang of it."

The rest of them did.

Then, they set to mounting the brooms. Jane adjusted her grip per Madam Hooch's instructions and she could tell Hermione was flustered to have gotten it wrong, despite having talked to Percy and read two library books.

Neville, though, was even more nervous. He was so jumpy that he shot into the air before they were all ready and promptly fell off his broom. Jane clapped her hand to her mouth, watching in terror as he hit the ground with a sickening thump. Jane was terrified of the worst, but Madam Hooch approached as though he'd only tripped.

"Oh dear," she said, "broken wrist. We'd best get you to the hospital wing." She looked at the rest of them. "Now, none of you move an inch until I've come back."

She hurried off and, predictably, everyone moved.

"Well, look here." Malfoy reached for something in the grass. It was a round glass ball. "Look what he's forgotten."

"That's Neville's Remembrall!" Ron shouted. "Give it back!"

"Why don't you come and get it, Weasley?" Malfoy swung a leg over his broom and pushed off into the air. He made it look easy. "Let's see how your Comet One-Forty's prepared you."

"I haven't got a Comet One-Forty," Ron spat as he, too, mounted his broom. "It's a Shooting Star," he muttered.

"Get him, mate!" Seamus exclaimed.

"Ron, stop!" Jane said, reaching for the end of Ron's robe. "You'll fall."

"Worried about your boyfriend, Potter?" Pansy Parkinson asked.

"He's not my boyfriend," Jane said.

"I won't fall," Ron snapped. "Let go. I've certainly been flying more than you." He jerked his broom so he was out of Jane's grasp and floated higher. Her heart stopped pounding somewhat—he really did know how to fly.

Then, once his broom was level, he shot after Malfoy. Jane and some of the others ran after them, following their progress. Then Malfoy drew his hand back. He was going to drop the Remembrall… no, he was going to throw it.

Ron seemed to notice at the same time Jane did. He pointed his broom to where the Remembrall was going to be and shot forward. The ball arced through the sky toward Ron and slipped right through his fingers.

"JANE!" he yelled.

Jane looked up. The Remembrall was dropping right toward her.

She shrieked and covered her head. The Remembrall landed a few inches away, bouncing harmlessly on the grass. Jane picked it up.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

Professor McGonagall was marching toward her across the lawn. Jane felt her stomach drop.

"Professor, I didn't—"

But McGonagall didn't seem to notice her. "Weasley! Malfoy! Come down from there at once."

Both of them descended slowly, looking angry.

"Fifteen points from each of your houses," McGonagall said sternly.

Ron scowled at Jane. "Thanks," he muttered.

"I don't understand him!" Jane exclaimed as threw her bag down on her bed. "I didn't do anything!"

"Boys are stupid," Parvati said. "It's an immutable law of the universe."

"Oh, I don't know," Lavender said with a giggle. "They're not all stupid. Seamus Finnegan is kind of cute."

"Cute doesn't mean not stupid," Parvati said. "Seamus set fire to his match instead of turning it into a needle."

"Well," Lavender said. "That's what matches are for. How often in daily life will you change a match into a needle?" She flopped down on her bed. "I just think he's cute! Those blue eyes! Who do you think is the cutest boy in our year?"

Jane blinked. She realized Lavender was asking her. "Um," she said. "I guess Seamus is cute."

"I like Draco Malfoy," Parvati said. "As long as he doesn't open his mouth."

"He looks like a ferret," Lavender said.

Jane had never really thought about boys before. She was just used to Dudley's gang and the other boys teasing her. Now, she ran through all the boys she knew of at Hogwarts, trying to decide if any of them were cute.

"What about Neville?" she hazarded.

Lavender made a face. "Cute but chubby. He seems a little young."

"What about Oliver Wood?" Parvati sighed. "He's dreamy."

"Oh, I like him!" Jane said. "He's nice."

"Jane likes Quidditch boys!" Lavender squealed. "What's your favorite position?"

Jane stared. "My what?"

"Quidditch position! I guess you like Keepers, if you like Oliver."

"Keepers are nice," Parvati allowed. "I like Seekers, though."

Jane had no idea why the position the boy played even mattered.

"Listen." Lavender lowered her voices and glanced around the room conspiratorially. "Have any of you ever kissed a boy?"

"No," Parvati said.

"No," Jane said.

"Hermione?"

"Oh." Hermione looked up from her book. "No, I haven't."

"Really?" Lavender eyed Hermione's chest, which Jane now realized was the largest of the four girls'. "You're the oldest in our year, right?"

"I'll be twelve next week."

Lavender sighed. "I can't wait until I need a real bra."

Jane could see Hermione turning red. "It's not that special. When you're the first, you get made fun of."

"True." Lavender studied Parvati and Jane. "You don't wear a bra, do you, Jane?"

"No," Jane said faintly. Aunt Petunia had told her never to talk about things like this.

"And you're younger than me, Parvati. It isn't fair."

"By two weeks. That doesn't have anything to do with it."

"What day's your birthday, Hermione?" Jane asked, desperately trying to change the subject.

"It's Thursday." Hermione looked relieved. "The nineteenth."

Lavender sighed again. "And I have to wait all the way until June to be twelve. I'm sure Hermione will be miles ahead of me by then."

Hermione had gone back to her book, but from her angle, Jane could see her friend had an amused smile on her face.

Jane had never attended any birthday party besides Dudley's, much less thrown one, but now that she knew Hermione's birthday was next week, she couldn't not do something for her first ever friend.

"I need your help," she said to Fred and George, cornering them in the common room before Hermione had come down for dinner.

"We aim to serve," Fred said. "What can we do for you, Janie?"

"Well, it's Hermione's birthday on Thursday, and I've only just found out and—"

"Ah, say no more, say no more." George patted her shoulder. "Last-minute surprise parties are our specialty. Leave it to us."

Jane had a very funny feeling when he said that that maybe this was not the best idea.

On Thursday, after classes, Jane steered Hermione back to the common room as instructed.

"But what about dinner?"

"Sorry, Hermione, I've forgotten something. Caput draconis." The Fat Lady's portrait swung open and the girls climbed through.

"Surprise!" cried a cluster of Gryffindors. Jane could see everyone in their year, plus assorted older students, including the twins' friends, Percy, and Samantha.

Hermione's hand flew to her mouth. Then, she looked behind her, as though the person they were actually throwing the party for was behind her.

"Happy birthday, Hermione," said Fred and George.

"You did this?" Hermione stared at the twins in shock. "But how?"

They seized Jane's shoulders and nudged her forward. "This is the one you want," said George. "It was her idea. We just helped."

"Happy birthday, Hermione," Jane said, with a smile.

The twins had gotten loads of food from who knew where (when Percy tried to ask them, Fred shoved a piece of cake in his mouth) and the common room was soon full of happy chatter.

"This is wonderful," Hermione told Jane, taking a sip of pumpkin juice. "I know you only found out a week ago. Thanks."

Jane grinned. "What are friends for?"

Suddenly, there was a commotion across the room. Crookshanks, who must have snuck down from the girls' dormitory, was sitting on Ron Weasley's shoulder, pawing at his robes. "Augh, Jane!" he cried. "Do something about this animal!"

Jane put her plate down. "No, Crookshanks! Come here."

Crookshanks obediently jumped down from Ron and trotted over to Jane and Hermione. Hermione scooped him up. "Did he scare you, Crooks?" she cooed.

Ron scowled. "It's not him you should be worried about; it's Scabbers!" He plucked his rat from the table where he'd been munching Ron's treacle tart. "He can't do with too many more shocks at his age."

"Then keep him in your dormitory where he's safe," Jane said.

"Why don't you keep that thing in your dormitory?"

Jane crossed her arms over her chest. "Crookshanks likes to stretch his legs!"

"Why can't Scabbers, then?"

"He's a rat. He doesn't get exercise; he's always in your pocket."

Ron scowled.

Jane turned back to Hermione and her plate of cake. Boys really were stupid.

There was plenty to distract her at Hogwarts other than worrying about Ron. Before she knew it, it was Halloween. The twins had told her there would be a spectacular feast and Jane's mouth was watering just thinking about it.

"The decorations are really amazing," Angelina was telling her, as they sat in the common room. "Flitwick does them, usually, and he goes all out."

Jane was so excited she could barely concentrate on her Charms homework, even though they'd learned levitation. Hermione, who was watching from a chair nearby, said suddenly, "What's that you're working on?"

"This?" Angelina handed Hermione her parchment. It was covered in writing Jane couldn't identify. "Ancient Runes. You can start that third year. Sometimes I think I should've done what Fred and George did and taken Divination."

"It's easy because they make it up," Alicia said. "Trelawney doesn't notice."

"At least we're creative," George said. "Now, what body part should I lose to a rampaging Hebridean Black?"

"Your head," Fred said. "She'll love that."

George snickered and scribbled that on his parchment. Jane thought Divination didn't sound like a very pleasant subject.

"Well, that's good enough, I'd say." George slammed Unfogging the Future shut. "Let's head down."

Jane and Hermione followed the third years down to the Great Hall, Hermione still talking eagerly with Angelina about Ancient Runes.

The Halloween feast was just as good as Jane had imagined, though she didn't have a chance to take more than a bite before Professor Quirrell came running into the Great Hall.

"Troll!" he cried, falling against the staff table. "In the dungeons. Thought you ought to know."

Jane's first thought was Trolls are real?, but this was obviously a bit slow because Alicia was pulling her to her feet, as Professor Dumbledore ordered the prefects to lead the students back to their dormitories.

"Come on," Alicia said. "Trolls are nothing to play around with. They can be deadly."

Jane fell in line behind Hermione as they headed out of the Great Hall, following Percy to the stairs. As they mounted the steps to the third floor, Jane saw a flash of red out of the corner of her eye.

"Ron—" she started, reaching her hand out, but he was gone, pushing past some Ravenclaws as he rushed down the steps. Oh no. She grabbed the back of Hermione's robes, pulling her aside. Alicia turned, but Oliver pushed between them and she didn't seem to realize Jane and Hermione were gone.

"Ron's gone back down," she hissed in Hermione's ear. "He's gone after the troll, I reckon."

Hermione's eyes went wide. "No. Oh, Jane, he'll get in so much trouble. We'll get in so much trouble. We have to tell Percy."

"Are you kidding?" Jane looked back over her shoulder. The Gryffindors were far above them. They had not been missed. "He could be killed."

Hermione seemed to take a moment to decide what was worse—lost house points or death.

"All right," she said, "but this is the only time I'm ever doing anything like this."

By this time, the corridors were empty and Jane and Hermione hurried down the steps. It was eerily quiet without the students clomping up and down. Jane pulled Hermione into the shadow of a suit of armor, just off the second floor landing, as someone coming up the stairs passed them.

"Was that Ron?"

"No," Hermione whispered. "That was Professor Snape. Why's he going up?"

"I don't know. At least he didn't see us. Let's go." Jane took her wand out of her pocket and pulled Hermione in the opposite direction to where Snape had gone.

They had only taken a few steps before they heard a shout of pain.

"That was Ron!" Hermione took off in the direction it had come from down the second-floor corridor, Jane at her heels.

Ron had apparently followed the troll into a bathroom on the second floor. Jane did wonder how it had gotten up from the dungeons, but that didn't matter now. The troll had Ron cornered against the far wall. It swung its club menacingly, clearing a row of sinks off the wall, spraying Jane and Hermione with water. They hadn't been noticed yet.

Hermione let out a groan of frustration and whipped out her wand. "Rictusempra!"

The spell seemed to do nothing but get the troll's attention to turn to Jane and Hermione. It moved away from him and charged towards them.

"Bugger," Hermione muttered. She and Jane dodged apart, just as the troll's club came slamming into the tile where they'd been standing.

"A Tickling Charm?" Ron snapped. "Really?"

"You try something," Hermione shot back.

Ron raised his wand. "Flipendo!"

The troll staggered, giving Jane and Hermione time to run to Ron. "Maybe together," Hermione said hurriedly.

Ron gave her a funny look, but the troll roared again and he nodded firmly. "Yeah. Count of three. One, two, three."

"FLIPENDO!" the three of them shouted together.

The troll was thrown flat on its back and its head hit the floor hard. It looked dazed—still conscious, but dazed. Jane, Ron, and Hermione bolted for the door.

"What do you three think you're doing?"

Professor McGonagall's voice made Jane's blood run cold. She was standing a few feet away, arms crossed over her chest.

"Professor—" Hermione began.

Jane glanced at Ron, who looked sheepish.

"We thought we could handle it," Hermione said suddenly. Jane and Ron both turned to look at her. "I'd read about trolls, you see, and—" She stopped. McGonagall looked furious.

"We'll sort this out later," she said. "Go to your common room immediately until we can be sure it is safe. Then we can work out the details of your punishment."

"Well," Ron said, as they climbed the stairs back to Gryffindor Tower. "Now we're all in trouble. Are you happy now?"

Jane wasn't sure what to say. When they climbed through the portrait hole, the first thing they saw was Fred and George at the front of the crowd of people eager to hear the story.

"Did you see it?" George asked.

"Did you get it?" That was Fred.

Ron gaped, open-mouthed. "Yeah!" he said, looking pleased with himself. "I knocked it out. I mean, Jane and Hermione helped… we knocked it out."

Percy looked furious. "You could have been killed! You know I'll have to tell Mum. This is the kind of thing I expect from them." He jabbed a finger at the twins and, judging by Ron's smile, Jane supposed this was the wrong thing say.