Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was a stronghold built by wizards and witches during the beginning of the tenth century. From the perspective of a Muggle, it would look like an abandoned dangerous ruin to deter non-magical visitors. It was said that it could not be mapped due to its unplottable nature with wandering hallways, moving staircases, disappearing doors, and the ancient tunnel systems (two systems that had no knowledge of the other one as they were constructed by two different Founders). Unlike castles built around the same timeframe, Hogwarts was thin-walled and poorly protected from sieges. It lacked an enceinte and moats as it sat on top of a very tall cliff face. One could either fly to Hogwarts, take a boat into the underground cave, or ride a Thestral-drawn carriage to the gateway. It had wards to protect itself from magicians who could Apparate into its walls and the only fireplace that was connected to Floo network was the headmaster's own.
The wall torch cast onto the rough limestone stone hallway was broken by shadows as two bodies emerged from an arched cutout. "Where are we?" One girl asked the other in excited curiosity. The sound caused a tapestry of a golden knight fighting a bear and had both subjects pause and stare at the intrusion. Fervent footsteps of the castle's caretaker followed by softer ones from his animal companion stopped in front of the pair.
"Latecomers, the headmaster must be informed," the man murmured in tired defeat. "Stay right there," he turned away, leaving his cat to remain as guard. Mrs. Norris prowled with military precision, waiting for her owner to return from the Great Hall. Three others returned with Argus Filch who bent down to reward her with a mushed treat he produced from the torn pocket of his moth-eaten coat. A tall, pale man looked at the pair with condescension flanked by women with a neat bun and a disappointed look on her face. The third man was shorter than his colleagues and much older with the end of his beard tucked into an ornate belt that wrapped around his oversized periwinkle robes.
"We always have a couple who miss the train," Albus Dumbledore smiled softly as he pushed his half-moon spectacles up his crooked nose. "It is a shame that you have missed the welcoming festivities, but you made it in time for dessert. The elves this year have truly outdone themselves, wouldn't you agree, Severus?"
The man with a greasy sheet of black hair ignored Dumbledore's question, "They are not students, Albus. I would know if they belonged here," Severus Snape said with certainty as if he had catalogued every student, staff member and other assorted Hogwarts residents in his mind. He took in the two girls before him and focused on the one that looked owlishly confused. She wore diamond shaped plastic spectacles obscuring her brown eyes, and their arms were tucked behind her hair. Her face and body were tanned more than usual from a day in the sun with her friend, as dark as her eyes. She stood at attention with her white singlet, red colour flannel shirt tied on top of it, dark blue jeans, and a pair of sparkly pink thongs. Not a single part of her outfit matched but she looked happy and comfortable in it.
The other girl was much shorter and paler and wore light blue denim jeans that brought out her eyes. Her brown hair neatly done up in a ponytail. She looked almost judgementally at the group with her squinted eyes. If they are new students, they would at least be in their robes by now,he thought. He looked at the bulge in her pocket, it was far too small to fit a trunk, no matter how gifted of a witch she was. He looked past them to see if their belongings were still in the hall behind them and found none. They did not carry wands or look in any way magical.
"Perhaps our wards have failed, and the Muggles have finally found us. Should I call the Oblivators?" It was a terrible thought to think that Hogwarts had finally been discovered after centuries of successful concealment. It would be all over the front page of the Prophet.
"The wards have never failed for thousands of years, they certainly have not today," Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled with amusement. He found the pair fascinating in their unceremonious dispositions. "Hogwarts helps all that are willing to learn, from all backgrounds." His tone sharpened just enough to deter any disagreement from Severus Snape. "And who do I have the pleasure to welcome to this fine institution?" One of the joys of being headmaster is that he was free from the responsibilities of teaching which gave him the ability to get to know the students in the school without them feeling apprehensive about talking to a teacher. He's learned a great many things from the many that wander through these halls and was always keen to play a game of gobstones when invited. You're never too old to learn , he believed.
"Jane Becker," the shorter answered with the first signs of a frown tugging at the corners of her heart shaped lips. Where the fuck are we?
"Shruthi Patel," the taller said with hesitation that led the others to believe she had forgotten her own name. She whispered to her friend, keeping a wary eye on the group of teachers in front of her. Jane had told her that she found some hole-in-the-wall store in the city that she wanted to show her.
"Jane and Shurthi," Dumbledore echoed, clapping his wrinkled hands once to regain attention of the worried girls. The attention quickly lost as Jane pulled out her phone from her front pocket. "You'll find that Muggle technology rarely works within these halls, much to the chagrin of our Muggle-born students."
"Okay," Jane answered ignoring the elder's warning and held down the power button with her index finger for longer than was usually necessary for turning on her phone. The phone refused to turn on when she knew that she had left her house that day with it fully charged. She looked to Shruthi to help, who found her own phone in a similar predicament. The only place they could recall their phones not working properly was when they went to school…
"The journey to Hogwarts can cause anxiety to many, especially those who are Muggle-born. Come, we can send a letter to your parents from my office that you've arrived safely," Dumbledore offered in that kind tone that he was known for. "Minerva, could you please acquire these ladies some dinner from the feast they have missed." Minerva McGonagall nodded and slowly walked down the impossibly long hallway towards the sounds of merriment. She wore her best dragon-hide boots for the welcome feast, the red pointed ones with a sensible heel and golden clasp. These were not her walking boots.
Dumbledore's office was located at the highest point of the entire castle, even higher than the Astronomy tower. A single spiral staircase was the only way to reach the headmaster's study, which was composed of hundreds of steps with a landing every fifty to give the climber a relief. As one reached a landing, they would be greeted by a human-sized gargoyle with the back of its head lit by a circular window. Each one was different with some greeting the visitors and others stoically standing guard armed with longswords gripped within their carved claws. Upon reaching the final landing, Jane was greeted with a circular door that had its frame an inch off the ground. As Dumbledore placed his foot on the landing, a doorknob appeared that allowed the group to enter the office.
The tower office had a rectangular floor plan that felt claustrophobic as each inch of available space was being taken up by something. Any free wall that wasn't occupied by a painting of the previous headmasters and headmistresses of the school was decorated with floor to ceiling bookshelves stuffed to the brim with ancient looking tomes, magical knick-knacks or piles of long, yellowed parchment. The floor was carpeted by mismatched house-coloured rugs and underneath was lustreless hardwood. The lack of cohesivity continued in the furniture available which looked like it was acquired over several different centuries. Spartan hand carved wooden stools stood next to a psychedelic seventies printed couch. Even the ceiling wasn't spared, lanterns hung from the rafters and a mobile that the planets of our solar system occupied the centre. A large birdcage was suspended near the headmaster's massive mahogany desk with a sleeping phoenix inside of it.
McGonagall placed two plates sliced beef lathered in rich gravy with a side of steamed peas and mashed potato after pushing aside a tottering tower of letters to the side, and Jane and Shruthi sat stiffly in the worn cushioned chairs before the headmaster of Hogwarts after telling the man how they came to be in Hogwarts. Dumbledore's glasses had slid down his nose, sitting at top of the bulbous tip as he looked over them. "Is dinner not to your liking?"
"We aren't hungry," Shruthi answered for both. "This almost feels like the real thing, like being in the mov–" Shruthi found her unable to continue speaking, and cleared her throat once. "Mov—" Movies . The word was caught at the back of her throat as she fell into a silent frustration.
"Spit it out girl. We do not have all night," Snape snapped as he came to stand towering over her. He relished in the way that the girl stiffened at his presence. He was waiting till tomorrow to elicit reactions like those from his pupils, but it seemed that he could begin now.
"It's quite alright, Severus. These two have had a long journey, fatigue is normal in their circumstances," Dumbledore reprimanded Snape with a genteel tone. He waved his hand over the two plates casting a Stasis Charm to keep the meals from growing cold. Shruthi yelped in surprise, grabbing a hold of Jane's hand. "You have not seen magic before?" Dumbledore asked merrily.
In the eighteen years that both girls have lived, not once have they seen anything remotely close to what was just performed in front of them. Shock was painted across both their features, as Jane reached out to touch the plate causing the invisible domed barrier to ripple in the pattern of her fingerprint. Dumbledore undid the Stasis Charm and instantly small swirls of steam rose from the plates, as the trickle of gravy on the meat that was frozen was now pooling around the potatoes. Both girls assessed this wasn't some work of any technology that they knew of and came to the gut-curdling conclusion that magic was real.
"You're really Albus Dumbledore," Shruthi faltered. What a stupid thing to say, she chided mentally, but her mouth worked faster than her brain at times. She saw from the corner of her eye, Snape place a hand against the ear of her chair, curling his long fingers around it.
Dumbledore's mouth twitched into a smirk, "That I am, perhaps I am not as well known in Australia." Shruthi wanted to say that he wasn't well known anywhere in the world that she knew of and was simply a beloved character in a children's fantasy book. "Have you had any prior magical schooling?"
They shook their head no in tandem. The only schooling they had completed was Muggle high school, only graduating a month ago with diploma in hand and awaiting their results for university admittance. Both intended to spend their final summer holiday as a well-deserved break after the years of primary and secondary education, determined to forget the stress of homework and exams with time.
"Not to worry, Hogwarts has brought you here for a reason and recognises you with magical ability. We shall get you both uniforms, stationery and a wand and you will join your peers in class tomorrow." Shruthi asked about tuition to distract herself from how she was going to explain this to her parents in a way that didn't sound insane to which Dumbledore waved off the concern.
"We can discuss that with your parents at a later date." Dumbledore pulled out a drawer hidden from his view and brought out a selection of wands. "These were left behind by forgetful students in the past and have not been reclaimed. Unfortunately, we do not have time for a trip to Diagon Alley with the term starting tomorrow." Two of them were being held together by Spellotape, and one had its varnish peeling off from where its previous owner had gripped onto it. Jane and Shruthi looked between each other and picked out the two with the least amount of damage. Shruthi waved hers subtly aimed at the rug beneath her feet, hoping for what Harry Potter experienced at Olivander's in the movies – a rush of red sparks – however nothing happened. She hid her disappointment, placing the wand across her lap as Snape took note of her actions.
Snape strode across the office and retrieved an ancient witch's hat that was mottled grey and fraying at the seams. "Ahh, yes, I suppose a sorting is in order. Apologies, this usually is done with a lot more fanfare and excitement," Dumbledore folded his wrinkled hands, one atop of the other on his desk. "Severus, if you could do the honours. Miss Becker first." Alphabetically, just like the books.
Jane scrunched up her face in disgust as the hat was placed on her shoulder length brown hair, the seam splitting into a wide smile. "Two more, eh," the hat complained. "Hmmm, incredible potential for such a late bloomer. Power like this should be best cultivated by – Slytherin!" She tore the hat off her head, not wanting to become the new home to lice gifted by thousands of students that walked these halls before her. Shruthi gulped, shrinking down into her seat in worry. She desired to be in the same house as her friend with every fibre of her being.
Think cunning thoughts, was the phrase that she kept on loop as she felt the hat descend on top of her own head. It barely grazed her black waves before exclaiming, "Hufflepuff!" With no explanation or commentary. Her disappointment was so visceral she missed Dumbledore congratulating Snape with another student at his house, only to be ripped from her thoughts as someone squeezed her shoulder.
"I can take her to her common room," McGonagall offered. The Hufflepuffs were located near the Gryffindor tower, and it was time that the feast wrapped up for the night. She could see between the two girls, Shruthi was the more nervous one. It's a good thing that she's not in Slytherin, she thought sadly, it's a cruel thing to sort a Muggle-born into Slytherin, Merlin help her.
"No, I'll take them together," Snape rejected. "Come." He did not wait for a response from Jane or Shruthi and was at the room in a few steps. Shruthi looked at McGonagall for permission and received a small nod, quickly catching up to Jane and Snape before the latter could reprimand her for being slow. They had both agreed that they should send a letter to their parents instead of having the headmaster do it (with no plans of sending a letter in their minds).
The air was colder in the basement levels of Hogwarts as the trio descended an ancient staircase. Snape walked at a pace that neither girl thought was comfortable even for a man of his stature, leaving no time to take in the surroundings. The architecture of the castle itself was plain, but no wall was left unadorned by artwork. Hogwarts itself was structured to be confusing, and Jane wondered if the students navigated it by memorising the statues that they passed. Shruthi on the other hand wished that Snape hadn't offered to take her to the common room since he decided to make the journey in complete silence. She thought if she was in Snape's shoes, she would at least give some explanation to the rooms and halls they were passing.
"Watch closely," Severus Snape stopped in front of the only wall so far that was left empty. His wand was in his right hand, and he quickly tapped a pattern on the bricks in front of him. Shruthi did her best to follow along with the rhythm and placement but quickly lost track as Snape obscured his movements with his back. The bricks folded outwards revealing a large oak door with the crest of Hufflepuff embossed in gold in the centre. Shruthi moved forward to enter, and Snape stopped her. "Repeat it."
She brought out her wand and waited for the bricks to realign themselves and block the door. Nervously, she imitated what she thought the professor had done, touching each brick with the tip of her wand. She lost confidence as she forgot if the left-most brick that was cracked from corner to corner came next or one in the centre that had faded to a white. Snape snorted, "Typical Hufflepuff stupidity. Your house will be with you shortly. Come Jane, I do not want to keep my Slytherins waiting."
Shruthi watched as her friend and the man she hated most from the books left her all alone in the basement. She wanted to shout at him and tell him that she wasn't stupid and if he had just taught her better, she could've gotten the password. She wondered why the Hufflepuffs couldn't have a simple security mechanism like the Gryffindor or Slytherin instead of an action-adventure movie puzzle. At least I'm not Ravenclaw, I would've been sitting out all night if it was a riddle.
The Slytherin area of the castle was also located in the basement levels of Hogwarts but deeper than Hufflepuff. The air was moisture-rich, as drips of water journeyed through the cracks of the wall and pooled onto the ground. Some even put out the wall torches which only reignited once completely dry, so long stretches of the corridors were dimly lit. Jane stuck to walking along the green and silver runner rugs that spanned the centre of the hallway to keep the soles of her shoes dry. She didn't know if she was imagining it or not, but she thought she could hear distant sounds of otherworldly singing from outside of the walls and walked a little closer to Severus Snape. Snape walked in a hurried pace, his robes billowing out behind him blending into the shadows all around them. Deeper and deeper they went into the castle until they reached a doorway trimmed with a huge stone basilisk that had half its body curled on the floor. Water dripped off its bared fangs, "Good evening, Master S-S-Snape," and the ornate walnut wood door swung inwards.
The oppressive feeling of the hallways outside continued into the common room that was lavishly furnished. Viridescent with ottomans were placed near the wrought-silver bookshelves for comfortable reading. Circular porthole style windows let in an eerie blueish light that was made worse by the central firepit that housed a flame circled by velvet couches. Upon the walls hung tapestries detailing the history of the house and the largest was a life song of the founder of the house, Salazar Slytherin – a cruel looking wizard with a neatly trimmed black beard and piercing grey eyes. Jane tripped as the common room was a step down from the hallway but regained her balance before she fell on the white marble floor in front of the gathered students.
Snape walked towards the firepit, as the prefects corralled the new first years towards him. "You are now the next generation of Slytherins. Some of you may have parents who have been in Slytherin, and for others you are the first of your family. Regardless of your connections to this house, you all possess the characteristics of this noble house – cunning, ambition, and a thirst for power. Within these walls, you are now one family upholding these values in unity. Outside of this room," Snape's hand brushed outwards towards the door to the common room.
"You will experience discrimination for being a Slytherin; you'll be bullied by your classmates, isolated from friendships, systematically disadvantaged when it comes to having your word be trusted. If you cannot bear these things alone, then stay together – Slytherins are stronger in number. A piece of advice for when you face these challenges, do not be goaded into whatever pettiness that your classmates are taunting you with. Engaging will only benefit them and there are only so many places I can be at one time. If another professor intercepts the situation, your punishment will be swift and hard." He paused to take a breath, an older prefect handing him a metal goblet filled with water and he took a sip before continuing.
"Either you will learn this by experience or by listening to the wisdom of your elders, do not trust the other houses to have your best interests at heart. If you need any help, come to a Slytherin. If you have issues with a fellow Slytherin, sort it out. Learning to negotiate and compromise is a skill that you should start developing from your age if you wish to work at high levels in the Ministry or elsewhere in the magical world. If for some reason, there cannot be a resolution, come to me. My office is always open – any time of the day or night."
He beckoned Jane to come stand next to him. "How old are you?" He whispered.
"Ei– Fourteen," Jane replied, her forehead wrinkled in frustration. She looked down at her hands to decipher if she really was fourteen again, but it yielded no results, she wasn't Dumbledore with his litany of wrinkles.
"Everyone, this is Jane Becker. Her arrival tonight has been delayed as she has travelled from Australia to be with us tonight. Daphne." Daphne Greengrass came forward at Snape's call and stood with her perfectly manicured hands folded in front of her. She inclined her head forward in demure reverence to her Head of House and curtsied causing her loose waist-length brown hair to fall over her right shoulder. She pinned the top half of her hair with a green ribbon, one that her mother put into her hair this morning before she rode the Hogwarts Express. She rose after a few seconds and blinked away the stars swimming in her vision. "She is a Muggle-born." A few small gasps that were covered by coughs echoed around the marble room earning the ire of Severus Snape. "She will be in your care." The crowd parted wider than it did before giving a large berth to both girls as Daphne led Jane to their shared dormitory.
A fifth four-poster bed was added to the room furthest away from the door. The spacious bed was identical to the other five – tall dark wood, trimmed with emerald-green drapes for privacy. Each column of wood was carved with winding snakes which if watched infinitely ascend in a slither. The tester was printed with the Slytherin crest in silver and at the foot of the bed was a plain school trunk. Daphne went down the line from the doorway and pointed at each bed announcing who it belonged to – Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, Tracy Davis, and herself. "You should change into your robes." The robes were neatly folded and placed on the top of the bedside table that was made with the same wood as the bed. Three drawers with silver engraved knobs, that pulled out easily and were currently empty. As Jane held robes out by their shoulders, the door closed with a click as Daphne left to wait outside. Plain black witch's robes that were trimmed with green that have been recently washed, smelling faintly of cinnamon. Jane put them down and checked around her bed for what to wear underneath them. After a few minutes of unfruitful searching, she checked her neighbour's double doored wardrobe to find five sets of the robes she was given inside of them but no other set of clothes.
"Are you done?" Daphne's voice called out.
"Just a minute," Jane called out with a slightly panicked tone. She put the robes on top of what she was currently wearing and found that she was completely covered from neck to just below the ankle. "Come in." She pulled her hair that was caught at the collar out and the ends rested against the hood. She was frustrated that she didn't even have time to check the mirror.
Daphne walked in and looked over Jane, "I understand that you're Muggle-born, but it's strange that you keep your Muggle clothes underneath your robes."
"Am I supposed to wear it like it's a dress then?" Jane pinched the fabric at her torso outwards. She supposed it did feel uncomfortable to be wearing multiple layers underneath the fabric, but she thought it would have a similar function to an art smock or apron.
"Have you not worn robes before?" Daphne asked incredulously.
"Uh… it's too hot for robes in Australia," Jane quickly lied, not wanting to start a conversation on why she didn't know these things. She could feel the disdain and judgement from the girl in front of her.
"Of course," Daphne accepted it with a sense of disbelief. "Well, in Hogwarts, we wear robes. A summer and winter set. With your summer ones you don't wear anything underneath them but your undergarments. And with your winter ones, your slip is acceptable if you do find yourself cold, though a cloak is preferrable. You should do something about your shoes."
Jane looked down to see her runners that she's had for years. "They aren't very befitting for a Slytherin. You should get some dragon-hide boots at the very least." Daphne looked down at the shoes again, "And get those robes tailored, they look like they are second-hand." Her pert nose crinkled in disgust at the possibility of that statement being true.
"Thanks for the advice," Jane retorted sarcastically, aiming to do neither.
"Are you Shruthi Patel?" A large woman called out the girl who was sitting cross-legged in front of the Hufflepuff entrance. She was being trailed by hundreds of students, all dressed in gold-trimmed robes. The woman's face looked weather-beaten, with a smattering of freckles over her nose and rosy cheeks and sported a wide friendly smile.
"Yes," Shruthi replied in a hurry, quickly getting to her feet. The woman stuck out her hand, the back of it criss-crossed with jagged scars and scratches. Shruthi shook her hand, finding it to be warm but strong as the woman squeezed in response.
"It's very nice to meet another one of mine. I'm Professor Sprout, the Herbology Professor at Hogwarts and Head of Hufflepuff house. Minerva told me that you arrived late. Not to worry, we'll get you settled in with the rest," Sprout opened the door and ushered the house into the common room. Like Snape, Sprout asked Shruthi about how old she was to place her with her classmates before directing her towards her dorm room.
The Hufflepuff common room had the entire ceiling completely open to the environment. A faint summer breeze wafted through the air and the beautiful star systems of the galaxy could be mapped by looking upwards. Several roaring fireplaces were dotted around the room, bringing light into the space as well as warmth. Shruthi saw groups of students flop down on the overstuffed bean bags littering the floor and others spread out on the faded yellow rugs beside them. The kitchens must have been located nearby as Shruthi took in the scent of warm sugar and savoury flavours. The parquet wooden floor was stained by centuries of dirt covered boots and spilled ink but nothing about the room felt out of place. A few paintings of famous Hufflepuffs welcomed the students back, and a single tapestry of Helga Hufflepuff was barely visible through the creeping vines that clung to the empty spaces in the room.
The dormitories were a rabbit-warren that Shruthi carefully navigated finding an oak door with a golden placard – Fourth Year Witch's Dormitory. The door had been etched by hundreds of names of the occupants throughout the years, some even writing over the others. She trailed her index finger over two that had been circled with a messily carved love heart, bringing a smile to her face. The door creaked loudly, and the conversation inside cut off.
Six pairs of eyes looked at Shruthi from three bunk beds that had been pushed together. Contents of their trunks empty before them, showing off the things that they have purchased for the new school year ranging from broomsticks to a magical protection amulet from a holiday to Norway. "Hi, who are you?" A young cheerful voice aimed at Shruthi.
Before Shruthi could reply, another girl with beach blonde hair parted into pigtails and interrupted, "Are you from Beauxbatons?"
"Uh, no," Shruthi replied, taking a step forward, and introduced herself formally.
The girl groaned in disappointment, as her redhead friend pulled on one of her pigtails, "Hannah, you know they're supposed to be coming next month." Shruthi frowned, students from French wizarding school are coming to Hogwarts? The only time that happened in the books was during the Triwizard Tournament... "Nice to meet you Shruthi, we were wondering why we suddenly had a single bed in the room. Lucky you." There was no hint of jealousy in her words, just light hearted humour.
The girls went around introducing themselves making Shruthi overwhelmed with remembering new names, but the girls didn't seem to mind. They pulled Shruthi's bed towards the huddle and sat her down to join their holiday discussions. She was barraged with questions about Australia and her life which she answered in half-truths and in an uninteresting manner, causing Hannah to probe deeper. Eventually, they tired themselves out and Shruthi laid down on her comfortable bed and stared at the ceiling as sleep evaded her.
The Great Hall was boisterous for breakfast ahead of the first day of classes. Jane was already there when Shruthi came along, pulled by the wrist by Hannah who was begging the girl to let her braid her hair. "It's so pretty!" Shruthi nodded absentmindedly along to Hannah, as she was scanning the room to see where Jane was. The Great Hall was a wide room filled with four long tables that spanned from the door to the raised platform for the teachers. Great floor to ceiling windows measured the room and gave light during breakfast and lunch. From the ceiling hung thousands of floating candles alongside four great tapestries illustrating the houses beneath them. The red and green table were the ones nearest to the walls and Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw sat in the middle.
Compared to Hufflepuff house, the Slytherins were far less numerous, and Jane was sitting near the end of the long table with the nearest Slytherin pretending she didn't exist. Before she could have a chance to ask her friend if she had slept well, she was tugged and pushed onto the bench and was squeezed between Hufflepuffs on either side. She stared at the spread before her that was quickly diminishing as hundreds of hands were reaching towards it and piling it onto their plates.
"You better be quick," The boy to her right shoulder advised, placing a piece of buttered toast from his plate onto hers. Shruthi's stomach gurgled, and she thanked him with embarrassment. Her options were the staples of an English breakfast, and it looked less than appetising. Mounds of sausages left pools of grease at the bottom of the pan, the piles of sagging golden brown toast drenched in butter, and bowls of artificially red sauce swimming with beans. Shruthi scooped some watery scrambled eggs onto her toast and ate in silence, listening into the chatter around her.
"We need to go now, or we'll be late," Susan came up behind Shruthi after some time.
"For what?" Shruthi asked, wiping her mouth clean with a napkin and getting to her feet.
"Potions." It was the first class on her schedule.
Severus Snape's Potions classroom was located near the beginning of the Slytherin dungeons saving students from walking deeper into the soggy bowels of Hogwarts. However, Snape had brought a slice of Slytherin into his classroom to make himself more at home while he was teaching the next disappointing generation of witches and wizards. His desk was cluttered with rolled up parchment paper which were translucent enough to see the essays stained with red ink from his scathing feedback. Behind him shelves affixed to the wall housed glass jars of all different shapes and sizes containing pickled potions ingredients that made unfortunate eye-contact with the students entering the classroom. They took their seats at the long rotten benches in the centre of the classroom, with Snape glaring at any that decided to continue their conversation from the hallway.
Shruthi opened the satchel that she found within her trunk this morning. It was packed with the meagre school supplies that she was provided – a single notebook, a few scrolls of parchment, a half-filled inkpot, and a lone quill. She found herself quietly disappointed that she was once again in a classroom, the bell this morning was jarring enough memory. Snape walked towards the clean blackboard near the centre of his classroom with his arms folded behind his back. "I think some revision is due after what I imagine was a long and unproductive break that you think you've earned. Get up," he snapped, and there was a clatter of movement as students raced to get to their feet. Shruthi's stool made a jarring sound as it was pushed out and she sighed as she began packing her things back into her satchel. "Leave it," Snape snapped at Shruthi.
"Last year, you were taught to brew a Wideye potion, that should do some good when half of you are still bleary-eyed," Snape walked back to his table, and before he reached it, he looked over to the frozen classroom. "What are you waiting for? Brew it." The brewing benches were pushed against the walls of the classroom, with each section of bench holding cupboards underneath that held potion instrumentation. Many of the Ravenclaws which shared this forty-minute period with the Hufflepuffs had brought their own set of cauldrons and scales, and quickly set out towards the shared ingredients cupboard to begin brewing. Shruthi found the instructions for the Wideye potion in her copy of Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger that the previous owner spent a considerable amount of time colouring in the bubbling cauldron and smoke pictured on the cover.
Luckily for her, the Wideye potion did not seem that complicated, she counted only four ingredients and the difficulty of the potion only seemed to come from that time needed to wait between the first and second phase of brewing. She entered the walk-in to gather what she needed, and her confidence melted away as none of the jars and tubs were labelled. There were several containers filled with teeth, all sharp and fang-like.
"Excuse me," A Ravenclaw boy called politely to Shruthi, causing her to step aside from the box. She watched carefully as the boy pilfered through the box and picked up six identical fangs. After he left, she stepped forward and picked out what she thought were the same fangs. She did the same for the rest of her ingredients, watching carefully what her classmates did and imitating the same. She learned to watch at least three since some students picked out very similar looking ingredients from different boxes or shelves.
Returning to her bench, she placed a pewter cauldron with a few dings on the base onto the burner and placed a stone mortar and pestle next to her raw ingredients. The instructions just said to add the snake fangs and the four measures of standard ingredient to the mortar without further instruction on how fine she needed to grind the fangs. She left her mortar for the moment and added the billywig stings to the cauldron and turned the burner, so the flame went from yellow to orange. She decided that the time taken for the stings to heat up will be sufficient to get the fangs crushed up. An awful smell emitted from her cauldron after a few minutes, and she looked over to see the bulbous thumb-sized ball tipped with an orange stinger turning charred black.
"What are you doing?" A harsh voice thundered behind her as Snape pushed her aside and turned off her cauldron. "Why is there no water in your cauldron?"
Shruthi looked over her instructions, at no point did they ask her to add water to the cauldron. "It doesn't say to add water."
" It doesn't say to add water ," Snape repeated her words in a way that made her feel small. It felt like the entire classroom had stilled to listen into this conversation, and Shruthi's skin warmed in embarrassment. She thought back to her experiences in chemistry class where each step was detailed and easy to follow. Even she was taught one of the most important skills of a scientist was writing coherent instructions so experiments can be documented and repeated. Perhaps, she should have realised that potions inherently were solutions and therefore Arsenius Jigger omitted adding water to the recipe.
"Fine, I'll redo it, how much water do I add?" Shruthi replied, crossing her arms in frustration. It wasn't fair, it was the fault of the recipe not her to know that she needed water.
"How much water do you think you need to add?" Snape smirked in satisfaction and his fingers knit together.
Shruthi's right hand that was folded against her chest motioned in confusion, "I don't know, half a litre?" She looked down at her bench and noticed that she needed to submit a vial of potion. "This much?" She pointed to the vial.
He snorted in derision, "You there," he pointed with a crooked finger to one of Shruthi's dorm mates that was working on the adjacent bench. "How much water do you add to a cauldron?"
"A-A cauldron's full, sir," she stammered, immediately looking down and busying herself so she wouldn't be called on again.
"Does that answer your question, Miss Patel?"
Shruthi tapped the side of her cauldron in case it was still warm from the fire; it was not. She picked it up by the handles on the side and looked back up at Snape. "Not really. How much is a cauldron's full?" She couldn't see any line marks on the outside of the pewter, nor feel for them. And it didn't make sense to make so much potion when all she needed as a vial of it. Shruthi thought that she could make a vial's worth by ratioing the ingredients.
Snape inhaled slowly, annoyed he replied. "Why don't you fill up the cauldron and then show me, and I'll tell you what a 'cauldron's full' is since you are so very incapable?"
"Fine," Shruthi replied before she swore at him. She looked down and her cauldron was missing the burnt billywig stings and she saw the back of Severus Snape as he stalked away to go bully some other student in the classroom. She wasn't sure if she would've preferred him breathing down her neck as she filled out what a 'cauldron's full' was.
Conveniently there was a brass tap on the wall in front of her bench and she placed the pot underneath it. "A cauldron's full," she muttered underneath her breath, turning the tap to the left side slowly. She looked either side of her bench and both her bench mates had two different volumes of water inside of their cauldron. She looked even further than them and it was the same there as well. It seemed that there was no universal measurement for a 'cauldron's full'. She waited until the water reached about half-way up the rounded walls of the cauldron and turned off the tap.
"Do you understand the definition of full?" Snape was beside her and she jolted in surprise. "That is not full. Keep going." She turned on the tap again to a slow trickle and waited for Snape to say when to stop. She knew that she needed some space in the cauldron to add her ingredients and stir so he couldn't literally mean full to the brim. Her worry grew as the water line crept to the lip of the pot and she looked at Snape who gave her no indication he was going to speak again. She turned off the tap in a hurry, twisting the handle tightly to the right. "Good," he gave her a crooked smile and she could smell his breakfast on his breath.
She took a step back, "Is this cauldron mine, can I keep this one?"
The smile faded and was replaced with a frown, "You may if you replace it." Shruthi thought about the offer, it wasn't as if she was going to stay in Hogwarts long enough to keep that promise, so she nodded. She picked up her quill and memorised where the water was on the inside of the cauldron before she crouched down to mark the spot on the outside of it.
Snape observed for a moment, "That is pewter, you will just wear the quill." She put the quill down and Snape picked up his wand and waved it over the pot. A circumferential jut was formed at the water line on both sides and before Shruthi could thank him, Snape had already left her bench.
A horrible brown sludge was what Shruthi Patel had by the end of the period. The potion was supposed to come out to a 'dreamy, navy blue' according to Jigger, but she couldn't figure out how hers was so far off the mark when she had thought she had done everything correctly. She was sure that Snape already knew this fact by the way he was saving her marking for last. She scooped some of her concoction into her vial and stoppered it with a cork before she could gag at the awful, necrotic smell emanating from it. The smell alone could certainly wake someone that had ingested the Draught of the Living Dead .
"What do we have here?" Snape jeered, picking up the vial between his index and forefinger and holding it up to the candlelight. "Troll."
"Do I not get any points for effort?" She huffed. Shruthi was pretty sure that a Troll was the lowest mark you could get in the Harry Potter books and it hurt her feelings that she was given it when she knew she was decently good at chemistry.
"And why should I award you points for effort when you clearly haven't tried? Are Hufflepuffs so used to participation trophies that you need one now to spare your feelings? Let me give you a piece of advice, Miss Patel, life gives out no points for effort. If I could mark you any lower than a troll, I would have done so," Snape handed Shruthi the vial back.
She wanted to argue that she did try, but she could sense that incessant whining would just annoy the man, "Okay, I agree, it's a crap potion. Can you please tell me what I did wrong so I can avoid that next time?"
"Don't you think you've wasted enough of my time today, Miss Patel? Here is another piece of advice from me, you have no future in a Potions classroom. You are disruptive and disorganised, you cannot follow simple written instructions, and you cannot even dress or speak respectfully in my classes," Snape looked down to the sparkly thongs that were peeking out from underneath Shruthi's robes that were brushing the floor. "Get out of my classroom." Shruthi swallowed thickly and bit down on her tongue to fight back tears as she did just that.
The Griffyndors were a rowdy bunch, still riding the last dregs of freedom from their holidays as they entered the Charms classroom that they shared with the Slytherins this morning. Again, Jane was seated at the edges of the classroom but still close enough to the Slytherins for an outsider to think they were friends. But they weren't, at least to her, any time that she did add anything to the conversation she either was ignored or someone would give her a dirty look for even speaking. If this is what they were doing to her face, she didn't want to know how they would speak about her when she wasn't there to hear it.
Professor Flitwick climbed onto his desk and called out to get the attention of the chattering students. It took a couple of times before they settled down so he could get on with today's lesson. While he was talking about what they should expect to learn this year, Jane saw the platinum blond hair boy elbow his friend and snigger, "Who would've thought Potter would make it back this year? I was sure between that werewolf and Black, one of them should've gotten him by now."
She looked at the black-haired boy sitting a few seats in front of Draco Malfoy. She could only see the back of him but even from here she could tell he was small, probably not much taller than she was. Jane never thought that the main character of those awful books would have been on the shorter side, but neither was Malfoy. Draco was spurred on by the laughter of his lackeys, and his comments grew bolder and louder each time until Harry turned around finally.
His piercing green eyes stared hard at Malfoy causing the blond to smirk in satisfaction. He knew that he had gotten underneath his rival's skin again and there was nothing he could do while Flitwick was addressing the class. Jane stared at the gaunt features of Harry; the sharp cheekbones were pulled tightly against his tanned skin. His lips were dried and scabbed over from where he had been picking at them nervously. His round wiry glasses had their centre held together by white tape, became askew as the girl sitting next to him tapped him on the shoulder and told him to pay attention.
The final bell rang and Shruthi made sure she was the first out of the door of the Transfiguration classroom. All her classes so far have been with the Ravenclaws, so she hadn't seen the only person she's been trying to see since breakfast all day. She ignored her Hufflepuff dorm mates calling out to her and asking her where she was running to as she raced down the hallway. She didn't know what class Jane would have this period, but if Jane was just as desperate as she was she would know to go to the Great Hall.
Shruthi rounded the corner after almost tripping on the uneven stones, she saw Jane waiting nervously by the doorframe. "Jay!" Shruthi slowed down and took gasping breaths in, ignoring the giggling from her friend. "How are you?"
"Awful," Jane smiled, helping her friend stand upright. "Did you sleep?" She noticed the large dark bags that framed her friend's eyes.
"Not a wink," Shruthi admitted, "I've been trying to get to you since last night. I tried the door of my room after my roommates fell asleep, but it was locked. And again, this morning at breakfast, but... we need to go now."
"You know this better than me. I could never get through the books," Jane whispered. "How do we get out of here?"
Shruthi had been thinking about this all day. All magical means of transportation were inaccessible to them, leaving only the normal ways of getting about. She knew that Hogsmeade village was mentioned in the books, and it seemed like it was near enough that the protagonists walked to-and-fro during their weekend outings. She was sure if they walked a little bit further than that they would soon be home. "I'm really hoping that we can just walk out of here."
Either Hogwarts never expected students to leave, or the pair had just gotten a lucky break since they made it to the crossroads that led them down the path to Hogsmeade. The sign indicated there was a town further than the magical village located two kilometres from Hogsmeade. They walked carefully, hiding if they heard any noises either behind them or up the path. They passed the time in hushed whispers of discussion on how they got here and what this would mean for them after they arrived back home.
"Do you really think we are magical?" Jane asked, twirling the wand between her hands. She hadn't needed to use it until her Potions lesson. Jane's own potion result ended up the same as Shruthi's, but at least Snape hadn't berated the same.
"I don't think so, I tried one of the spells that they did in the movie, Wingardium Leviosa, and nothing happened. I think Dumbledore is crazy to think that we aren't Muggles," Shruthi sighed in disappointment. It wouldn't be surprising if Dumbledore was indeed mad judging by his actions in the books and movies. "Did you get anything from yours?"
"Nope," Jane replied, mirroring her friend's disappointment. She had spent the entire day watching everyone else in the castle do impossible things with magic while she had to just stand there and stare. "What's a Mudblood?"
Shruthi grimaced, "Oh, that's a slur, it means that you have dirty blood. It's meant to be derogatory to people with parents who aren't magical. Draco called Hermione that in the books and movies."
"Right, well, I just heard a few of the Slytherins call me that," Jane whispered back, kicking a stone down the dirt path. Shruthi grasped her friend's hand as an act of understanding. She wanted to tell Jane that she spent the moments before her sorting wishing to be with her because she knew that the Slytherins wouldn't be kind to her. But what good would telling her now do to her, it wasn't as if it would undo whatever she's been dealing with since last night.
"We'll be home soon," Shruthi squeezed Jane's hand, focusing on the future. She nodded to her friend before taking off her robe and stuffing it into her faded leather satchel that she had the front facing towards her body so the Hogwarts crest could be hidden. Jane followed doing the same, before taking out her phone and gripping it in her right hand.
Their phones only turned on when they reached the outskirts of the Muggle town that they entered. The signpost by Hogwarts only labelled it as 'Nearest Muggle settlement' so the name was unknown to them. Jane looked down at her phone which was on ninety-seven percent and had the date in square letters, September 2 nd , 2019 . "We've gone back in time."
Shruthi looked around the town, it didn't look like it was out of the nineties, "It looks modern enough, maybe a few buildings are dated." It looked like the pub or whatever central gathering place of the town had still retained most of its original brick façade as they walked along the cobbled footpath, but the roads were paved with bright white dividing lane lines. It looks like something out of a postcard or those travel TV shows, she mused. A sudden piercing pain of homesickness overwhelmed her, those were the types of shows her parents like to wind down to in the evening.
"No, I mean we are in September. It was November yesterday," Jane showed Shruthi the screen, Jane noted the notifications that were flooding her phone screen. Social media notifications, some emails, and text messages from her parents and friends.
"So, we've gone back a few months but we're fourteen," Shruthi surmised. "Do you remember being fourteen?"
"It's not that different from being eighteen," Jane joked, "I'm missing my grey hair, but I'm sure after this call it will be back." Shruthi gave Jane a grimaced smile before excusing herself to call her own parents. The loitered just outside the local shopping centre, trying to look nonchalant to the people walking by. Their conversations with their parents were brief and Jane was the first one to ask, "Do your parents think you're going to uni here?"
"I was just about to ask you, yes, University of Edinburgh for biomedical sciences. They were angry that I didn't call last night to update them on moving there." Shruthi answered in confusion. Her parents were worried that they sent their only child all the way across the world to go to university. It seemed that the fully funded scholarship and the future opportunity to go on to study medicine was more than enough to alleviate a few of their worries. They just made her promise to call them every night or they'll be booking the next flight there to make sure in person.
"Biology," Jane added. "I told them about Hogwarts, and they just laughed it off and told me to go enjoy myself." Jane looked back towards the direction of Hogwarts and sighed. "I don't think they'll believe me until I prove it to them, a photo or video. Are you sure that your wand is useless?"
"Yes, I am… I'm not going back home. I can't. My parents told me that they were ecstatic with all this," Shruthi's voice cracked a little in passion. She swallowed before continuing, "They've already told the rest of my family, it's all over the family WhatsApp. I can't tell them now. I'll just stick it out at Hogwarts, and help you get out."
"What? You can't be serious; you want to keep lying to your parents in the hopes of what–that you secretly are a witch? This will only get worse if you don't tell them now," Jane's voice raised in volume causing Shruthi to pull her into a nearby alleyway next to an overflowing rubbish bin. Jane's face was still bewildered even with the scent of decomposing food right next to her.
"My parents are going to react the same as yours," Shruthi shot back, "There's nothing we can do right now, there's no point disappointing them prematurely. We'll know soon enough if we are magical and imagine if we were!" Shruthi was sure that if she was a witch, eventually her parents would think of that more highly than becoming a doctor. The freedom that it would allow her was tantalising, her parents wouldn't have to worry about her safety or her future ever again. "I promise I'll help you get that photo. I'm sure we'll think of something."
Jane shook her head no and grasped Shruthi firmly by the shoulder, "As soon as we get that photo, we are both leaving. This is crazy, Shu–"
"Just believe for a moment, Jane. There must be some reason why we were brought here, and yes, it's crazy that it's literally Hogwarts. But what if we were witches and we just didn't know about it until yesterday?" Shurthi said with a giddiness which was not shared by Jane.
"Learn! Remember what you told me at graduation? 'I never want to spend another day in this place again.' I thought we agreed on taking a break from learning." Jane took a deep breath in and gagged at the odour nearby and walked back onto the main street. "Okay, we stay till the Christmas break. By then we'll know what we got into at home," she spoke about her pending applications for university back in Australia which are released just before Christmas (and depending on which, can either be a good or bad present).
"We'll tell our parents that we weren't cut out for uni here and we want to study at home." Shruthi nodded furiously in agreement. She didn't have to worry her parents and she had four months to figure out if staying at Hogwarts was necessary. "I really don't like lying to my parents, but you're right, stuff like this doesn't happen so we might as well stay in this shithole until they figure out there's nothing special about us. But I still want that photo. Just in case," Jane gave Shruthi a wry smile, which wavered causing Shruthi to begin to ask her what's wrong. The taller girl felt a harsh tug on the shoulder of her flannel, and she was about to give the interrupter a piece of her mind before she saw who it was.
"What do we have here?" Snape looked down upon the two fourteen-year-old girls he spent his afternoon tracking down. "Two runaways?" He gave both girls a chilling smile as he held Shruthi by the scruff of her neck. It wasn't an easy smile to decipher if he knew what the girls were speaking about just before he arrived, and Jane didn't know her Head of House well enough to read it. "I don't know what Muggle filth you two came from, but this is a school we are running here. I ought to expel you." He drank in the way Shruthi's brown eyes faded from her childish anger to that terrified look he relished in bringing out in people.
"We were just about to return," Jane interjected, trying to draw his attention from her friend.
"Is that so? I find that very hard to believe," Snape continued to bore down onto Shruthi and noticed the quick look that she gave her friend. He was confused that it wasn't one of panic but rather determination. A second later, the girl began struggling in his grip, trying to tear his fingers from her clothes. Cries of 'let me go' and growls just caused his hand to tighten as he knew he had her trapped. His uncut nails dug into her skin, causing her to cry out in pain, a sound that he wanted to continue hearing. "Stop that," he said in a bored tone trying to aggravate her further, punctuated with a sharp slap across her face. Her plastic glasses flew off her face and landed on the ground beneath them and Snape was tempted to crush them.
"Did you get it?" She asked her friend as she wiped her reactionary tears of pain from her face. Snape's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, as he turned to see Jane hold some sort of black box between her two hands pointed directly at them.
"Yup," Jane replied, tugging her friend away from him and standing slightly in front of her to shield her from further abuse. She turned the phone to play back the video of Snape slapping Shruthi across the face. Shruthi's right cheek was stung with pain, but she gave Snape a big grin.
"Give me that," Snape shouted, and Jane quickly pocketed the device and held her hands out in surrender. "What do you think you will do with that? The Headmaster would not care, and neither will anyone else at Hogwarts."
"Yes, but the Muggles will, sir . I'm sure the police will love to investigate why you decided to physically assault a minor," Shruthi declared with smugness. "I think I might go talk to them now," she pointed behind him to the local police station.
"You dare threaten your Professor, girl?" Snape snarled, shuffling forward to unsettle her again with his presence, but she wasn't backing down. "You don't think I can just wipe their memories and destroy your little recording device?"
"It's illegal to use magic against Muggles, Jane and I will attest to that in front of the Wizengamot. Even Dumbledore couldn't help you from that," Snape paused and looked at her strangely as he took in her words.
"Headmaster Dumbledore," he corrected perfunctorily as his fingers rubbed his chin in thought, the edges of his fingers rubbed at his right cheek. Shruthi instinctively rubbed at her own thinking she had something on her face and winced as she was reminded of her injury. He simply smiled at her reaction and continued, "What do you want?"
"You will help us get settled," Shruthi commanded as Snape undid the Muffliato Charm he did to hide himself and the girls.
The girls led Severus Snape into the Muggle supermarket which was much smaller than any shop in Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley, but they seemed content. Neat lines of shelves stood on the linoleum floor highlighted by the fluorescent white lights. It had been a very long time since he'd entered any Muggle establishment for necessities, preferring to borrow Lucius Malfoy's army of house elves instead. He felt out of place in his wizarding robes but the cashier who was busy reading the local newspaper with his dirty bare feet propped up against the counter did not care. He watched Hufflepuff and Slytherin point to the signs hanging from the ceiling and followed them into an aisle labelled 'Personal Care'.
Endless containers of soaps, shampoos, conditioners, and other toiletries sat nicely stocked on the shelves reminding him of his own shelves of potions. Each trying to outdo the neighbour with their promises of efficient cleanliness or the enticing scents. He watched Shruthi whine about her brand not being stocked and the way her fingers ran through her messy black plait. Her almond eyes judged each bottle intently and stopped when her friend handed one that had a shiny red sticker with the word 'CLEARANCE' printed boldly on it.
"Which one can we get?" Shruthi held both bottles out for inspection, the 2-in-1 mint scented unisex shampoo and conditioner was the one on offer and the other was some floral shampoo clearly aimed towards women. Snape was taken aback that she was asking for his opinion when he couldn't remember the last time he had washed his own hair.
"I don't care, stop wasting my time," He snapped at her, and watched her face fall as she placed back the pink and white bottle. His nails bit into his hidden palm as he did nothing to stop them as the girls placed two grey bottles into the green plastic basket they were sharing. The basket swung on Jane's left forearm as the girls continued to pick out either the cheapest option or the ones on sale when it came to the rest of the toiletries. Snape noticed the basket filled with items that neither girl really wanted. He memorised the way that Jane's blue eyes lingered on pressurised can of some sort of spray that promised the wearer that they'd smell like a floral bouquet, and Shruthi's on a sparkly pink toothbrush that matched her footwear.
He peered at the contents of the basket; it was filled with ugly containers pasted with those red stickers. Rectangular boring grey containers, and pragmatic with their scents of mint. Mint shampoo, peppermint toothpaste, minty green mouthwash… Mint was always a practical scent, he knew quite a few of his Slytherin's favoured it, but he knew at heart it was a poor man's smell. The daintier scents of roses or lavender, the ones that would fade after a couple of hours, but mint lingered on one's skin. It lingered because it had to, its job was to convince the lavenders and roses that it was just as clean.
He cut his own hair whenever he thought it grew too long with a blunt scalpel from his classroom. He dressed in the same black robes he's had since he was eighteen. His dragon-hide boots were a Christmas gift from Narcissa when his old ones had their sole worn so thin that he could feel the dirt beneath his feet as he walked. He'd only remember to brush his teeth when the tea stains on his teeth turned brown like they were cavities. And for the past couple of years, his godson had been reminding him to bathe every week by rudely telling him he smelled. Even the scent of mint couldn't overpower the smell of poverty that came from his youth.
He found the pair with their backs turned away from him blocking the contents of the shelves from his sight and talking in hushed whispers. They stopped once he stood before them, hiding away something behind their backs. The shelf behind them was stocked with menstrual pads, and just like the shampoos they came in all different shapes and sizes. Both girls looked almost ashamed of it even though he knew they were at an age which was a normal part of their lives. "Put that back, there's no need to waste my money with that when there are potions to deal with your cycles." In all his years of teaching, he'd never had a Muggle-born witch in his house, he'd almost forgotten what they'd be accustomed to.
He half listened to their conversation about how they were going to use all the things they had bought today. The other half was spent enjoying the late afternoon summer breeze that was weaving through the forest leaves at the edges of the forest. Shruthi told her friend that the Hufflepuff dormitories had communal bathrooms and showers which she felt too shy to use. Snape had never taken much of an interest in the Hufflepuffs in general, he thought of them as painfully average and forgettable. Though he could empathise with her apprehension to shower in front of others.
It was fast approaching dinner by the time they had walked all the way back to Hogwarts. Snape rubbed his temples in frustration as he knew that he wasted his entire afternoon chasing after two insolent witches that were happily walking in front of him armed with semi-translucent plastic bags. Consequently, he would be marking the piles of holiday homework he assigned late into the night. Surely, some other professor also heard the thwacking noises from the Hufflepuff's slippers running across the hall. Some other should have watched as the two girls talked about leaving the school in front of the doors of the Great Hall. Another should have seen the two simply walk out of the school since it was built for wizards and witches, not Muggle thought processes. As always, it all fell onto the shoulders of Severus Snape, though he always gave credit to the school caretaker, Argus Filch and his kneazle to help keep the rules at Hogwarts.
The gravel of the winding pathway to the front gate crunched beneath his boots as he saw the afternoon light pierce through the bags to show a pair of black school shoes that Shruthi snuck into the basket when she thought that he wasn't looking. He and Jane were about to split away from the other girl when she slipped something into his hands, "Thank you." He blinked once at the sight of a slightly melted wrapped Muggle chocolate sitting in his calloused palm.
"When did you get this?" He closed his fist carefully so he wouldn't squish the sweet any further. The last time he had a chocolate was when the Malfoys had invited him to spend Christmas at their manor in Wiltshire. Narcissa always sends him a handmade invitation yearly with the photograph taken at the hearth from the previous years. Unlike Minerva and Albus who like to display personality in their offices, he keeps the twenty years' worth of photographs in a small cardboard box underneath his bed.
"I stole it while you were paying," She giggled before thwacking down the hall. She missed the way he raised his eyebrow at the audacity of the Hufflepuff, she would not have the last word.
"Miss Patel," Snape called, and she looked over her shoulder. "I believe you still owe me a cauldron. I will see you in detention after dinner." He didn't want to waste any more time with these two, but he knew if he didn't keep an eye on the pair, no one else at Hogwarts would.