Author's Note: Hello Everyone! I just wanted to take a moment and thank everyone who has taken the time to read my story, and has followed, favorited, and reviewed it. It means so much to me that you all seem to like what I've written so far, and I only hope you will continue to as I continue on with this story. With that being said, please like and review, but most of all... please enjoy!
Chapter 3. Snape the Snake
Iliana swallowed the lump in her throat, clutching her schoolbooks tighter to her chest as she shifted nervously from one foot to the other. Her green eyes flickered around the noise filled room, darting from nameless face to nameless face in an attempt to find a nice, friendly one in the mass of students enveloping her.
Five minutes.
That was how long she had been standing in the middle of the hall, her feet planted on the spot, searching for a person to approach. She had counted out the seconds in her head, keeping track of the passed time while also trying to buck up the nerve to simply speak to someone. But it wasn't that easy. Whether she turned to her left or her right, the people on either side were rushing off to class or busy chatting as they strolled to the staircases, climbing up them to the castle's upper levels. They paid her absolutely no mind, almost totally unaware of her existence at all. She was only acknowledged if someone bumped into her accidently. They would apologize and run off before she even had the chance to open her mouth and ask them the one question that had plagued her mind all morning.
Where was Transfiguration?
She had tried to find the classroom herself, wandering from hall to hall, up staircases and down staircases. But wherever she went she failed to find the one room she was looking for. The castle was just so massive, and she got confused as to where she was going, or rather where she was supposed to be going. Several of the hallways looked identical to others, and she was veered off the path she wanted to go in more than once when the stairs chose to suddenly move themselves. She felt like she was going around in circles, making absolutely no progress at all. Directionally challenged, she had hoped one of the elder students would be able to at least point her in the right direction. That idea didn't seem to working out, however.
Disappointed she still had no clue where to go, Iliana sighed. She would surely be late for class! If she ever made it there, that is.
Oh, where were Harry and Ron when she needed them? Sure, they probably wouldn't have known where Transfiguration was either, but it would have been a lot more comforting to be lost with those two by her side. It surely would have been a lot less intimidating. She wondered if they had somehow managed to find there way to class, and were waiting for their first lesson to begin, or if they were just as lost as she was in another part of the castle.
Iliana had waited for the two boys downstairs in the common room this morning, sitting in a squishy, red armchair as she anticipated their arrival. She waited and waited for them, watching many Gryffindors come down and head out through the portrait hole to other areas of the school, but neither Ron nor Harry ever made an appearance. Not wanting to miss out on breakfast she had decided to just wait for them in the Great Hall. Unfortunately, they never showed up there either, resulting in Iliana trying to find her way to her very first class at Hogwarts all by herself.
"Pardon me."
Iliana inclined her head, her forehead creasing as her ears caught the sound of a young, feminine voice.
Was someone speaking to her?
She looked around the emptying corridor, determined to identify the person who had spoken, but no one came forward. No one even looked her way.
Iliana frowned, wilting slightly in discouragement.
Was she hearing things now?
"Up here! I'm up here, girl! In the sapele frame!"
Iliana's eyes widened. There it was again, that voice!
Puzzled, she whirled around and looked to the wall covered in encased artwork. She scanned over the various portraits hanging from it, seeking out the distinct wooden border. She needn't of done that though, for nearly all of the canvases were empty, its occupants visiting other paintings in different areas of the castle.
All except one.
Iliana smiled when her sight fixated on a long painting mounted a little farther down the panel. The little girl inside of it was waving the bouquet of roses she held high above her head in order to grab Iliana's attention, her auburn ringlets bouncing wildly with the movement.
"Hello." Iliana greeted, walking to stand closer to the vignette.
"Hello." Replied the girl, sending her a grin. She straightened up, fixing the crown of flowers situated on her head into its proper place before grabbing onto the skirt of her white lace dress and curtsying. "What is your name?"
"Iliana."
"May I ask you a question, Iliana?"
Iliana nodded.
"Are you lost?"
Flushing, Iliana cast a shy glance at the floor. Was it that obvious?
"Yes." She admitted, returning her gaze to the moving portrait. "I am."
"Do not fret, Iliana!" exclaimed the flower girl. "I have been hung on this wall for hundreds of years and have seen many students lost at one time or another. It is nothing to be ashamed of."
"Really?" said Iliana, relieved to not be the first person to lose their way at Hogwarts.
"Oh, yes! It is quite common." Assured the flower girl. "Would you like some help?"
"Please!" begged Iliana, overjoyed to have finally found a helping hand.
"Where would you like to go?" bubbled the girl, skipping from one portrait to another. "I can take you anywhere in the castle!"
Iliana positively beamed. Perhaps she wouldn't be late to class after all!
"Well, I really need to get to -"
"GOT YOUR CONK!"
Iliana screamed, almost jumping out of her skin when she felt a supernatural force squeeze her nose.
"HONK! HONK!"
Iliana's nose was pinched twice more.
"Stop it! Please, stop it!" She squealed, jerking back and swatting at the air. Wanting to protect herself any way she could, she covered her face with her hand, preventing the entity from grabbing hold of her "conk" yet again.
"What? Does the ickle firstie not want to play?"
"No. She doesn't." Iliana uttered, shaking her head and peeking through the cracks of her fingers.
Two orange eyes were staring back at her
"Too bad, so sad!" Teased the voice, cackling maniacally.
Abruptly, the books Iliana held were ripped from her arms and launched across the hall, landing with hard thuds on the tiled floor. Then her schoolbag was stolen away as well, spinning rapidly, upside down, in the air as devious laughter filled the corridor. The creature, unable to go unseen any longer, revealed itself just before letting go of the bag's strap and chortled as it was flung in a random direction, hit the wall, and touched down on the ground, all of its contents rolling out from inside of it.
Iliana bit her lip, hoping none of her school materials had been broken.
"Peeves!" shouted the flower girl, stomping her foot. "Leave her alone!"
The poltergeist, who was in the middle of pulling out the rug from under Iliana's feet, smiled evilly and flew over to the portrait.
"Party pooper! You're no fun!" he stated, sticking out his tongue at the oil painting before whacking it out of place.
The flower girl yelped as her painting swung roughly from side to side, the continuous rocking motion making it very difficult for her to keep her balance.
Peeves laughed at this, doubling over in hysterics when the girl fell over, no longer able to stay on her feet.
Iliana grimaced, wanting to help the flower girl, but also wanting to use the small window of opportunity she had to escape. With Peeves distracted she could gather her things and get far, far away from him. It was easy for her to decide that she would rather be lost anywhere else in the castle than spend another minute here with Peeves the Prankster.
So as quietly as she could, Iliana tiptoed down the hall, picking up her school supplies along the way. She had just finished shoving the last of her things into her book bag; too anxious to get away to bother checking to make sure nothing was damaged, when the end of her French braid was tugged on, yanking her head back.
"Oww!" she cried, whirling around to grab ahold of the part of her plait that wasn't in Peeve's grasp. "Let go of my hair!"
"No, No, No!" sang Peeves, grinning broadly as he pulled on her hair repeatedly.
"Yes, Yes, Yes!" Iliana demanded, steam practically coming out of her ears. She pulled on her hair, Peeves pulled back. She pulled on her hair again, and Peeves pulled back again, starting an intense game of tug of war between the two.
"No!"
"Yes!"
"No!"
"Yes!"
"No!"
"Yes!"
"Oh, Peeves…"
Iliana and Peeves broke eye contact, snapping their heads to the person who had interrupted their battle for dominance over the eleven year old's hair.
Leaning casually against the wall, a smirk on her face as she inspected her nails and then the scene in front of her, was Vianney.
A very amused Vianney.
"What are you doing picking on her for," she asked the poltergeist saucily, motioning to Iliana before pointing behind them. "when there's a first year right over there just waiting to be honored with one of your infamous tricks?"
Iliana turned to see a young Hufflepuff standing by the stairs. He was completely oblivious to everything around him, worried solely about himself as he looked down one hall and then down another. He was clearly lost, not sure which way to go next.
"I'm sure you would have much more fun with him than with her!" Vianney persuaded Peeves, cocking her head to the blonde boy. "She's a bit of a bore. Trust me."
Peeves stared at the boy for a few moments, and then turned to study Iliana. She bit her tongue, staying silent as they stared at one another. She could tell Peeves was weighing his options. She could practically see the wheels turning in his head.
Then, after what felt like an eternity, the corners of his wide mouth quirked up into a calculating simper, and he let go of Iliana's plait, freeing her before soaring through the air to the poor, unsuspecting first year.
"That was mean." Iliana said cringing when the boy suddenly yelled out from having a waste paper basket dropped on his head.
"Mean?" Vianney questioned incredulously, placing her hands on her hips. "I just saved you from Peeves! But, oh, I'm so sorry if you thought my methods in doing so weren't the nicest. Would you rather I just called him back over here to keep teasing you instead? I can, you know?"
She raised her hand to motion him over.
"No! Please, don't!" pleaded Iliana, pulling down Vianney's arm. She felt bad for the Hufflepuff, but she also did not want to deal with Peeves for the second time in one day. "Thank you for helping me."
"You're welcome." responded Vianney promptly, flicking the tiniest piece of dust off of her cloak before examining her. She gasped. "My goodness, who tied your tie? It absolutely atrocious!"
Iliana turned crimson, looking down at her red and gold tie.
" I did."
"Well, you didn't do a very good job. It's all crooked." She explained, pulling Iliana closer, undoing the knot and retying it.
Iliana didn't say a word; too embarrassed she hadn't even been able to dress herself properly today.
"There. Now its perfect." Vianney said, smiling as she smoothed out Iliana's tie for the last time. "You may be a pesky little Gryffindor now, but you're still my sister and I can not have you walking around school looking a total mess! I have a reputation to maintain."
"Congratulations on being sorted, by the way." continued Vianney. "I hoped you would be put in Slytherin like Mother and I, but they only take the best wizards and witches, you know. Not everyone can be lucky enough to be a Slytherin."
"I'm happy to be in Gryffindor." Iliana defended, standing up for herself and her House.
"Sure you are." drawled Vianney sarcastically, holding back a snicker. "Anyway… shouldn't you be getting to class? The bell's going to ring any minute."
"Um, well…I don't really know where it is actually." confessed Iliana bashfully, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
Vianney sighed in annoyance.
"Which class is it?" she asked bluntly, raising a brow.
"Transfiguration."
This earned Iliana an eye roll.
"Since it's your first day I'll be nice and show you where it is." Vianney stated. "But pay attention to where were going because I'm showing you once, and only once. Alright?"
Iliana bobbed her head up and down. At this point she was going to take whatever she could get.
" Ok then. Follow me."
And Iliana did. She followed Vianney around Hogwarts, unquestioning and uncomplaining as she was lead to Transfiguration. They walked up flights of stairs and through various corridors, some were still crowded with people, others were deserted. But Iliana disregarded this factor as she trailed after her sister, more interested in analyzing where she was walking than the people situated there. Focused on memorizing the way to class she picked up on certain pieces of unique décor placed in her path, locking away the mental images of coats of armor and particular pieces of art in her brain for when she would need them again.
Soon enough the duo reached the classroom and parted ways. Iliana thanked her sister, managing to give the usually unaffectionate girl a hug, and watched her walk away, waiting until she turned the corner before taking a deep breath and proceeding into the room. The bell rang the moment she stepped through the doorway, and she hurried to find an empty seat, her eyes scanning over the rows of desks when she spotted an open chair next to Hermione. She smiled at the frizzy haired girl as she sat down; gaping once she noticed how prepared Hermione was for their lesson. Her portion of the desk was organized neatly with her already opened textbook set on the table, a considerable stack of blank parchment placed beside it, and not one but two quills to write with.
Concluding she should be ready to learn too, Iliana rustled through her bag, pulling out necessary note taking equipment and placing it on her workspace as Professor McGonagall stood in front of the class and began to speak.
"Good morning, class." She addressed, nodding her head in greeting. "And welcome to Transfiguration. In this course you will learn some of the most complex and dangerous magic taught at Hogwarts. Throughout your educational career you will acquire the information and skills needed to successfully change objects from there original forms into others, and master the art of conversion. It will take much time and effort, but by the time you come of age you will surely be capable of transforming any item into anything you wish."
With a flick of her wand Professor McGonagall exemplified her statement, effortlessly turning her brown wooden desk into a pink pig. She allowed the farm animal to let out a loud oink before altering it back into its original form.
This display of magic impressed the entire class, earning Professor McGonagall their undivided attention.
"That being said, I warn every single one of you to put your best efforts forward and not take this subject lightly. Anyone fooling around in my class will leave and not come back. Understood?"
Everyone nodded his or her head.
"Now, let us begin our first lesson. I would like you all to turn to the first chapter in your textbook and take notes as you read silently. Once you are finished, raise your hand, and I will provide you with the materials you will need to attempt your first try at Transfiguration."
Signaling the children to initiate the reading process, Professor McGonagall traversed to her escritoire, morphing into a tabby cat before leaping up onto it.
Dumbfounded, Iliana shook her head, rubbing her eyes in incredulity. She had never encountered an actual animagus before and the unforeseen shift from human to feline was quite shocking. Being as discrete as she could, Iliana surveyed the chamber, seeking out bright red hair and circular glasses. She wanted to see if Ron and Harry had witnessed the alteration in the Professor's physical character, curious if they were as taken aback as she was, but found them nowhere.
Where were they?
"Meow."
Iliana glanced over at her teacher, reddening when she discovered that the meow had been directed towards her. The Tabby cat looked her directly in the eye, then down at the book in front of her, clearly gesturing for her to get to work. Iliana smiled guiltily and glued her eyes to the page of her book, starting to interpret the words written on it. She picked up her quill to jot down notes as she read, but came to a stop when she aimed to dip her quill in ink and was met only with tabletop. Figuring she had forgotten to take it out of her bag, she dug through the satchel, becoming discontented when she didn't find it. She must have forgotten it back in the hall when she was dealing with Peeves.
"Here" Hermione whispered, noticing Iliana's lack of supplies. She slid her own inkpot so that it was situated between them. " You can use some of my ink."
"Thank you, Hermione!" whispered back Iliana, grateful for the girl's nice gesture. Dipping her quill into the black fluid, she quickly became immersed in her studies, writing down only the most important key points advertised throughout the chapter's content.
It was silent for a couple of minutes, the children actively scribbling on their papyrus, when the door extended from its closed position, opening to expose the presence of two tardy students.
Iliana lifted her head, pausing her handwriting to glimpse at the room's entrance. She perked up instantly, incapable of resisting the urge to grin. For hesitating by the door, eyeballs skimming intensely over the heads of seated students, were Harry and Ron, her friends. Glad they had finally showed up, Iliana stretched as tall as she could in her chair, craning her neck as high as it could go to try and capture their notice. Ron was the first one to recognize her, cracking a smile before nudging Harry and pointing to her. They then jogged over to her, stopping to stand around her desk.
"Whew. We made it." breathed Ron. "Can you imagine the look on old McGonagall's face if she knew we were late?"
Iliana paled, willing with all her might for Ron to be quiet. She couldn't see Professor McGonagall due to the fact that the boys weren't transparent, but knew the teacher had heard his comment, and was more than likely not too pleased.
"I don't even want to picture it." Harry commented, shaking his head before looking at Iliana "Where were you?"
"Yeah." Ron chimed. "We've been just about everywhere looking for you."
"Me?" Iliana questioned in confusion. "I waited for you guys so we could walk to class together, but you never came down."
"Well, we were running a little late." mumbled Ron, side-eying Harry. "Someone didn't want to get out of bed this morning."
"Excuse me." Hermione said, glaring at Ron and Harry as she put down her quill. "Can you two please sit down, and be quiet? Some of us are trying to work here."
"Work? But Professor McGonagall isn't even here yet." countered Ron questioningly.
Hermione rolled her eyes, nodding her head to Professor McGonagall.
That was the moment the Professor chose to reveal herself, morphing back into her human form as she jumped from her place on the table.
Harry and Ron's mouths fell ajar.
"That was bloody brilliant!" blurted Ron, stunned.
"Thank you for that assessment, Mr. Weasley." Professor McGonagall said, giving him a pointed look. "Perhaps it would be more useful if I were to transfigure Mr. Potter or yourself into a pocket watch? That way one of you might be on time."
"We got lost." Harry stuttered, eyes wide.
"Then perhaps a map?" McGonagall corrected, giving them a stern look over her square spectacles. "I trust you don't need one to find your seats?"
They shook their heads and plopped down in the closest chairs available to them, exchanging a look with each other, and then Iliana, before trying to catch up with the rest of the class.
Later, after taking a great deal of complex notes, each student was given a match with which they were to change into a needle. It was very complicated. Iliana tried her best to get the match to change, but the best she could do was get it half way there. One half of the object remained a wooden stick while the other half turned silver and pointy. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione had managed to successfully accomplish the given task, receiving well-deserved praise from Professor McGonagall for her achievement.
Iliana, Ron, and Harry stuck close together after that first class, united as they faced the challenges of navigating through the ginormous estate. Loosing and finding the right routes to their courses frequently, the trio found themselves in trouble more than once. Mr. Filch, always accompanied by his precious cat, Mrs. Norris, reprimanded them regularly, getting on their case about accidentally being where they weren't supposed to. And Peeves drove them bonkers, always seeming to pop up wherever they were to torture them. Along with that came the whispers and gossip regarding Harry. No matter where they were, whispers seemed to always float around them, eyes ogling Harry and his lightning shaped scar. Iliana could tell it made her friend uncomfortable, and would become more talkative whenever the gawking was more apparent, striving to drown out the buzzing of shallow babble to help her friend feel more normal.
The classes, once they succeeded in finding them, were brilliant. On the night of every Wednesday, they would venture up to the very top of the highest tower on the grounds and study the celestial black sky. They would study the movement of the planets and observe the beautiful, but different bodies of light gracing humanity with their presence, learning about their specific features as well as their names. Another class of theirs was Herbology. A sweet, pudgy, little witch named Professor Sprout taught this subject, educating the students on how to grow, care, and use the simplest and most exotic plant life known to wizard or witch.
The least captivating class they attended was, without a doubt, History of Magic. Iliana found the subject itself very intriguing, and truly wanted to like it, but it was very hard to considering who the teacher of the course was. Mr. Binns was a ghost, but his state of being wasn't the problem. It was his tone of voice that made it so difficult not to fall asleep during his lessons. Binns would simply drone on and on while they scribbled down names and dates, occasionally mixing up certain historical figures with others and confusing the students.
Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a stack of half a dozen books to see over his desk. When calling out role, the small wizard gave an excited squeak when he came to Harry's name, becoming so thrilled that he slipped off of his pile of publications and toppled out of sight.
The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's schooling turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. Regardless of the reason, Iliana couldn't stand the strong odor and covered her nose and mouth during most of the class, only taking periodic breaks to breathe. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but Iliana wasn't sure she believed this story. She didn't know of anyone that did.
On Friday morning, the three friends reached a goal they were beginning to think they would never obtain. They finally made it down to the Great Hall without getting lost.
"What have we got today?" Harry asked, pouring an excessive amount of sugar on his porridge.
"Double Potions with the Slytherins." Iliana said, taking a bite of her jam covered toast.
"Snape's Head of Slytherin House. Everyone says he always favors them – we'll be able to see if it's true." Ron commented with a mouth full of eggs.
"Wish McGonagall favored us." muttered Harry, scooping up a spoonful of warm cereal before letting it dribble back down into the bowl.
"Just because she gave us homework doesn't mean she doesn't favor us." opposed Iliana. "Maybe it means the opposite. Maybe she favors us so much that she wants us to learn as much as we can, so we can be the best."
Both Ron and Harry stopped eating, turning their heads to look at her skeptically.
"What?" Iliana questioned. "I said maybe…"
"I personally agree with your theory." piped in Hermione, who was sitting alone a couple of seats away.
"Yeah, well, nobody asked you." grunted Ron, groaning when Harry thwacked his shoulder.
"You do?" Iliana said, smiling at Hermione.
The Gryffindor genius nodded.
"Its makes perfect sense. She's a clever witch, she would want the ones she favors to be clever too."
"My ideal Professor wouldn't make me do any work, or give me any homework!" voiced Ron.
"So, you mean a Professor who would give you an A for doing absolutely nothing?" challenged Hermione.
"Exactly."
The post arrived then, the hooting of owls alerting the students of Hogwarts before the birds swooped into the Great Hall, flapping their wings as they circled over the tables, searching for their owners and dropping letters and packages onto their laps once they found them. Iliana analyzed every owl as they soared into the chamber, hoping to spot Driscoll among the array of feathered animals. Driscoll was Annalise's owl, and Iliana had borrowed him earlier in the week to deliver a letter she had written to her Mother and Father. She was eagerly waiting for a response from them, and trusted that today was the day she would collect one. It was! Thankfully, Iliana located the beautiful black and brown winged fowl just as he swooped in from the outside world. She bounced in her seat, raising her arm high in the air so he could see her, and smiled as he flew over to her.
"Good boy, Driscoll! Thank you!" she praised, stroking the animal in gratitude before untying one of three letters attached to his leg. The bird nipped at her ear affectionately, took the piece of bread she offered him in his beak, and returned to the air, sailing to the Hufflepuff, and then the Slytherin table to deliver the rest of the mail to her sisters.
Dying to hear from her parents, Iliana tore open the letter, rushing to read what they had written her.
Dear Baby Daughter,
Congratulations on being sorted into Gryffindor! We are so very proud of you, Love. We know you are going to go on to accomplish great things in life, and can't wait until you do! Now, how are you, darling? Are your sisters taking care of you? Helping you with whatever you need? Just tell us if they aren't, and we'll have a stern talking with them. Are you eating regularly? Doing your schoolwork? We hope you are! It's very important you do the best you can in school. Anyhow, we love and miss you very much, and are so glad you're so happy at Hogwarts! We can't wait until the next time we can give you lots of hugs and kisses. We're counting down the days until Christmas Holidays, especially Jispey. Write us soon.
Love,
Mummy, and Daddy
Iliana's heart warmed, delighted to have finally heard from her parents. She folded the letter, placing it back into its envelope, and then into her satchel for safekeeping. She would read it again later. Then, aiming to finish her breakfast, she turned back to her plate, pleasantly surprised when she found Hedwig drinking from her water goblet.
"Thirsty, Hedwig?" she asked the bird, giggling.
Hedwig lifted her head, answering her with a cute hoot, and hopped over to her, nuzzling her downy head into the crook of Iliana's neck.
Iliana chuckled again, softly embracing the snowy owl before looking at Ron and Harry. Ron was occupied with chugging down the last of his milk, while Harry was busy reading a letter sent to him.
"Hagrid wants me to go have tea with him today at three." Harry said borrowing Ron's quill to respond to the half-giant's request. "Do you two want to go with me?"
Iliana and Ron accepted the invitation gleefully, waiting for Harry to send Hedwig off with his reply to Hagrid before heading to potions class. Potions lessons took place down in the dungeons. It was colder here than in any other main part of the castle. It was also a bit spookier. Iliana felt a bit queasy as she took a seat between Harry and Ron in the chilled, eerie room, making an effort to avoid staring at the animal parts floating in glass jars aligned on the shelves.
The students chatted amongst themselves as they waited for the potions master to arrive, falling silent when the door to the chamber suddenly swung open, revealing Professor Snape. The tall, greasy-haired man traipsed to the front of the room, not sparing a single glance at his new students, but instead preferring to simply glance at their names written on a scroll. He started class by calling out roll, pausing at Harry's name.
"Ah, yes," he murmured. "Harry Potter. Our new – celebrity."
Draco and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands.
Iliana took it upon herself to glare at them.
Snape looked up at the class once he finished calling names.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word – like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand waving here, hardly any of you will believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldrons with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
Only silence followed his little speech. Iliana, Ron, and Harry exchanged glances while Hermione slid to the edge of her seat, looking more than ready to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead.
"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Harry froze, speechless while Hermione's hand shot into the air.
Snape stared at Harry expectantly, waiting for an answer. When he got none, he probed the boy further.
"You don't know? Well, let's try again. Where, Mr. Potter, would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
Hermione stretched her hand even higher in the air, but was still ignored.
"I don't know, sir," admitted Harry.
"And what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
"I don't know, sir," mumbled Harry, again.
"Pity." said Snape. "Clearly fame isn't everything, is it, Mr. Potter?"
Iliana frowned, bothered by her Professor's persistent picking on Harry.
"Clearly Hermione knows." responded Harry, bothered as well. "Seems a pity not to ask her."
The class laughed.
"Put your hand down, you silly girl." Snape snapped at Hermione, his black eyes never leaving Harry. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is know as the Draught of Living Death. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"
Iliana clumsily rummaged for a quill and paper, along with the rest of her classmates. Over the scrambling of things, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor for your cheek, Potter."
Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape 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 weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Draco, whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the entire class scrambled to stand on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up 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?"
Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.
Iliana smashed her lips together, struggling to stay silent. She didn't want to speak out of turn, but Neville had made an honest mistake. He hadn't meant to mess up! It was an accident!
"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat to Seamus, rounding on Harry and Ron the moment they walked out the door.
"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."
Iliana's face scrunched up in befuddlement. How in the world was this Harry's fault? She squared her shoulders, opening her mouth to fight for Harry's innocence in the situation when Ron poked her arm, shaking his head.
"Don't push it," he muttered, "I've heard Snape can turn very nasty."
"Is he not nasty now?" Iliana grumbled, scowling at Professor Snape when he wasn't looking. "Could have fooled me."
An hour later, the threesome basically sprinted from the dungeons; elated they no longer had to endure Snape's instruction. Traveling across the castle, and out the main entrance of the fortress into the warm sunshine, they moved across the grounds, admiring the scenery around them as they walked. They halted in their tracks when they came to a small wooden house built right on the edge of the forbidden forest. While Harry knocked on the door, Iliana squinted her eyes, trying to see past the thick cluster of trees deeper into the woodlands, pondering what creatures existing within it made the forest so prohibited until a scrabbling came from inside the hut, followed with several booming barks.
"Back, Fang – back." sounded Hagrid's voice from the other side of the door. His big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled open the door.
"Hang on," he said. "Back, Fang."
He let them in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound. There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.
"Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang. The dog bounded over to Ron, knocking him down on the couch and licking his ears. Iliana giggled, sitting down next to the disgusted ginger to pet the canine. Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked. After tasting enough of Ron's ears, Fang turned to Iliana, wagging his tail as he jumped on her lap, squishing her with his weight. Though it was a bit hard for her to breath, Iliana didn't mind Fang's heaviness and smiled as she ran her hands over his furry body, laughing happily when his long tongue licked her face.
"This is Ron," Harry told Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes onto a plate. "and Iliana."
"Another Weasley, eh?" said Hagrid, glancing at Ron's freckles. "I spent half of me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest."
"Sorry." apologized Ron.
Hagrid turned to Iliana then, smiling sincerely as he offered her a rock cake.
"Nice ter meet yeh, young lady."
"Nice to meet you too, Hagrid." Iliana said, grinning as she picked up a chunky block of pastry.
The rock cakes were shapeless lumps with raisins that were so hard they almost broke their teeth, but Iliana, Harry, and Ron pretended to be enjoying them as they told Hagrid about their first lessons, shoving them into the pockets of their cloaks instead of down their throats. Fang rested by Iliana's feet, rolled over on his back so she could rub his belly. The trio was delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch "that old git."
"An' as fer that cat, Mrs. Norris, I'd like ter introduce her to fang sometime."
Iliana chuckled. Something told her Fang wouldn't do anything to Mrs. Norris. He probably would be the one afraid of her, not the other way around.
"D'yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can't get rid of her – Filch puts her up to it."
Iliana, Ron, and Harry continued on with the tale of their first week of school, enlightening Hagrid about their horrible lesson with Snape, and how he had treated Harry.
"Ah, don' worry 'bout 'im, Harry." said Hagrid. "It's rare Snape likes any studen' at all."
"But he seemed to really hate me."
"Rubbish!" dismissed Hagrid. "Why should he?"
"I don't know, Hagrid. But he was really mean to Harry. He kept calling on him to answer questions no one really even knew, and blamed him for every little thing that went wrong in class today." Iliana stated, siding with Harry.
"How's yer brother Charlie?" Hagrid asked Ron. "I liked him a lot – great with animals."
Iliana blinked, taken aback at how abruptly he had changed the subject. Deeming that he no longer wanted to discuss the issue, Iliana sat on the floor, playing with Fang while Ron told Hagrid about his brother's work with dragons.
"Hagrid!" said Harry, interrupting their conversation. He held a clipping from the Daily Prophet in his hand. "That Gringotts break in happened on my birthday! It might have been happening while we were there!"
Iliana looked from Hagrid, to Harry, and then back to Hagrid. The adult man said nothing, simply offering Harry another rock cake instead of an answer. Harry frowned at this, furrowing his brows at Hagrid's behavior.
They left Hagrid's hut as the sun set in the sky, preparing to rest itself as the moon readied to take its place in the atmosphere. Stomachs grumbling, they made their way back to the castle for dinner, discussing Hagrid's suspicious behavior and the break in at Gringotts quietly amongst themselves as they filled their guts with food.