"That really doesn't sound good," Cedric said. Hermione agreed – from the way he was described in the previous chapter, this professor wasn't a good guy.
"There, look."
"I think there looking for you," Hermione said, pointing towards Harry.
"Where?"
"Next to the tall kid with the red hair."
"And I'm obviously with Ron," Harry said.
"Wearing the glasses?"
"Did you see his face?"
"Did you see his scar?"
"Lovely," Hermione sniffed, not impressed with whoever these people were.
Whispers followed Harry from the moment he left his dormitory he next day. People lined up outside classrooms stood on tip-toe to get a look at him, or doubled back to pass him in the corridors again, staring. Harry wished they wouldn't, because he was trying to concentrate on finding his way to classes.
"Yeah, that would be very annoying," Hermione said.
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.
"Yeah, those are annoying," Cedric said.
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.
"That's also annoying," Cedric said.
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 Harry was sure the coats of armor could walk.
"They can, though I've never actually seen it," Cedric said. "I asked the Fat Friar about it."
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.
"That would suck," Hermione said, thinking about how Harry had described it in the previous chapter.
Nearly Headless Nick was always happy to point new Gryffindors in the right direction,
"The house ghost usually is…for the house they belong to. Nearly Headless Nick isn't as nice to everyone else as he is to those in Gryffindor, just as the Fat Friar isn't as nice to those who are not in Hufflepuff," Cedric said.
but Peeves the Poltergeist was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase if you met him where you were late for class. He would drop wastepaper baskets on your head, pull rungs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!"
"Didn't your mother say that James Potter taught him that when you were telling her about it last summer," Luna said. Cedric nodded.
"If it happens to you, you've only got your father to blame," Cedric said to Harry, though good humouredly.
Even worse than Peeves, if that was possible, was the caretaker, Argus Flich. Harry and Ron managed to get on the wrong side of him on their very first morning.
"What did you two do?" Hermione asked, looking a bit disappointed at Harry for getting in trouble already.
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.
"Honest mistake, huh?" Hermione said again – how were they supposed to know which door was which in the rather confusing sounding castle. They couldn't expect to know the castle on the back of their hand their hands, especially on their first day of school.
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.
"Can he actually do that?" Harry asked.
"No," Cedric said, "it doesn't mean that he won't threaten, though. He loves to threaten things like that and corporeal punishment."
Filch owned a cat called Mrs. Norris, a scrawny, dust-colored creature with bulging, lamplike eyes just like Filch's. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put just one toes out of line, and she'd whisk off for Filch, who'd appear, wheezing, two seconds later.
"That's fast," Harry said.
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.
And I personally know some people who have thought Cedric, though he was smart enough to keep that quiet after seeing Hermione's thunderous expression.
And then, once you had managed to find them, there were the classes themselves. There was a lot more magic, as Harry quickly found out, than waving your wand and saying a few funny words.
"Of course there is," Luna said.
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.
"Sounds fun," Hermione said.
Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout,
"She's not dumpy," Cedric said.
"I take it you know her," Harry said.
"Yes, very well, in fact. She's my head out house, just as McGonagall is yours," Cedric said.
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 next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him.
"Do you think that's actually true," Hermione said.
"Don't know. It's just what's said around the school. Of course, no ones actually has ever asked him," Cedric said.
Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates, and got Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up.
"If that's what he's like, why don't they fire him and get a new teacher?" Hermione asked.
"Why bother. As a ghost, he's stuck on this plane of existence, so he'd be around the castle anyways, and this way, they don't have to pay him, a win-win situation for the Board of Governors and the Ministry, who deal with the teachers pay," Cedric said. "In their minds, it's basically a who cares about whether or not a person is learning what they should, so long as they can pay as minimal as much and keep the as much of the money for themselves as much as possible."
Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pole of books to see over his desk. At the state of their first class he took the roll call, and when he reached Harry's name, he gave an excite squeak and toppled out of sight.
"Poor Flitwick," Cedric chuckled.
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 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."
"Not true, otherwise the Weasley twins most likely would have been kicked out long ago," Cedric said.
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.
"Yeah. You've got to get used to changing things before you can do something that big," Cedric said.
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 Granger 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.
"Wow, that's good. It took me till the next class to change mine," Cedric said.
"Yeah, that is really good," Harry added.
The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts,
"Somehow, I don't think it would really be worth it," Cedric said. "The teachers I've already have had weren't bad, but they weren't good either, and, if the stutter is an indicator, I doubt that Quirrell will be any good."
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.
"Oh, I am going to hate garlic by the end of this year, I just know it," Harry said.
His turban, he told them, had bee 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;
"Basically, he's lying about it and isn't good at coming up with a descriptive story about it," Hermione scoffed.
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.
Harry and Hermione both thought that was interesting. Wouldn't it had said that it smelled like garlic if it was garlic? That would definitely make more sense than to say that it was a funny smell. Somehow, they had a feeling that this was important to know.
Harry was very relieved to find out that he wasn't miles behind everyone else.
"You're a first year, of course your not miles behind everyone else," Cedric said.
Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like him, hadn't had any idea that they were witches and wizards. There was so much to learn that even people like Ron didn't have much of a head start.
"Not sure that Ron's a good person to use as an example," Luna said.
Friday was an important day for Harry 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 Ron as he poured sugar on his porridge.
"Double Potions with the Slytherins," said Ron. "Snape's Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors them – we'll be able to see if it's true."
"It is," Cedric said; he had Potions with the Slytherins as well; they switched it all around so that every house was with the other house for every lesson. His Potions year was with the Slytherins, while the Gryffindors were with the Ravenclaws.
"Wish McGonagall favored us," said Harry. Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor House, but it hadn't stopped her from giving them a huge pile of homework the day before.
"Well, while McGonagall does favor her house – as do the other two Heads – it's not homework that you get favored for," Cedric said. "It's usually little things, unless your in Slytherin. Then, you can pretty much get away with anything, for he will never take off points from them unless he has no choice, and even then, he'll take off the minimal that he can, and he never puts them into detention unless, again, he can't help it."
Just then, the mail arrived. Harry had gotten used to this by now, but it had given him 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.
Hedwig hadn't brought Harry anything so far. She sometimes flew in to nibble his ear and have a bit if toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school owls.
"Again, that a sign that she likes you," Luna said.
This morning, however, she fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note onto Harry's plate. Harry tore it open at once. It said, in a very untidy scrawl:
Dear Harry,
I know you get Friday afternoon 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 Ron's quill, scribbled Yes, please, see you later on the back of the note, and sent Hedwig off again.
"At least I have something to look forward to on Friday," Harry said.
It was lucky that Harry had tea with Hagrid to look forward to, because the Potions lesson turned out to be the worst thing that had happened to him so far.
"Why?" Hermione asked.
At the start-of-term banquet, Harry had gotten the idea that Professor Snape disliked him. By the end of the first Potions lesson, he knew he'd been wrong. Snape didn't dislike Harry – he hated him.
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.
Harry and Hermione shuddered.
Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by talking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name.
"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new – celebrity."
"That's not very professional," Hermione said
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 like Hagrid's, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels.
"Ow," Harry said, lightly rubbing his arm where Hermione had poked him.
"Don't compare him to Hagrid," Hermione said.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact are of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, bit they caught every word – like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort.
"Stop it," Harry said, looking at Luna this time, for she had poked him this time.
"Don't compare him to Professor McGonagall," she said.
"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 bunch a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
"It was a good speech until he called you a bunch of dunderheads," Cedric said.
More silence followed this little speech. 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.
Hermione blushed.
"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
"A sleeping potion so powerful it's called the Draught of Sleeping Death," Cedric said, frowning, "but it's not something covered in first year."
Powdered root of what to an infusion of what? Harry glanced at Ron, who looked as stumped as he was; Hermione's hand had shot into the air.
"You know it?" Cedric asked Hermione, a bit amazed.
"I guess," she said.
"I don't know, sir," said Harry.
Snape's lips curled into a sneer.
"Tut, tut – fame clearly isn't everything."
"What does being famous have to do with school?" Hermione asked.
He ignored Hermione's hand.
"Not surprising. If he asks something, but a Slytherin doesn't know the answer, he'll act like no one knows it," Cedric said. "Your wasting your time even raising your hand. In truth, the best you can do is talk to your head of house about his conduct, but it won't do anything. No matter how much people have complained, Dumbledore just ignores it when it comes to him; it's why he can get away with so much."
"I wonder if there's a book out there that can tell us all about how Hogwarts works, including the way the Professors are supposed to act," Hermione said.
"I don't know. I guess, when it you go to Diagon Alley, you can look to see if there is or not," Cedric said.
"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
"It's a stone taken from inside the stomach of a goat. That is a first year question, but not taught until the second term," Cedric said, another frown on his face. Why was Snape asking questions about things that he hadn't even taught the class about yet, even if some of them are mentioned in the book he had to get? He got the feeling that there was more to this than he knew.
Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Harry didn't have the faintest idea what a bezoar was. He tried not to look at Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were shaking with laughter.
"I don't know, sir."
"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?"
Harry forced himself to keep looking straight into those cold eyes. He had looked through his books at the Dursleys', but did Snape expect him to remember everything in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi?
"You should, though he technically should actually teach you, not just ask questions as he's doing since this is the first lesson," Hermione said.
Snape was still ignoring Hermione's quivering hand.
"You really should put it down," Cedric said. 'He's not going to ask you, no matter how long you hold your hand up."
"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
"The same plant, also goes by the name of aconite. That's a first year, first term question, but shouldn't be asked until either midterm or the end of term," Cedric said, once again frowning.
At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.
"You don't give up, do you?" Harry said. She shook her head.
"In Snape's class, don't be like that. You'll just end up hurt, humiliated, and probably in trouble," Cedric said.
"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"
"Not smart," said Cedric.
A few people laughed; Harry caught Seamus's eye, and Seamus winked. Snape however, was not pleased.
"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione.
Hermione flinched as if he had actually been there telling her that. She'd never had such a rude teacher before. She could see what Cedric meant about ending up hurt; she had a feeling that, sooner or later, he would do something that would hurt her immensely.
"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?"
"Maybe because you didn't tell us to," Hermione snapped, now feeling angry at his mannerism.
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."
"Well, that's not too bad. You kind of did talk back to the teacher, and he could have taken off more points," Cedric said.
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, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like.
"Okay, that right there tells me that I will never get along with him, even if I wanted to," Harry said. "How in hell can he like Malfoy?"
"I think there's a reason for it, but I'm not sure what it is," Cedric said.
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.
"Get on your stools, quickly," Cedric said.
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 arm and legs.
"Poor Neville," Hermione said.
"Idiot boy!"
"Don't call him an idiot!" Hermione yelled, before turning to Cedric. "Are you sure nothing can be done to Snape for things like this. I mean, can't we get another teacher to monitor his classes, at the very least?"
"I'm not sure. Maybe, if you find that book you mentioned before, it might say something about it, that can bypass the Headmaster's decision," Cedric said. Hermione made her personal mission to do as he said.
snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of her 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."
"Now, that isn't fair. You were not Neville's partner, so you are not responsible for what he does," Cedric said.
This was so unfair that 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."
"Unfortunately, that sounds very true," Hermione said.
As they climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, Harry's mind was racing and his spirits were low. He'd lost two points for Gryffindor in his very first week – why did Snape hate him so much?
"Cheer up," said Ron, "Snape's always taking points off Fred and George. Can I come and meet Hagrid with you?"
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."
"Fangs not…dangerous, is he?' Hermione asked anxiously.
"No. Usually, if it's got a dangerous sounding name, then their not dangerous beyond the provoked reactions," Cedric said. "It's usually the nice sounding names that you have to watch out for."
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. Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked.
"This is Ron," Harry told Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes onto a plate.
"Don't eat the food," Cedric warned.
"Another Weasley, eh?" said Hagrid, glancing at Ron's freckles.
"That's going to make him feel so great," Harry said sarcastically.
"I would have thought the hair would have been the indicator of a Weasley, not his freckles," Cedric said.
"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 Harry and Ron 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.
"See, he's not dangerous at all," said Cedric.
Harry and Ron were delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch "that old git."
"Of course you are," Hermione sighed.
"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."
"Why?" Harry asked.
"Does it have to do with the fact that he was expelled?" Hermione added.
Harry told Hagrid about Snape's lesson. Hagrid, like Ron, told Harry not to worry about it, that Snape liked hardly any of the students.
"That's true. If your not in Slytherin, your not liked," Cedric said.
"But he seemed to really hate me."
"Rubbish!" said Hagrid. "Why should he?"
Yet Harry couldn't help thinking that Hagrid didn't quite meet his eyes when he said that.
"You know, now that I think about it, Snape and your father weren't exactly best friends in school," Cedric said. "My mother said that James was always playing tricks on Snape, tricks that didn't exactly endear your mother to him, since your mother Lily was friends with Snape, up until fifth year, I believe."
"How do you know that?" Hermione asked while Harry asked, "My mom was friends with him?"
"I know because my mother told me after mentioning that she was always glad that Lily had stopped hanging out with him," Cedric said. "And yes, Harry, they were friends at some point."
"And yes, Hagrid would know about it since he was at the school at the time as well," Cedric added when he saw that Harry was about to ask something else, and guessing, correctly, what he was about to ask.
"How's yer brother Charlie?" Hagrid asked Ron. "I liked him a lot – great with animals."
"Nice subject change," Hermione said.
Harry wondered if Hagrid had changed the subject on purpose. 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 cozy. It was a cutting from the Daily Prophet:
GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST
"So we get to find out more about this," Cedric said.
Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July,
"Wait, that happened on birthday," Harry said.
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 after- noon.
"How nice," Hermione said sarcastically.
Harry remembered Ron telling him on he train that someone had tried to rob Gringotts, but Ron hadn't mentioned the date.
"Hagrid!" said Harry, "that Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might've been happening while we were there!"
"No, it happened afterwards if it's the vault that you guys went to, otherwise they would have gotten whatever it is," Hermione said.
There was no doubt about it, Hagrid definitely didn't meet Harry's eyes this time. He grunted and offered him another rock cake. Harry read the story again. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied earlier that same day. Hagrid had emptied vault seven hundred and thirteen, if you could call it emptying, taking out that grubby little package. Had that been what the thieves were looking for?
"Yes," Cedric, Hermione, and Luna all said.
As Harry and Ron walked back to the castle for dinner, their pockets weighed down with rock cakes they'd been too polite to refuse,
"I would suggest you get rid of them instead of eating them," Cedric said.
Harry thought that none of the lessons he'd had so far had given him as much to think about as tea with Hagrid.
"Of course," Hermione sighed.
Had Hagrid collected that package just in time? Where was it now? And did Hagrid know something about Snape that he didn't' want to tell Harry?
"Yes, Hogwarts, and yes," Harry said, answering his own questions. "Chapter's done," he added, handing the book over to Hermione.
"What time is it?" she asked as she took the proffered book. They looked at the clock. It was four thirty now.
"We've got time to read a few more chapters," Cedric said. Hermione nodded as she turned back to the book.