There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts.
Wide ones, sweeping ones; narrow ones, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other, and Cassie was positive the coats of armour could walk.
The ghosts didn't help, either. It was always a nasty shock when one of them glided suddenly through a door you were trying to open. Nearly Headless Nick was always happy to point new Gryffindors in the right direction, but Peeves the Poltergeist was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase if you met him when you were late for class. He would drop wastepaper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!"
Even worse than Peeves, if that was possible, was the caretaker, Argus Filch. Cassie, Harry and Ron managed to get on the wrong side of him on their very first morning. Filch found them trying to force their way through a door that unluckily turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor. He wouldn't believe they were lost, was sure they were trying to break into it on purpose, and was threatening to lock them in the dungeons when they were rescued by Professor Quirrell, who was passing.
Filch owned a cat called Mrs. Norris, a scrawny, dust-colored creature with bulging, lamp-like eyes just like Filch's. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put just one toe out of line, and she'd whisk off for Filch, who'd appear, wheezing, two seconds later. Filch knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone (except perhaps Fred and George) and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. The students all hated him, and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mrs. Norris a good kick.
And then, once you had managed to find them, there were the classes themselves. There was a lot more to magic, as Cassie quickly found out, than waving your wand, saying abracadabra and making a rabbit pop out of a top hat.
They had to study the night skies through their telescopes every Wednesday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. Four times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout, where they learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi, and found out what they were used for. Easily the most boring class was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up the next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates, and got Emetic the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up.
Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first class he took the register, and when he reached Harry's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight.
Professor McGonagall's class was one Cassie had been looking forward to. Cassie had made the mistake of mentioning that to Hermione in passing and Hermione had given an excited squeak and gone on a happy rant as to why she was looking forward to Transfiguration as well and began giving Cassie several heavy books. Cassie had gotten annoyed as she was late to meeting Harry and Ron, so she had snapped at Hermione "I couldn't care less about reading your stupid books Hermione, so just leave me alone." and stormed out. Cassie felt embarrassed about the way she acted later, so she went to apologise, but couldn't find Hermione anywhere so Cassie left her last Chocolate Frog on Hermione's pillow and hoped it was enough.
Professor Mcgonagall gave them a talking-to the moment they sat down in her first class,
"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."
Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realized they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione had made any difference to her match; Professor McGonagall showed the class how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave Hermione a rare smile.
The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and Fred and George insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went.
Friday was an important day for Harry, Cassie and Ron. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once.
"What have we got today?" Harry asked as he poured sugar on his porridge.
"Double Potions with the Slytherins," said Ron. "Snape's Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favours them, we'll be able to see if it's true."
"Wish McGonagall favoured us," said Cassie, spreading lemon curd onto her toast.
Just then, the mail arrived. Cassie had gotten used to this by now, but it had given her a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners, and dropping letters and packages onto their laps.
This morning, a beautiful snowy owl with black specks on its wings, fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note onto Harry's plate. It said, in a very untidy scrawl:
Dear Harry,
I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three?
I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig.
Hagrid
Harry borrowed Cassie's quill, and scribbled,
Yes, please, see you later
On the back of the note, and sent his owl, Hedwig, off again.
Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.
Snape started the class by taking the register, he paused at Cassie's name and peered over the top of his parchment at her. Cassie raised her eyebrows at him, she wasn't going to be intimidated by someone who looked like they hadn't washed their hair in several weeks. Snape didn't say anything, he just carried on with the register, however his eyes lingered on Cassie for a little bit longer than she was comfortable with. Snape paused again, this time at Harry's name.
"Ah, Yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new….celebrity."
Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were cold and black and contained no emotion.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he began.
He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word, like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort.
"As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses...I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death,if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
More silence followed this little speech. Cassie, Harry and Ron all exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead.
"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Harry glanced round at Ron and Cassie, but they both shrugged their shoulders. Cassie had no ideas what Snape was going on about. That was probably because her potions book was still sitting unopened in her trunk upstairs. However, Hermione's hand shot in the air.
"I don't know, sir," said Harry.
Snape's lips curled into a sneer.
"Tut, tut.. fame clearly isn't everything."
He ignored Hermione's hand.
"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat,
"I don't know, sir."
"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?"
Snape was still ignoring Hermione's quivering hand.
"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.
"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"
Most of the Gryffindors laughed. Snape, however, was not pleased.
"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"
There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."
Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticising almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.
"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"
Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.
"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.
"You, Potter, why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."
This was so unfair that Cassie opened her mouth to tell Snape exactly what she thought of him and his teaching methods but Ron kicked her under the table.
"Don't," he muttered, "I've heard Snape can turn very nasty."
As they climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, Ron and Cassie were trying to cheer Harry up, who was in very low spirits.
"Snape's a git," said Cassie firmly, "I don't think he likes anyone except Malfoy, probably because he's a git an' all."
Ron laughed at that and even Harry managed a weak smile.
"Snape's always taking points off Fred and George." said Ron "Can we come and meet Hagrid with you?"
Finally, Harry smiled properly and nodded.
So, at five to three they left the castle and made their way across the grounds. Hagrid lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the forbidden forest. A crossbow and a pair of galoshes were outside the front door.
When Harry knocked, they heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Then Hagrid's voice rang out, saying,
"Back, Fang, back."
Hagrid's big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open.
"Hang on," he said. "Back, Fang."
He let them in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound.
There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.
"Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at Ron and started licking his ears.
"This is Cassie." said Harry, gesturing towards Cassie
" 'Lo Cassie." replied Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes onto a plate.
"And this is Ron," Harry told Hagrid, gesturing towards Ron.
"Another Weasley, eh?" said Hagrid, glancing at Ron's freckles. "I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest."
The rock cakes were shapeless lumps with raisins that almost broke their teeth, but the three of them pretended to be enjoying them as they told Hagrid all about their first lessons.
Harry, Cassie and Ron were delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch "that old git."
"An' as fer that cat, Mrs. Norris, I'd like ter introduce her to Fang sometime. D'yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can't get rid of her, Filch puts her up to it."
Harry told Hagrid about Snape's lesson. Hagrid, like Ron and Cassie, told Harry not to worry about it, that Snape liked hardly any of the students.
"But he seemed to really hate me."
"Rubbish!" said Hagrid. "Why should he?"
Yet Cassie couldn't help thinking that Hagrid didn't quite meet Harry's eyes when he said that.
"How's yer brother Charlie?" Hagrid asked Ron. "I liked him a lot - great with animals."
Cassie listened as Ron told Hagrid about his work with dragons, it was fascinating. Cassie definitely wanted to meet a dragon one day.
"Hagrid!" said Harry suddenly, "that Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might've been happening while we were there!"
There was no doubt about it, Hagrid definitely didn't meet Harry's eyes this time. He grunted and offered him another rock cake.
An hour later, Cassie, Harry and Ron walked back to the castle for dinner, their pockets weighed down with rock cakes they'd been too polite to refuse. Harry's head was filled with thoughts of break ins and Professor Snape, Cassie's head was filled with thoughts of dragons and goblins and Ron's head was filled with thoughts of roasted potatoes and lamb chops.