The Forgotten Twin

Chapter 8

Delilah was relieved to find out that she wasn't miles behind everyone else. Many people had come from Muggle families and, like her, hadn't known that they were witches and wizards. There was so much to learn that even people like Draco didn't have much of a head start.

Friday was an important day for Delilah and Draco, who she had started hanging out with, realizing he wasn't a complete and utter jerk. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once.

"What have we got today?" Draco asked Delilah as he poured sugar on his porridge.

"Double Potions with the Gryffindors," answered Delilah. "Snape's head of our House, isn't he?"

"Yeah, he usually favors us so we'll be fine." Draco stated.

"Does every head of house favor their house?"

Draco shook his head. "No, Professor McGonagall is head of Gryffindor but she still gives them the same huge pile of homework as us."

Just then, the mail arrived. Delilah 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.

Draco usually got sweets from home and was nice enough to share them with Delilah.

They walked down to Potions.

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, which Delilah actually liked. Despite the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls, it wasn't that creepy. Dudley and his gang had once locked her in a haunted house for several hours. This was nothing.

Snape started the class by taking the roll call, glancing at Delilah before he paused at Harry's name.

"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new — celebrity."

Draco, Vince, and Goyle all sniggered loudly. Delilah just rolled her eyes. 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.

"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.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly and Delilah's head snapped up, but he was looking at Harry, she relaxed slightly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Hermione's hand shot up.

Delilah paused and then remembered that it was the Draught of Living Death, but Harry wouldn't know. He had only read through the book once, and he didn't have a very good memory.

True to Delilah's prediction, Harry said, "I don't know, sir."

Snape's lips curled into a sneer.

"Tut, tut — fame clearly isn't everything."