Potions
First week at Hogwarts
It was impossible not to get lost in Hogwarts. It was massive. There were at least a hundred and fifty staircases in the castle, which were always moving. For Charles' luck, Sir Nicholas appeared while he was looking for Huffelpuff’s common room, he was fond to show new Gryffinors in the correct direction. He was upset about Ella ending up in another house. It was not like it was going to make them grow apart.
Thanks to the ghost, Charles arrived to his sister’s house room in only forty minutes, which he considered a short time considering how big the school was. It was really early in the morning, but it was the only way to go and look for Harry and Ron for breakfast.
“Morning.”
“Why did you come all the way down here when we need to go to your tower again?”
“Uh.. I actually don't know,” said Charles. He doubted for a moment about telling her about his dream. “Let’s go before they wake up.”
“Right.”
Going up through the stairs he glanced at his sister. She didn’t got the chance to go up, so she was looking at every portrait, amazed with every detail in the walls. He was too, of course. He was too sleepy last night to even notice everything around them.
Charles entered the room leaving Ella outside, they weren’t sure if she could enter, considering she was in another house. Luckily, they were just about to leave and didn’t have to wait for his friends. They went out to find Ella waiting for them. They went down, drying to avoid Argus Filch, which they failed.
They managed to get on the wrong side of him right on the first monday. Filch found them trying to force their way through a door which unfortunately turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor. Of course, he wouldn’t believe they were lost. Although it would be very reasonable of them to be so. Filch was convinced that the four of them were trying to break in on purpose and was threatening to lock them in the dungeons when they were rescued by Professor Quirrel, who was passing by.
When he finally managed to find each lesson he had to study all sorts of things. Not just spells. On the one hand they studied the night skies through telescopes every Wednesday at midnight and learnt the names of different stars, constellations and movements of the planets. Then, three times a week out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, quite interesting for Charles' opinion. Not exciting, but interesting. They had Herbology with a little witch, Professor Sprout, and they learnt how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi and found out what they were used to.
Then there was History of Magic, taught by Professor Binns, a ghost. He knew from the very beginning it was going to be a boring class, it didn’t meant he would not make an effort to pass with the highest mark possible. That was something he thought ages ago before starting school. He would study to be the best.
Charms was, for now, his favourite subject. It was taught by a tiny professor called Flitwick, He had to stand on a pile of books to look over his desk. When he called Charles’ name when he took the register, Professor Flirwick glanced at Charles, curiously. He did the same when he called Harry’s name.
Strict and clever, Professor McGonagall was the Transfiguration professor. He gave a talking-to the moment they had 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 baek 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 Charles and Hermione had made any difference to her match; Professor McGonagall showed the class how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave them both a rare smile. He didn’t know how to feel exactly about it. He gave Hermione a slight grin. Which she replied equally.
The class he, and probably everyone was looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrel’s classes turned out to be a bit of a joke. Really disappointing for his opinion. 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 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 the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went.
The first week passed fast. It was Friday sooner than they expected. And it was an important day for him and Ron and Harry. They were able to find their way to the Great Hall without getting lost once on their way to breakfast.
“What have we got today?” Harry asked while pouring sugar on his porridge.
“Double Potions with the Slytherins,” said Ron. Charles groaned. “Snape’s Head of the Slytherin house. They say he always favours them. We’ll be able to see if it’s true.”
“It probably is. Ugh and we have with Slytherin.”
“Wish McGonagall favoured us,” Harry said.
She was the Head of Gryffindor’s house, but that didn’t stop her of giving them a pile of homework the day before.
Ella was friends with Hermione Granger by now. She was sitting with her a couple of meters from them. She also talked a lot with Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot, but didn’t seemed as close as Hermione. Charles found her a bit annoying at first, but it was not that bad. It looked like she was like him. Just a bit more talkative.
The post then arrived, and for the first time, he got a letter that was not from his parents. Lynx, his owl, dropped it right on his lap. He saw it’s back to see who send it. Moony.
Dear Charles,
I’m really proud of you starting Hogwarts. Sorry I couldn’t reach out before or go to the station to say goodbye. You know I’m not really in the state of going to any magical places other than your house.
Hope you had an amazing first week, I’ll see if I can send you a little present next month for starting school. Talked to your dad the other day, glad you’re having an amazing first week. Such a shame you and Ella ended up in different houses, but don’t let that make you grow apart, ever.
I bought some records the other day I think you might like. Bowie or Queen?
My best wishes,
Your uncle Moony.
He smiled fondly to the letter Moony sent. He quickly grabbed his quill and thought of an answer.
Uncle Moony,
Thank you really. And don’t worry, I know it’s not easy for you and I really don’t mind. I had my own friends and of course, my sister.
Indeed I did! McGonagall already left us tons of homework and we’ll now have potions with Professor Snape together with the Slytherins. Besides that it’s been great! Today was the first day Ron, Harry and I were able to come to breakfast without getting lost. I think it’s quite an achievement.
I hope we can see each other soon, uncle Moony. It’s been ages since we've met. I guess you wrote Ella too. We both miss you a lot. And don’t worry for us, different houses won’t separate us. I don't think anything can.
Write soon!
Charles Miller.
PD; I'm missing Hot Space from Queen and Early On from Bowie.
He was later grateful Uncle Moony wrote him, potions turned out to be the worst thing ever. Not because potions were bad, there was another problem.
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, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the register, and like Flitwick, he paused at his and Harry’s name. Luckily for Charles, he just gave him a glance that seemed to be full of hate. His friend was not so lucky.
“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 black as ink, unpleasant to look at. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels.
“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 just 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. He, Harry and Ron exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione Granger was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn’t a dunderhead. So was he, of course. But he wouldn't show that to Snape, either to his classmates.
“Potter!” said Snape suddenly. “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”
Harry glanced at them, Ron looked as stumped as he was. Charles didn’t know how to tell him the answer was that “they make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death” without Snape noticing. Hermione’s hand had shot into the air.
“I don't know, sir.” Harry said.
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?”
Is a stone taken from the stomach, he thought, wondering how to help Harry.
Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Harry clearly didn’t have the faintest idea what a bezoar was. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, who were shaking with laughter. He glared at them, annoyed.
“I don’t know, sir.”
“Thought you wouldn’t open a book before coming, eh, Potter?”
Harry was still looking straight into those cold eyes. 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 towards the dungeon ceiling.
The same Harry, they are the same thing.
“I don’t know,” said Harry quietly. “I think Hermione does, though, why don’t you try her?”
Charles did everything he could to contain his laughter. Few people couldn't and 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 were 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 Charles, Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.
Their potions were not as bad, of course it had mistakes, but Charles was able to remember lots of things about the potion he asked for. Neither of his friends remember as much.
“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.”
How could it be Harry's fault at all? Charles thought. It was so unfair. He clearly hated Harry for some reason, Charles was even closer to Neville and saw how he was about to add the quills, he could've told him, but Snape didn’t care at all. Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Ron kicked him behind their cauldron.
“Don’t push it,” he muttered. “I’ve heard Snape can turn very nasty.”
“Isn’t he already?” muttered Charles
As they climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, his black-haired friend was clearly upset because of losing two points for Gryffindor from Snape.
“Don't think much about it mate, Snape is always favouring Slytherin, we couldn’t expect much”
“Yeah, cheer up,” said Ron. “Snape’s always taking points off Fred and George. Can we come and meet Hagrid with you?”
“Yeah, sure. I think he'll like to meet you both.”
Early on the day, Harry had received a letter from Hagrid to meet him that evening and that was exactly what they needed to cheer them up after that horrendous class with their Potions professor.
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 a 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.
Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked. He was full of warmth. His eyes were as black as Snape’s, but it was much more pleasant to look at. They transmitted kindness.
‘This is Charles,’ his friend said, pointing at him. “And this is Ron.” Harry told Hagrid who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes on to a plate.
“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 almost broke their teeth, but they pretended to be enjoying them as they told Hagrid all about their first lessons. Fang rested his head on Harry’s knee and drooled all over his robes.
The boys 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 some time. 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.”
Mrs Norris was Filch's cat. , a scrawny, dust-coloured 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 the Weasley twins) 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.
They told Hagrid about Snape’s lesson. Hagrid, like him and Ron, 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?”
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.”
While Ron told Hagrid all about Charlie’s work with dragons, Harry picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cosy. It was a cutting from the Daily Prophet.
GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST
Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of dark wizards or witches unknown.
Gringotts’ goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day.
“But we’re not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what’s good for you,” said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon.
“Hagrid!” said Harry. “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. Hagrid was hiding something, he obviously knew something that they didn’t, and got Harry involved in it.
As the boys walked back to the castle for dinner, their pockets weighed down with rock cakes they’d been too polite to refuse. He remembered that he needed to talk to Ella. But as she was probably going to seat with Hermione Granger again, he didn’t fancy talking about his weird dream that caused him actual pain in front of her. They got no time alone together, though they shared Herbology class and Astronomy.
Were things going to be like this all year? Charles wondered when would he have time alone with his sister. He missed her, they were never that much time apart. He barely saw her through the first week. He wondered if he would need to be friends with Hermione Granger to share time with Ella. It was a weeknd the next day, maybe he could ask her to spend time with him, Ron and Harry to later on have some time alone in order to tell her about the dream he had the first night at Hogwarts. It couldn’t be much of a deal, but he felt like it meant something, and there was nothing that his sister didn’t know about him. Neither was anything that Charles didn’t know about Ella.