Finding classes was hard enough for the first years, even without people blocking the hallways to get a look at her. And classes, classes were truly a struggle. She discovered that very quickly in her first class. Charms with Professor Flitwick, even though she had sat at the front desk, to try to get the most she could, she still had no idea what was going on. She had to constantly resort to her slate. At least professor Flitwick tried to help her.
Potions was even worse, Snape, the man who had been surprised by her appearance during sorting seemed to hate her for some reason. At the beginning of the class, he faced them all, Hari, again at the front and gave a speech. "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he began. "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."
Then he looked directly at Hari. "Potter!" said Snape, glaring at her, and yet refusing to look at her face "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Hari put her hands up in an I don't know gesture, shaking her head. Snape's lips curled into a sneer.
"Tut, tut -- fame clearly isn't everything." His sneer growing, "Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
Again Hari could only shake her head.
"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?"
Hari could do nothing, only stay silent.
"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Snape was so close to her, looking her dead in the eyes.
Hari could feel tears welling up.
"Answer me!"
Suddenly Ron had, a hand on her shoulder, she turned to look at him, her vision edged with tears. "She's deaf Professor, what do you expect?!" He looked livid.
Snape glared at Ron, then walked away. "For your information, 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, and a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek."
Classes were truly a struggle, but It was a relief whenever transfiguration came along. Professor McGonagall signed along as she spoke, which was ever so helpful, and when she called on Hari, which was rare, she understood as Hari signed back, not forcing her to use the slate as did the other teachers.
So far they had only been working on theory, not wand-work, but how would Hari be able to cast without speaking? From what she had read, only sixth years and older could.
As always, she could constantly see people watching her, people mocking her. She didn't fit in at all. Malfoy was the worst, apparently he was still quite annoyed at them for what had happened on the train, and was enjoying taking it out on Hari. Whether it was a snide remark or just a straight insult to her face, Draco Malfoy was quite an annoyance.
Without Ron, she wasn't sure how she would have handled it all, he was the only one she was comfortable with, leaving his side only to go to the washroom or girls dormitories, where she didn't really seem to get along with anyone. It had been on more than one occasion after a particularly hard lesson that he had just found her an empty corner and sat quietly with her while she cried.
On the friday of the next week, Hari received a letter from Hagrid
Dear Hari,
I know you get Friday afternoons 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 two weeks. Send us an answer back with Hedwig.
Hagrid
Hari borrowed Ron's quill, scribbled Yes, please, see you later on the back of the note, and sent Hedwig off again. It was a calm visit, just eating rock cakes. Ron and Hagrid talked, but Hari just sat by the fire, patting Hagrid's enormous black dog Fang. Hari decided She liked Hagrid's hut, it was nice calm and comforting. Best of all, she could just pat Fang and not be expected to talk.
Hari was at breakfast before flying lessons started when Malfoy sauntered up to the Gryffindor table. Neville had been examining the Remembrall he'd just received when Malfoy snatched it out of his hand. No one stood up for him and Hari, done with Malfoy being hostile, stood up and signed for him to give it back to Neville. Luckily Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school, was there in a flash.
After breakfast the Gryffindor and Slytherins headed to the ground in front of the castle for their first lesson.
There were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.
"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she said. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."
Hari went up to the front, right next to Madam Hooch. She glanced down at her broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles.
"Stick out your right hand over your broom," said Madam Hooch, "and say 'Up!'"
Hari's broom jumped into his hand at once, without her even saying anything, not that she could. But it was one of the few that did. Hermione Granger's had simply rolled over on the ground, and Neville's hadn't moved at all. Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips.
"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle -- three -- two--" But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.
"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle -- twelve feet -- twenty feet. Hari saw his scared white face look down at the ground falling away, saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom and -- WHAM -- Neville lay facedown on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher and started to drift lazily toward the forbidden forest and out of sight.
Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his.
She turned to the rest of the class.
"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."
Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.
No sooner were they out of sight than Malfoy burst into laughter.
"Did you see his face, the great lump?"
The other Slytherins joined in.
"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil.
"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati." The conversation was jumping around, making it hard to follow.
Malfoy darted forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."
The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.
Hari clapped her hands hard together once, to get Malfoy's attention, the signed 'Give it to me.'
Malfoy smiled nastily.
"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find -- how about -- up a tree?"
'Give!' Hari signed again, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off. Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak tree he signed largely and sarcastically while talking 'Come and get it!'
Hari grabbed her broom.
"No!" said Hermione Granger, stepping in front of her so she could see her face. "Madam Hooch told us not to move -- you'll get us all into trouble."
Hari ignored her. She mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground and up, up he soared; air rushed through her hair, and her robes whipped out behind her -- and in a rush of joy she realized she'd found something she could do without speaking -- this was easy, this was wonderful. She'd found where she belonged. She pulled her broomstick up a little to take it even higher, then turned her broomstick sharply to face Malfoy in midair. Malfoy looked stunned.
'Give it here,' Hari signed, easily taking one hand of the broom to do so, 'or I'll knock you off.'
"Oh, yeah?" said Malfoy, still signing, trying to sneer, but looking worried.
Hari shot toward Malfoy like a javelin, somehow knowing exactly what to do. Malfoy only just got out of the way in time; Hari made a sharp about-face and held the broom steady.
Suddenly Malfoy threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back toward the ground.
Hari saw, as though in slow motion, the ball rose up in the air, glinting gently is the sunlight as though it were crystal, and then it started to fall. She leaned forward and pointed her broom handle down racing the ball as it fell shining through the air. She would hit the ground any second, but she wanted to catch it, she had to catch it. Something inside of her, of her very soul, was driving her on. She grabbed it a split second before the ground, barely managing to pull the broom straight, and avoid hitting the ground herself. She rolled gently over her shoulder onto the grass, absorbing the small impact, and stood up...... Face to face with Professor McGonagall..... Her heart sank faster than she had dived. Professor McGonagall seemed speechless with shock. Unable to say anything, she just grabbed Hari by the collar and marched her away. Hari caught sight of Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle's triumphant faces over her shoulder, and felt her pit of dread deepen.
• • •
It was dinnertime. Ron was so amazed, so impressed, "A seeker!?" he said, "But first years never -- You must be the youngest player in about a----a----"
Century, Hari wrote
Ron just sat and gaped at Hari, who looked over her shoulder when she was tapped. It was the Weasley twins."Well done, Harriette" said George. "Wood told us. We're on the team too -- Beaters."
"I tell you, we're going to win that Quidditch cup for sure this year, Hariline," said Fred. "We haven't won since Charlie left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, Harioodle, Wood was almost skipping when he told us."
"Anyway, we've got to go, Lee Jordan reckons he's found a new secret passageway out of the school."
"Bet it's that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week. See you, Harilee."
Hari smiled, finding all the different names the twins always called her funny.
"Having your last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?"
Hari crossed her arms, glaring at him.
"I'd take you on anytime on my own," said Malfoy. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only -- no contact." Hari was confused. "What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"
"Of course she has," said Ron, wheeling around. "I'm her second, who's yours?"
Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up.
"Crabbe," he said. "Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked."
When Malfoy had gone, Ron and Hari looked at each other.
What is a wizard's duel? Hari wrote. And what do you mean, you're my second?
"Well, a second's there to take over if you die," said Ron casually, getting started at last on his cold pie. Catching the look on Hari's face, he added quickly, "But people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy'll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway."
But I can't even do any magic. Hari wrote terrified. I can't, he'll just hurt me. She suddenly remembered Dudley and his gang beating her up. She rushed out of the great hall, Ron running after her, to her in a corner, curled up with her hand over her face, shaking.
"Just punch him on the nose," Ron suggested, when she looked up at him, her face soaked.
Ron suddenly looked up, and Hari followed his example. It was Hermione Granger.
"I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying-- well I couldn't hear you obviously, but I can read some BSL" She frowned, "and you mustn't go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's really very selfish of you."
'I don't want to go' Hai signed, 'but I don't want to let Ron down.
"What did she say?" Ron asked
"That she didn't want to go." Hermione said, "Honestly, she's your friend, you should learn to understand her."
"Go away!" Ron said.
Hari was terrified, but she also didn't want to let Malfoy prove her wrong. She sat in the corner of the common room and fell asleep.
• • •
"Half-past eleven," Ron said when he woke her up, "we'd better go."
A few embers were still glowing in the fireplace, turning all the armchairs into hunched black shadows. They had almost reached the portrait hole when a lamp flickered on. It was Hermione Granger, wearing a pink bathrobe and a frown.
Hermione and Ron started arguing.
Ron pulled Hari through the portrait hole. Hermione wasn't going to give up that easily. She followed Ron through the portrait hole.
The two kept arguing until Hermione turned around to the portrait of the Fat Lady to get back inside and found herself facing an empty painting. The Fat Lady had gone on a nighttime visit and Hermione was locked out of Gryffindor tower.
They hadn't even reached the end of the corridor when Hermione caught up with them.
"I'm coming with you," she said.
"You are not."
They started arguing again.
They found Neville behind a statue. He was curled up on the floor, fast asleep, but jerked suddenly awake as they crept nearer.
"Thank goodness you found me! I've been out here for hours, I couldn't remember the new password to get into bed."
"Keep your voice down, Neville. The password's 'Pig snout' but it won't help you now, the Fat Lady's gone off somewhere." Ron said "Good -- well, look, Neville, we've got to be somewhere, we'll see you later--"
"Don't leave me!" said Neville, scrambling to his feet, "I don't want to stay here alone, the Bloody Baron's been past twice already."
"If either of you gets us caught, I'll never rest until I've learned that Curse of the Bogies Quirrell told us about, and used it on you," Ron said, furious
They flitted along corridors striped with bars of moonlight from the high windows. At every turn, Hari expected to run into Filch or Mrs Norris, but they were lucky. They sped up a staircase to the third floor and tiptoed toward the trophy room.
Malfoy and Crabbe weren't there yet. The crystal trophy cases glimmered where the moonlight caught them. Cups, shields, plates, and statues winked silver and gold in the darkness. They edged along the walls, keeping their eyes on the doors at either end of the room. The minutes crept by. Sudenly all of them except Hari jumped, they must have heard something
Ron waved madly at the other three to follow him as quickly as possible; they scurried silently toward the door. Hari raised her hand in question. "Filch," Ron mouthed
Hari pointed down the hallway and, petrified, they began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armour. Neville suddenly broke into a run, and tripped, grabbed Ron around the waist, and the pair of them toppled right into a suit of armour.
The four of them sprinted down the gallery, not looking back to see whether Filch was following -- they swung around the doorpost and galloped down one corridor then another, Hari in the lead, without any idea where they were or where they were going -- they ripped through a tapestry and found themselves in a hidden passageway, hurtled along it and came out near their Charms classroom, which they knew was miles from the trophy room.
Hari panted, leaning against the cold wall and wiping his forehead. Neville was bent double.
"I -- told -- you," Hermione gasped, clutching at the stitch in her chest, "I -- told -- you."
"We've got to get back to Gryffindor tower," said Ron, "quickly as possible."
"Malfoy tricked you," Hermione said to Hari. "You realize that, don't you? He was never going to meet you -- Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off."
Hari thought she was probably right, but she wasn't going to tell her that.
Getting back wasn't going to be that simple. They hadn't gone more than a dozen paces when something came shooting out of a classroom in front of them.
It was Peeves. He caught sight of them and started dancing. "Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty." He did a little jig. "Should tell Filch, I should," said Peeves his eyes glittering wickedly. "It's for your own good, you know."
"Get out of the way," snapped Ron, taking a swipe at Peeves this was a big mistake.
"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves said, he appeared to be screaming at the top of his lungs, "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"
Ducking under Peeves, they ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor where they slammed into a door -- and it was locked.
They pushed helplessly at the door. Hermione grabbed Hari's wand, tapped the lock, which turned, and the door opened. -- they piled through it, shut it quickly, and slumped against it. Ron mouthing along with what was being said outside, so that Hari could understand.
"Which way did they go, Peeves?" That much be Filch "Quick, tell me."
"Say 'please.'" Peeves
"Don't mess with me, Peeves, now where did they go ?" Filch
"Shan't say nothing if you don't say please," Peeves
"All right -- please." Filch
"NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you didn't say please! Haha! Haaaaaa!"
"Peeves left and Filch is cursing in rage." Ron whispered. "He thinks this door is locked,"
Neville tugged on Hari's sleeve, Hari turned around. For a moment, she was sure she'd walked into a nightmare -- this was too much, on top of everything that had happened so far. They weren't in a room, as she had supposed. They were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now they knew why it was forbidden.
They were looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog that filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads. Three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering in their direction; three drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs. It was standing quite still, on top of a trap door Hari noticed, all six eyes staring at them, and Hari knew that the only reason they weren't already dead was that their sudden appearance had taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that.
Hari groped for the doorknob -- between Filch and death, she'd take Filch.
They fell backward -- Hari slammed the door shut, and they ran, they almost flew, back down the corridor. Filch must have hurried off to look for them somewhere else, because they didn't see him anywhere, but they hardly cared -- all they wanted to do was put as much space as possible between them and that monster. They didn't stop running until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.
Hari something else to think about as she climbed back into bed. The dog was guarding something... What had Hagrid said? Gringotts was the safest place in the world for something you wanted to hide -- except perhaps Hogwarts.
It looked as though Hari had found out where the grubby little package from vault seven hundred and thirteen was.
Also: here is a doodle I did of Ron and Hari.
I obviously do not own harry potter or any of the characters setting or story. This is my first time writing a deaf character and I'm sorry if I mess up. I appreciate suggestions or corrections.