The Professors and Masters
The whispers about the "absence" of Harry Potter flew around the grounds like wildfire. Harry wish they hadn't because he was trying to find the classrooms. His Uncle's advice to ask the upper years was starting to make sense now.
There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, 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, which Harry wouldn't have found too horrible if they occasionally helped him out with direction.
The ghost were more helpful than the portiets as long as Harry avoided Peeves. The poltergeist was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase if you met him when you were late for class. Acording to Hermoine and Bku, 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!".
But once you had managed to find them, there were the lessons themselves that were just the reason Harry chose Hogwarts over the other five schools he had gotten letters from.
They got 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. Three 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 learnt how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi and found out what they were used for.
As first years, they got to work with Professor Bagshot, who happened to be the author of their History book for four out of their five classes per week. In their first class, they were surprised to find the Grey Lady floating where Professor Bagshot usually sat. She explained that for the year they would be getting a recollection of events from all the ghosts in the castle.
Harry quite liked that effect. Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher and Hermoine's head of house, 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 lesson, he quickly explained that Charms was a wizard's most versatile type of spell.
Professor McGonagall was again different. Harry had been quite right to think she wasn’t a teacher to cross. Strict and clever, she gave them 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 back again. They were all very impressed and couldn’t wait to get started, but soon realised they weren’t going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. After making 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 Harry, Hermoine, Bkue, Rose, Draco and a few others from Slytherin had managed the spell. Professor McGonagall showed the class how Hermoine's had gone all silver and pointy and gave Hermione a rare smile. Afterwards, Professor McGonagall induced their other Professor.
"This is Professor Zatara, She will be with all of my first-year classes until they leave my class. As such, she has more time for you to come to her for questions regarding anything from homework to personal matters. You will treat her with the same respect as your other professors," She replied as black hair haired woman that hair is set down against her tanned skin. Her crystal clear eyes shimmered a little as she walked into the lighting. Harry admires her flair for dermatics, as he is vaguely reminded of a name his Uncle mentions offen.
She looks at Harry and smiles brightly as she says," Good Morning, As Professor McGonagall stated, My name is Professor Zatanna Zatara. I finished my learning here at Hogwarts as an apprentice of Professor McGonagall during the War."
The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defence 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 Duddley asked how he did such a feat and if he could show them how to do it for future reference, 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.
And while Harry could understand wanting to be protected wherever he went, because he certainly was, he remembered reading about vampires over one of many summer afternoons he spent with Gregior and Fate. Vampires aren't actually weakened by garlic of course.
However, it was double Potions that Friday with the Griffendors that Harry was looking forwards to the most.
Like most Teachers, Severus started his first couple of classes with verbal roll call until he got familiar with his student's faces. He glanced at the list as he noted the houses for his double potions that were next. Gryffindors and Slytherins. An inner shudder racked his body at the thought. Why Albus instead on having one of the most volatile classes in the school shared with the two houses that had the hugest rivalry in the school was beyond him. A ploy to fester it no doubt.
He shook his head from his musings as Students start to trickle in. He allows them to mill about for a while before flicking his wand to shut the class door. Any students left out after the warning bell rings will have to wait.
He flicks on the projection ward in front of the chalkboard and states quietly as a snake in the garden," Unlike some professors here at Hogwarts, I have assigned seats and partners for my lower year's classes. Should you prove to be competent at brewing and following instructions, in your third year you will be able to pick your partners. Seating arrangements are on the board."
His Slytherins, as well as one or two confident looking Gryffindors, spare no time to get sorted. He makes note of Harry slipping cheerfully next to Zabini and Kellah. The warning bell rings and seconds later he hears the talking of students outside it. He stalks over and slams it open to see a Weasley, as well as a few other of the Gryffindor boys. He hummed," Get in. Seating is on the board."
They hurried to their assigned seats as the class bell rang loudly. Severus tirled on his toes, his cloak flaring behind him as he walked to his desk and he stated," There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making. However, for those select few who possess the predisposition, I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper... to death."
He pauses to take a look at his students, Weasley is talking to his partner, a Mis Patil, and loudly complaining about having to work with one of his snakes. Nott, who he placed with the two knowing what the quite boy could do with a cauldron, looks like hell had boiled over*. He clears his throat as he stares at the Weasley boy," Then again, maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel confidant enough to not...pay...attention."
The boy jumps as Severus asks," Mr Weasley, what would you get if added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
"I don't know," He replies. Severus tsks as he turns to the board, suddenly powering off the projection ward as he writes on the board," Cure for boils, Year one, lesson one." Before asking, "Perhaps your partners may know? Mis Patil?"
"Isn't it the draught of living death, Professor?" She asks, ovbvullsy unsure. He hums," Correct. One point from Gryffindor for not paying attention during a lecture, Mr Weasley. Two to Gryffindor for answering a high levelled question correctly."
The shock from the Gryffindors seems to be studding them for a second. He can see one or two of their brains working to figure out his game. He smirks as he finishes writing his instructions on the board. Before speaking once more," Rise your hands if you have done potions before this?"
A majority of his Slytherins as well as a handful of the Gryffindors raise their hands. He nods before asking," And of thouse muggle-raised, how many of you have done science labs or cooked in your kitchens at home?"
It seems not that only three of his students haven't any technic. Weasley, Goyle, and Mis Vlia. He then says," Today we will not be brewing. Those who have worked in some sort of lab setting will most likely be getting a review of safety procedures and woke protocol. For the select few to who this is all brand new to, This will be the only time you may mess up. Any other time in this class may and has led to injury and in one case, before my time as a teacher a death. Do not make your class the one who brakes my impeccable record. Understand?"
The echo of "Yes, Professor." Begains the leason on safey.