Book: Courage
Chapter 4
Word Count: 2719
The next morning, Layla had woken up to see that Lavender was still snoring away, Parvati was hogging the bathroom to get ready, and Hermione was clearly an early bird and had already left. Layla never had much of an appetite in the mornings. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had breakfast. So instead, she used breakfast time to sleep in a little longer and then woke up to get ready for classes when she had the whole dorm to herself, and then, she could let Peaches out of her cage to roam free while Layla was in lessons.
But as Layla headed down to search for her class, she realised that she had no idea where her class was. It took her ages to find her class, and the rest of her classes for that matter. The rest of the week wasn't much different.
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, and the coats of armor could walk.
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. Nearly Headless Nick was always happy to point new Gryffindors in the right direction, but Peeves the Poltergeist was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase if you met him when you were late for class.
Even worse than Peeves, if that was possible, was the caretaker, Argus Filch. Filch owned a cat called Mrs. Norris, a scrawny, dust-colored 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.
And then, once you had managed to find them, there were the classes themselves. There was a lot more to magic than waving your wand and saying a few funny words.
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. 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 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. Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates, and got Emetic the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up.
Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, 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 class he took the roll call, and when he reached Harry's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight, which had Layla stifling her amused giggles for the remainder of the class. She had a feeling she would like Flitwick.
Professor McGonagall was again different. She was strict and clever, giving 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."
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. 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 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. Layla grew frustrated very quickly during the lesson; the most her match would do was turn silver, but it did not turn fully into a needle.
The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense 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 Seamus Finnigan 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.
Although Layla wasn't that strong in History of Magic or Transfiguration, she excelled amazingly in Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts, even going as far as to help some of the other students who hadn't quite got the hang of those lessons, mostly muggle-borns. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and hadn't had any idea that they were witches and wizards.
Layla couldn't blame them for struggling in their lessons, though, no matter what their blood type was. Even she was struggling and she tapped into her magic at a rather early age. There was so much to learn that even she didn't have much of a head start.
Once Friday rolled around, Layla woke up right as breakfast was almost over, which pleased her as, of course, she wasn't planning on going down to breakfast anyway and instead, got changed and grabbed her books to head down to classes.
The Potions lesson turned out to be Layla's favorite subject with her least favorite teacher... she'd looked forward to potions all week, she just wished she'd had a better teacher for it.
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 roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name.
"Ah, Yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new — celebrity."
Draco and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands, causing Layla to glare in their direction. 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.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking," 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. Harry and Ron exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Layla had her head in her palm, trying not to fall asleep. She loved knowing more about potions and was very interested, but Snape's drawling voice could put anyone to sleep. Hermione was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead.
"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Powdered root of what to an infusion of what? Harry glanced at Layla, who tried to mouth the answer to him.
"Um..." Harry tried to read Layla's lips to find out what she was mouthing. "The Draw of Liver Death?" The whole classes laughed and Layla face-palmed.
"It's the Draught of Living Death," Layla whispered to Harry.
"Well, I suck at lip reading," Harry whispered back. Hermione's hand had shot into the air. Now that Harry got the answer wrong, she'd hoped Snape would turn to her, but he kept his black eyes plastered on Harry. 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?"
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 looked to Layla for a second, who shrugged. She knew the answer of course, but she didn't want to embarrass Harry again if she mouthed the answer to him and he said it wrong again.
"I don't know, sir."
"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" 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 toward the dungeon ceiling. Layla smiled as she realised how easy the questions were.
"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"
A few people laughed; Harry caught Layla's eye, and Layla winked playfully, amused. 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, criticizing almost everyone except Draco, whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Draco 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 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 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 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."
This was so unfair that Layla opened her mouth to step in and try and put Snape in his place, but Hemione, whom Layla had decided to partner up with, nudged her and shook her head.
"Don't do it," muttered Hermione, "you'll lose more points for Gryffindor."
As they climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, Layla hurried to catch up to Harry and Ron, who were walking together not far in front of her.
"Harry, can I come and meet Hagrid with you?" asked Ron, and Harry nodded. Layla furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.
"Hagrid? That giant guy? He's lovely. Why are you guys going to see him?"
"He invited me over to have tea with him at three," told Harry. "Do you want to come, Layla?"
"It sounds really nice, but I have to study," said Layla. Harry and Ron exchanged incredulous looks, wondering how Layla could study after only the first week of school. "I refuse to fail any classes, and so far, I suck at Transfiguration. I want to impress McGonagall next class so I better do some Transfiguration studying. Have fun though, guys."
Later that night, after Harry and Ron had left to go to Hagrid's, Layla sat on her bed with books spread everywhere at around half past three. She had the afternoon off, meaning she could cram plenty of studying in before dinner.
Transfiguration is a core class and subject taught at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and Uagadou. It teaches the art of changing the form and appearance of an object or a person. Like charms work, Transfiguration is achieved through concentration, precise wand movements, and the proper pronunciation of an incantation. However, it is generally more difficult than Charms and requires great effort. Currently, transfiguration is divided into four branches (though - whilst based on canonical information - the typology is conjectural). They are, in ascending order of difficulty: Transformation, Vanishment, Conjuration and Untransfiguration.
Before Layla could read on further, the door of the dormitory opened and Parvati Patil walked in. Layla shot her a smile.
"Hey, Layla," grinned Parvati. She and Layla had become pretty good friends over the last week.
"Hey, Parvati."
"Have you seen this?" asked Parvati, holding up a copy of the Daily Prophet. "Break-in at Gringott's Bank."
"Really?" frowned Layla. "Can I see that, please?"
"Sure," Parvati handed the Daily Prophet to Layla, who skimmed the contents written across the front page.
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.
"Oh, wow," murmured Layla, handing the Daily Prophet back to Parvati.
"Yep. I want to know what was in that vault now," Parvati chuckled, before looking at all the books on Layla's bed. "You studying for Transfiguration? That class is impossible, isn't it? Need a study buddy?"
"Sure," Layla smiled, allowing Parvati to take a seat on the bed beside her.
The two studied together all the way until dinner time.