Alexandra Potter
Chapter 7
Scene 2/3
Alex's first week at Hogwarts went by in a rush of lessons and impromptu explorations. It was all too easy to get lost when trying to navigate the castle's rather confusing floor plan, and it didn't help that the place seemed to spontaneously rearrange itself. If the moving staircases weren't enough, whole sections of the castle seemed to disappear on certain days, only to reappear half a week later on the other side of the building. Still, it looked like the teachers had some measure of control over it, because Alex's classrooms were always in the same place.
She and Susan were quickly proving inseparable, and they were widely acknowledged as best friends. While Alex helped Susan with magic, Susan helped Alex to learn the ways of wizards and witches. The first time someone had bowed to her in the corridor between classes, she'd had no idea what to do.
"Lady Potter," an older boy had said, before bowing surprisingly deeply. Alex froze.
"Give him your hand," whispered Susan out of the corner of her mouth. Alex did so, and the boy brushed his lips near her ring finger.
"Robert Giles, of Telford," he said, "at your service."
And with that he was gone.
After that, Alex had looked the boy up, and found that he was the heir to the Baron of Telford, who officially owed her fealty. Susan told her with glee that if she ever needed to duel, she could call upon either the Baron or Robert to do so on her behalf. It was all a bit strange, but from that day on, Alex was ready for those rare occasions when someone might recognise her rank. For the most part, the Slytherins ignored her, and the Hufflepuffs didn't seem to care about anything like that, but the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws occasionally surprised her.
Strange meetings in the corridors aside, Alex was primarily concerned with learning magic. Her lessons were all fascinating, expanding upon what she'd read in her books, and the library was huge. Knowing how expensive books were, the library had to be worth millions of pounds. Most people seemed to read inside the library itself, but Alex prefered to take the books out, returning to Hufflepuff to read them in the stone garden.
If Susan ever wanted to find Alex, she knew exactly where to find her: with her nose stuck in a book. By the end of the week she'd already finished two: Iron Will - a guide to the properties of iron and a variety of derivative metals, which helped her understand how to transfigure metals properly - and Ball's Bestiary, which was a guide to Dark creatures. Much more interesting than their Defence textbook.
Their first Defence lesson with Master Veigel had been a revelation.
"In!" he had commanded when he arrived at the classroom, and they entered into a room devoid of any decoration or warmth. They sat behind their desks in silence, something about Veigel's presence dissuading any notion of chatter. Some teachers had it, some didn't. Veigel, with his shaved head and pointy little beard, had it. He looked like some evil sorcerer from a Disney movie - only he was very real.
For several minutes he simply stood at the front of the class, staring at them as they fidgeted under his gaze. When he finally spoke, it was so sudden that many jumped.
"The Dark Arts," he barked, "is most powerful branch of magic. This is fact. Let no one to tell you otherwise. To defend yourself of them - and I have been said this is all I teach here - you must first understand."
Alex frowned. Their Professor couldn't even speak English properly? He opened the drawer of the desk and pulled out a copy of The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection.
"How many read this?"
Looking around with hesitation, Alex raised her hand, one of only two who did - a bushy haired girl from Gryffindor was the other.
"Good. Is schwachsinn. You two, forget all of this book."
Alex had thought the book was crap already, so this was no problem for her. The other girl, however, looked scandalised.
"But, Professor..." she began.
"No Professor here," Veigel said firmly. "I am Master Viegel. Now, girl, what is your name?"
"Hermione, sir," she said.
"Give me your book, Herm-nee," he said. Before she could answer, he flicked his wand and summoned it to him.
"Today, we learn Snapping spell," he said, addressing the whole class once more. "Example." He raised his wand with an exaggerated movement, before bringing it down like a hammer on Hermione's book. There was a cracking sound, and the book snapped roughly in two. Hermione gasped, but the rest of the class leaned forward. A real spell! In the first class!
"No one leave before all books are destroyed."
And no one did. None of them could cast the spell anywhere near like Veigel could - for most of them, it just bent the book along the spine, or tore a page out - but by the end of the lesson the classroom was covered in mangled books and torn paper.
Alex's favourite lesson had to be Transfiguration, which they had twice a week with Professor McGonagall herself. Alex realised that the material was pretty hard, compared to their other classes, but she just seemed to have a knack for it, above and beyond the ease with which she took to magic in general.
Still, despite her wide reading and natural talent, Professor McGonagall's advice proved invaluable.
"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will practice while at Hogwarts," she began, before turning her desk into a pig with a single tap. Alex's eyes widened at the casual display of advanced spellwork. McGonagall was formidable in more than just demeanor, it seemed. She turned the pig back into a desk with a flick - no, a reeling motion, Alex realised - and the class sat up eagerly. Alex exchanged an excited glance with Susan.
"With one slipped syllable, one lazy motion, you could seriously injure yourself, your peers, or cause undue pain to a living subject." As she spoke, she began to pace up and down between the rows of desks, making sure to meet all of their eyes. "As such, Transfiguration requires the utmost care and diligence. If I ever see anyone messing around with spells in my class - attempting to Transfigure your fellow students, for example - they will be punished most severely."
Human Transfiguration was an advanced topic, Alex knew, and they wouldn't be starting it for years. She dreaded to think what would happen if one of them tried it now, with so little training.
"Today will be a practical lesson, to give you a taste of the subject" said McGonagall, to the pleasure of all. Alex had noticed that even the Pureblood children loved the novelty of having their own wands. "I do not expect perfection - nor, indeed, success. You will not master the content of today's lesson until your second year. But you will learn much from the trying."
The lesson's task was to Transfigure a matchstick into an iron needle. McGonagall had spoken truly: it was an advanced task, from the latter half of A Beginner's Guide: the part which focused on the Transformation spell. Alex had focused almost entirely on the simpler Mutation spell over the summer. The Mutation spell just changed the shape of an object, whereas the Transformation spell also changed the material. The difficulty of such a feat was substantially higher.
It was a good thing Alex had read the book several times over, as they didn't go into much theory - McGonagall just described the bare minimum of the spell, though Alex noticed a couple of the Gryffindor boys beginning to doze off, even during that short explanation. And then they were off, and for a moment Alex just enjoyed watching the others.
Everyone had their own approach to spellcasting. Hermione Granger, rather than pick up her wand, had apparently decided to re-read half of the book. It looked like Seamus Finnegan - a likeable Irish boy from Gryffindor - thought that the way to Transfigure something was to beat it hard with your wand. Lily Moon was muttering under her breath without doing much else, and Ron Weasley was practically shouting the spell - mangling the words in the process.
Susan wasn't doing too badly, actually. A lot better than most of the class. That didn't mean much, but she was at least saying the words - Lignum Verto - correctly.
"Your jab is too close to the match," Alex offered as she watched Susan's hand. Susan's response was to look pointedly at Alex's own match, which lay untouched.
Alex laughed. "Point taken," she said, and turned to her own work.
Okay, she thought, mentally reviewing the spell movements. She understood the mechanics of Transformation theory well enough. No need to review that. But the motions themselves were important too. Firm grip. Reduced fourth position is an invocation of iron, twisting from closed to open first, to denote the transformation of the object. Jab from open first into closed first with the incantation to imbue the spell with power, and to indicate the transformation from a living material to dead. Stop the jab short, as a matchstick is close to a needle.
Her hand moved, and she went through the motions with ease.
"Lignum verto!" she said, firmly but not loudly, and stopped the jab short.
The match wobbled and flashed silver, but stubbornly remained matchstick-like. Alex frowned, and tried again.
"Lignum verto!"
The same thing happened. What am I doing wrong? My Articulation is correct, I think. It's making the change, then reverting. So the form of the spell is right, else it wouldn't be the right object that it's turning into. The needle is resisting the change... maybe I need to just need to overpower the resistance.
Alex looked around cautiously. The book had said never to do it. Maybe she should ask McGonagall... and then she saw Hermione pick up her wand, and cast the spell pretty well. She rotated her wrist unevenly, Alex thought, but not much else was wrong with her wand motions.
Like Alex's, Hermione's match quivered and flashed a silver colour.
"That's right, Miss Granger!" said McGonagall, "a point to Gryffindor."
Alex turned back to her match with new determination. She wouldn't let Hermione beat her.
"Lignum Verto!" she said, forcefully, and just as she made the jab, she flicked her elbow up slightly, making it almost a forward flick.
Her match turned into a shiny needle: silvery and pointed, with an eye at one end.
"You did it!" said Susan, looking at her in awe. As one, the class turned to stare at her, and McGonagall came striding over. She picked up the needle, and gave Alex a piercing look.
"Again," she said, and she returned the needle to a match with a flick of her wand.
Alex swallowed, glancing around at the class. They were all watching her. Hermione looked like someone had slapped her.
She did the spell.
"Lignum Verto!" she said, trying to disguise the trick with her elbow. The match turned into a needle. The class clapped, and McGonagall's lips thinned.
"Miss Potter, are you aware of what you just did?" she asked, interrupting the applause.
Alex licked her lips. She was never good at lying. She decided to go with the truth. Who knows? Maybe that's what you're meant to do. It needed more power, after all.
"Yes," she replied, simply.
"Five points from Hufflepuff," McGonagall said, before turning Alex's needle back. "Let me be clear," she said, addressing the whole class now. "There will be no Dark magic in my classroom. I do not tolerate it, and neither does Professor Dumbledore."
Alex blushed deeply as the class looked at her in shock - except Hermione, who had an insufferably smug look on her face.
"Back to work!" said McGonagall, and the class busied itself once more. Professor McGonagall turned back to Alex.
"It's best to nip these things in the bud, Miss Potter. It may seem harmless now, but a raised elbow like that can be extremely dangerous when performing animate or human Transfiguration. Now, show me the spell again. Properly, this time."
Alex, suitably chastised, did the spell - without the elbow. Once more, the match flashed silver and looked momentarily pointy, before returning to a match.
This time, McGonagall smiled. A small smile - just a quirk of the lips, really - but a smile nonetheless.
"I can see you've been reading, Miss Potter. Your spell is near-perfect."
"But why doesn't it work?" said Alex, confused. A near perfect spell should be able to make at least a partial Transfiguration.
"The material," McGonagall replied. "Wood comes from a living thing, and is easily Transfigured. Metal, however, is dead and doesn't like to change. It resists magic, to varying degrees. The reason why the elbow worked was because you needed to overcome that resistance."
"So how do I overcome it, without using my elbow?" Alex asked, excited. This was why she was at Hogwarts. This was stuff she couldn't learn from books.
"You don't overcome it. No - you work with it. You must understand the substance, modes and attributes of metals to transfigure them."
That made sense. A Beginner's Guide had included chapters on the nature of Form and Substance, but both had used glass and wood as examples.
"Normally I wouldn't recommend a first year study such things. However... I recommend you read this book," - she scribbled a name and author on Alex's notes - "if you want a good introduction to Transfiguring metals. You can find it in the library."
By the end of the lesson, no one had succeeded in even a partial Transfiguration. Alex and Hermione's brief flash of silver was the furthest anyone had gone, and neither of them had got any further.
Alex got Iron Will out of the library immediately - she didn't know if Hermione had also been told about it, and she wanted to take it before Hermione could. It had meant she was almost late for History of Magic - taught by a young and rather clumsy man called Mr Hunt - but it was worth it.
Her other lessons were as she expected. Latin was boring but useful; Herbology was fun but a bit pointless, unless you were stuck without an apothecary. Philosophy was similar to History of Magic, but instead of events and countries they were thinking about the history of ideas. Their first lesson was about an Ancient Greek called Aristotle and his "categories". Professor Waffling was good, but he was a bit confusing sometimes - Alex thought that perhaps he wasn't used to talking to children.
Astronomy - for which they had to get up at midnight on Wednesday evenings - was tiring, but it was interesting learning about the names of the stars. Alex had a bit of trouble seeing the shapes in the sky that Professor Sinistra talked about - it just looked like a mess of dots to her, and which dots made up the shapes seemed completely arbitrary - but it was pretty anyway.
It was Potions and Charms, though, which Alex had been looking forward to most, aside from Transfiguration. Unfortunately, her first lessons in both - sandwiching lunch on Thursday - proved to be unpleasant experiences.
"Potions is the oldest form of magic taught at Hogwarts," began Professor Snape, starting to talk before he had even reached the front of the class. He was younger than Professor Veigel, but had a similar presence. His cloak billowed behind him as he walked, and he had a way of looking at you that felt like it pierced your soul.
"It possesses truly unique powers, unreplicable by wand, and is often more reliable than Charms, more powerful than Transfiguration. Where a Transformed Human may be vulnerable to Untransfiguration, Polyjuice is not. When a Charm may be insufficient to augment human capabilities, a Potion can."
He paused at the front of the class, and sneered at them.
"Of course, most students never fully grasp the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron, nor the power of its products. It takes a certain subtlety of mind to truly understand Potions, a subtlety which some," - he turned to look pointedly at Alex - "lack."
Alex frowned. Had she offended him in some way?
"Today we will see if any of you have the aptitude to make something of yourself in my classroom. Open your books to page one-hundred and ninety-four." The class scrambled for their books. Salve to Cure Boils, the page read, right above the instructions.
"Miss Potter!" Snape said, spinning on his heel to face her. "What is the difference between a salve and a potion?"
"You don't boil a salve, sir, and the result is thicker, so you can put it on your skin," she answered. It was in the second chapter of their book.
Snape's lip curled.
"Correct," he spat, and he turned back to the blackboard. He didn't look very happy that she'd got it right. No points or anything. With a wave of his wand, a piece of chalk floated up and began to write instructions. "You will work individually," he said without facing the class. "you have an hour. Should you need more ingredients, the store is clearly marked."
Alex frowned. Wasn't he going to tell them any more? She had questions. But it seemed like he wanted to see how they worked without instruction - a test. Alex quickly set up her cauldron as the book had described, and took out a chopping board. She read the instructions again, making sure she had all the ingredients to hand - meanwhile, she noticed Susan was already grinding her snake fangs.
Alex prefered to work more systematically. What if you started the potion, and then spent time at a crucial moment looking for the next ingredient? Still, she couldn't help but feel the need to rush - she didn't want to finish last. As she checked the instructions, she began to notice small differences between the instructions in the book and those on the board. The book called for a half pint of water, but the board said to use only a third. The book said to take the the cauldron off the heat before adding the Porcupine Quills, the board said nothing.
Porcupine quills reacted strongly to heat, Alex remembered. If you added them to the cauldron before turning off the fire, the mixture would probably explode. Why had Snape left it out of his instructions? And why was the water different?
Alex raised her hand.
"You have a question, Miss Potter?" Snape said, swooping over to her desk.
"Yes, sir. What effect does reducing the water have on the salve?"
"It may surprise you to learn, Potter, that I'm not here to hold your hand. I understand that you're something of a... celebrity. However, you cannot expect any special treatment in my class."
Alex blushed as Susan looked over. That wasn't what she was asking for at all!
"How... disappointing," Snape continued, and it was clear he wanted the whole class to hear - there was a gloating sound in his voice. "It appears our local celebrity is unwilling to think for herself. Do you see any of your classmates asking such questions?"
That didn't mean much, Alex thought. Sophie hadn't even measured her water, and Wayne had added his snake fangs after hitting them with the pestle once. The others obviously weren't thinking it through.
"Did you know, Miss Potter, that I knew your mother?"
Alex almost stopped breathing. This man had been friends with her Mum? The class was quiet now, potions momentarily forgotten.
"Yes, indeed. Lily Evans was among the most talented witches to walk these halls. She had a particular gift with potions." Snape glanced over Alex's workspace, and it was very obvious that she hadn't even started the potion. "To think that she died for one such as you."
Alex opened her mouth to speak, but she was speechless. I won't cry, she thought. I won't. Not here.
With one last penetrating look, Snape walked away. Alex blinked back a tear. She'd show him. She'd make her parents proud. Tears aren't part of the potion, she thought, trying to rub her eyes without anyone seeing.
"Ignore him," said Susan, reaching out to grip her hand. "I'll help you, if you like."
"I don't need help," Alex snapped, and she snatched her hand back. Susan looked hurt, before turning back to her own potion.
"Fine," she said.
They worked in silence after that. Alex regretted being mean, but was determined to focus on her potion. She worked exactly, following the instructions as closely as possible, deciding to go with Snape's change. After a bit of thought, she figured out that using a quarter pint would cut down the reduction time, but you'd have to do it on a lower heat, and add another round of stirring to make sure everything dissolved properly.
At the end of the lesson, Alex's cauldron held three tablespoons worth of thick, creamy white paste. She was one of the few: Susan's was okay, if a bit yellow; Sophie's had somehow turned out well too, and Astrid's was almost identical to Alex's. Sophie and Susan received praise from Snape, who held up their salves to the class as examples. Alex and Astrid were ignored.
"What a crown," said Lily as soon as they were out of earshot. "He actually called me a dunderhead. What the fuck - who actually speaks like that?"
Alex smiled. Normally she thought Lily was a bit... abrasive. But anyone who called Snape a crown was all right in her books. They sat together for lunch, taking turns to criticise Snape: his manner, his speech, and especially his physical appearance.
"I wonder if he's a vampire," said Alex, not entirely seriously. "Ball's Bestiary mentioned them. Pale skin, a preference for dark places... I wonder what'd happen if he went out in the sun."
"Ball's Bestiary... Alex, you need to get out more," said Lily. "Do you ever just... hang out?"
"Of course I do," replied Alex -
"She just reads at the same time," added Susan, smiling. It looked like she'd forgiven Potions. Alex couldn't interpret the looks she was giving Lily, though. "Come on, Alex," Susan said as soon as they had finished eating. "It's time for Charms."
She practically dragged Alex from the table, leaving Lily - who still hadn't finished - sitting alone.
"God, Lily is such a bitch," said Susan as they walked away, and Alex frowned. Sure, Lily was rude, but Susan hadn't shown any sign of disliking her before. "The way she talks about everyone... and remember how she treated Hannah, at the sorting feast?"
"I guess," said Alex, a bit uncomfortable, but that seemed enough for Susan, who smiled at her.
Hufflepuff had Charms with Slytherin. Their class was taught by Professor Winters, something the boys seemed rather happy about. And Alex had to admit, she was much nicer to look at than Professor Flitwick, who was rather old and very short.
"Charms is the bread and butter of magic," said Professor Winters, once she had sat them boy-girl alternating. She had a matter-of-fact way of speaking - cheerful and entirely unrefined. It was a welcome change from being surrounded by posh kids. "Most of the magic you'll do in everyday life and work comes under Charms. Now, Hogwarts has a tradition which dates back over four hundred years. So books away, everyone, and stand up, please."
They followed her instructions excitedly, and as soon as they were all standing, Winters flicked her wand, clearing the desks to the sides of the room.
"Incendio!" she said, pointing her wand at the centre of the stone floor, and suddenly a huge fire erupted, burning from the floor to the ceiling. The heat from it was instantly noticeable, and Alex began to sweat. Even though it was burning on stone, the fire showed no sign of stopping - or growing.
"Everyone in a semi-circle around the fire," said Winters, "and observe." She moved her want slowly through the positions, making sure they could see properly. Fifth, right next to the side of her head - invocation of fire. Second, in front of the body, pointing upwards - used to cast on yourself. Alex realised where the lesson was going and grinned. Yes! She'd wanted to try the spell at home, but had lacked the fire to make it worth it.
Winters finished the spell by tapping herself on the forehead, calling out "Corpellus!". And then she stepped into the fire.
A couple of girls screamed in shock, before she walked out of the fire through the other side, completely unharmed. The class clapped, and she gave a mocking bow.
"The Flame-Freezing Charm," she said, "has been the first Charm taught to first years at Hogwarts since the witch burnings of the 1600s. By the time you leave class today, you'll be able to cast it too."
She made them practice the wand movements and the incantation separately, before putting them together. But there was something odd about it - over and over her books had talked about how important it was to truly understand the magic, not just go through the motions. And yet here they were, just learning about the words and sounds. She raised her hand, and Professor Winters walked over to where she and Susan were practicing.
"Yes, Miss Potter?" she said.
"I have a question about the Charm," Alex said, and the Professor motioned for her to continue. "Well, isn't it - I mean, shouldn't we have to study a load before we can cast it properly?"
Winters smiled, and clapped to get the whole class' attention.
"Miss Potter has asked a very interesting question. Would you like to repeat it for the class, Alexandra?"
"Shouldn't we have to learn some theory, before we can cast the spell?"
"Any ideas?" asked Professor Winters, giving the class an opportunity to speak. All she got were blank stares - and a few accusing looks at Alex, as if she was trying to ruin their fun.
"No? Okay, I'll tell you. Normally, Alexandra would be right - you have to understand magic to be able to use it. But the Flame Freezing charm was the subject of one of the most exciting projects in the history of Charms. Some of the most brilliant minds of the 18th century worked on this problem, refining the theory behind it over and over. The goal was to make it so simple that any 11 year old could cast it. So that any witch or wizard would be able to defend themselves from burning. And they succeeded - which is why now all you need to learn are the movements and words, and you can cast the spell."
They returned to practicing, but Professor Winters' answer only left Alex with even more questions. What, exactly, was a spell? How was it that a man three hundred years ago could refine a spell theory to its most simple, and then she could cast the spell without knowing it?
"You'll have to ask Professor Waffling about what a spell is, I'm afraid," replied Professor Winters, when she asked. "It's more his area. But I can answer the second question. The theory is so simple that it's actually contained within the incantation and wand movements. The invocation of fire, the intent to defend, and the desire to cast on yourself - that's all the spell is, now."
After another ten minutes practice they were ready.
"Okay, everyone!" called Winters, "enough practice. Everyone line up in front of the fire."
They gathered nervously in a line - it was one thing to practice, it was entirely another to walk into a roaring flame.
"You don't think she'd actually let us walk into the fire, if we've got the Charm wrong, do you?" said Susan as they waited their turn.
"I'm sure she's in con-"
"Well, look who it is," interrupted Daphne, coming to stand behind them. A pair of Slytherin girls were with her - Pansy, Alex thought one of them was called - and a giant of a girl called Millicent Bullstrode. "It's the Muggle lover."
Alex scowled, but couldn't think of anything clever to say. Daphne smirked.
"So, you don't deny it? You are a Muggle lover?"
Pansy and Millicent giggled, and Alex noticed a couple of others were beginning to listen in. She spun back around.
"I am not," she spat, glaring at Daphne.
"Oh? So you agree, then? That Muggleborns aren't real wizards?"
"That wasn't what I said," Alex replied. God, why is she so stupid?
"Stupid Potter, can't even make up her mind," said Daphne, turning to Pansy. There was a jeering tone to her voice that made Alex want to punch her in the face. "Do you even know what we're talking about?"
Alex seethed. She wasn't stupid. She wasn't a Muggle lover. She wasn't obsessed with blood like the Purebloods. She was in the middle somewhere.
"Just because I-" she began, but Professor Winters called over.
"Pay attention, girls!"
Alex turned back to the front, ignoring the whispers of "teacher's pet" coming from behind her. While she waited, she entertained herself with thoughts of Daphne's Charm failing as she walked into the fire. Before long it was her turn.
"Corpellus!" she said, taking her wand through the motions.
"Perfect!" said Professor Winters, and Alex stepped forward into the fire. She felt nothing - a slight breeze, perhaps, but certainly no heat. "Good!" said Winters again, "Next!"
After those first classes, their lessons turned thoroughly theoretical. It seemed that the teachers liked to do a bit of practical magic in the first class, but afterwards they began with the real stuff - which meant books and notes and diagrams and not many spells. That suited Alex fine, as she found theory interesting, but she could tell many of her classmates were both bored and confused by it. How do they not understand?, Alex found herself thinking many times, whenever one of their Professors was forced to explain the same thing again.
She'd also found herself avoiding Daphne, who took every opportunity to call her names. If it had just been Daphne, it wouldn't have bothered her - but it wasn't. That became clear at dinner on Friday evening. It was the end of her first week at Hogwarts, and she was sitting, as usual, at the Hufflepuff table with Susan.
"I really don't understand how you can eat so much and be so thin," said Susan, staring at Alex's plate, which was piled high with sausage and mash. "It's just not fair."
Alex didn't know if it was because she was just the way she was, or if it was because she was a metamorphmagus. She couldn't tell Susan that, though.
"Just lucky, I guess," she said as she poured gravy all over her potato.
"Hey, Muggle lover! Pass the gravy won't you?"
Everyone laughed, and Alex froze. It was Tiberius. He was grinning cheekily - that stupid grin he always had, with his stupid scruffy hair. She stood up.
"Fuck you!" she said, and she threw the gravy at him, before storming out of the Great Hall.