THE ABANDONED DAUGHTER

The Flying Champion

It's finally Wednesday today, which means the first potion class for 1st year Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Anybody who knows Adhara Prince-Black can tell she is extremely excited (like a certain blond head who has rolled his eyes seeing her from the Slytherin table a few minutes ago) Yesterday history class with her dad was what she had expected, a blast. Her dad is always an excellent storyteller, he used to tell her stories about himself, father and their time at Hogwarts. He had made that boring goblin rebellion an interesting story and with the interesting name(Gripclaw the gripper, seriously dad) he had given to the goblins she is damn sure no one is going to forget it. While she was expecting more history about magic and extraordinary wizards and witches (dad had explained why he can't teach extremely different from the usual Hogwarts syllabus last week, apparently certain white bearded individual hold too much power currently and can put a big red cross in any thing he doesn't approve but he had promise to include as many thing as possible in between those boring goblin war discreetly), it was a outstanding lesson.

Another class she had yesterday was DADA, a class she was so excited about, being the daughter of a dark arts lover and dueling experts. But it was a totally miserable and most unproductive class she has ever attended in her life (yes including all the classes in Carmarthenshire, the muggle school she attended). Professor Quirrell was not only stuttering the whole time making it impossible to get head or tail of what he was saying but also the smell of garlic was making her head throb especially at the scar region of her forehead. She would have cursed that stuttering nincompoop if she could. But alas he will just get pranked. Lucky him.

She started her breakfast when an owl carrying a daily prophet landed in front of her (father got her subscription as she also likes to read while eating breakfast like him much to the irritation of her dad). What, fudge wanted to place aurors in the bank after the attempted theft on july 31, she read the front page headline, that man will start goblin war-16th? Most moronic man ever hence proved.

"You read that rag," Mandy asked, sitting in front of her, while Adhara was skimming to the potion section.
"Rag it may be, but it is the only paper available for news," Adhara replied without looking at her as she was busy reading an article about the new ministerial regulations about buying the quantity of aconite.

Soon all the 1st year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs made their way towards the dungeon. They settled down and were chattering when the door slammed open. A black clad figure entered the classroom bellowing his robe behind with a grace that made students often mistaken him for a vampire.

"Put the wands away,"

He started taking the roll looking at each new face and associated them with the name. There was of course a tiny pause at the Adhara Prince-Black's name and a tiny smile which went unnoticed by everyone but that particular girl.

After finishing he stood in front of the new Ravens and badgers with hands crossed and looked at them detachedly. Like McGonagall, he also possesses the ability to keep everyone shut and pay him attention without doing anything except he rarely shouts (even when extremely angry instead he goes completely calm) and his voice is always soft but carried to every direction effortlessly.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making." He started with a silky voice that reached every corner of the room despite being soft. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic." Every single of them got straight and hung on to his every word.

"I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes... the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins... ensnaring the senses..." The voice took on a dreamy edge. "I can teach you how to bottle fame... brew glory ... even stopper death." he trails off for a moment and lets his dark gaze move over the students who are all staring at him like a frightened rabbit might watch a hunting dog.
"If you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads like I usually have to teach." He said looking each and every one of them briefly pausing at the 2nd desk where his daughter was sitting giving him her complete attention like always.