"Well, what's the password?" the Fat Lady drawled. Her dress was tattered, her wine glass was chipped, her hair was an unruly knot, and her face was distorted by a scowl.
"Fidelius," I muttered. The Fat Lady grumbled and the door swung open. I stepped into the dim common room. There were only a few students about, concentrating on their homework. There was the scratching of pens, but otherwise, the room was silent.
"First years," one of the prefects said glumly, "Follow me."
There were eight first years total, five boys and three girls. The boys, as I later learned, were named Dennis, Perry, Slider, and Charles. The girls were Constance, Sam, and myself.
"Boys, up to that dormitory. All the way to the top. Get a bed and settle in. Curfew is at eight. Girls. Follow me." The prefect led the three of up a spiral staircase, into a tower.
"Here's your room," the prefect said, "Get comfy."
She opened the door and let us in. Immediately, Sam sat down on the closest bed and buried her head in the pillow. The sound of muffled sobs were the only sounds in the room as Constance and I chose beds and unpacked out suitcases.
A bell rung, signaling curfew.
I pulled the covers up close to my face. The blanket was itchy and thin. It was stitched with a faded Gryffindor crest. I did not feel proud to be in Hogwarts. I did not feel proud to be in Gryffindor. I wanted out.
–––––––––––
"Everyone, find a cauldron," Professor Maulk said. He was the potions teacher. "I have written the instructions on the board. Please do your best to create a sleeping draught."
I gathered ingredients from a cabinet in the back of the room. I broke two vials, and my potion came out as a bubbling mixture as thick as clay. It was dark red, and bubbles rose to the surface. They popped like animals gasping for air.
After potions, I had Charms, which was just as bad as potions. I couldn't make a feather fly. All I could do was wave my wand and stupidly say "wingardium leviosa".
In Transfiguration, I managed to do something at least. Instead of turning my stick into a pencil, at least it lit on fire. I pointed out to Professor Lexan that I had transfigured the stick into ashes.
I earned one detention. My first day, and I had to spend one hour cleaning the trophies in the cases. It was all because I took off my stupid mask. It was getting hard to breath, and I only took it off for a moment. But, no! They have to be on all day, 24/7.
That night in the common room, Constance sought me out. I was in the middle of doing homework, but I didn't mind.
"I hate this place," she confided in me.
"It's all wrong!" I said, feeling her pain.
"We deserve better."
I nodded my head. "You're Constance, right?" I asked.
"Yeah. Constance Weasley."
"Like… Ron Weasley? Is he your grandpa or something?" I asked.
"Great Grandpa. No wonder I got put in this house. I hate him," Constance said distastefully. "Although my mom says he was a great hero. All the Weasleys are nut jobs."