Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire Poster

Harry Potter And The Goblet Of Fire Poster Print Last Name: Unknown. Paper Width: 17. 000. Paper Height: 11. 000. $19.57

Harry Potter And The Goblet Of Fire Poster Print Last Name: Unknown. Paper Width: 11. 000. Paper Height: 17. 000. $19.57

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire Packed with poster-sized pictures, statistics, and facts about the characters from the movie and the teen stars who play them! $7.99

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FawkesthePhoenix Joined: 31 December 2006 Posts: 3534 Location: No idea, all I know is that there are a LOT of felt-tipped pens...	Posted: Saturday 26 June 2010 03 42 32 pm    Post subject: Re: Some Secrets in topic:Some Secrets Chapter 2: Sometimes I feel like I'm moving at a different speed than the rest of the world, going slow-motion while everyone else speed-walks. Other days it's like I'm the one going faster, but that the ending I'm hurtling towards with so much more speed than anyone else is something terrible that I haven't had the good sense to avoid. Today is one of those days. I'm walking to Potions class, and I'm suffocating. The crowd of students is stifling my breath. Smothering me. I begin to breath faster, then force myself to slow down and inhale deeply. I'm having a panic attack, Madame Pomfrey would have said. She always tells me breathing deeply helps, and it does, a little. But not enough because that's the thing; I can't breathe. I try to make my way nonchalantly through the seemingly crowded hallway, but I don't need to worry. No one cares about my slight hyperventilation, or the panicked look in my eyes. I'm just the loner girl, good for nothing except teasing and exploitation. After a few minutes of plodding through the impossibly large throng of students, I see it-- a bathroom. It might be Moaning Myrtle's, but I don't care. Maybe we can have a good cry together. Either way, it's a place I can be alone, away from this mesh of cluttered activity. I renew my efforts to get through the hallway, and eventually push my way into the bathroom, ignoring the fifth-year walking past it, and not even stopping to mutter an apology as I step on his foot in my hurry. Once inside the cooler, emptier area of the bathroom, I start to calm down. That hallway really wasn't very crowded at all, I realize with chagrin. I was imagining the situation to be worse than it was. How stupid of me, I think to myself, and start gathering up the contents of my bag, which had spilled out over the floor in my frenzy. I'm going to be late for Potions. The classroom is quiet as I sneak in late, and, other than a reprimand from Professor Slughorn about my behavior and timing, the class goes without a hitch. I know that my fellow students will pounce upon my lateness as an excuse for berating me the moment they get the chance, but what else is new? I should be used to this by now. And yet, I still find anxiety creeping into my stomach as I enter the common room that night. Perhaps some things never change. Sitting by the fire with my homework splayed half-finished across my lap, I catch a fluttering by the window in my peripherals, the same as last night. I try to ignore it, mindful of the precarious position of all the various books and papers on my person. But I keep a close watch on it as I struggle through the rest of my assignments, getting up to go to bed only when it fades from sight. I walk into the Girl's Dormitory, only to stop up short when I see that Mia and some of her friends are still up. They scurry out of the way, with barely a glance in my direction as I walk towards my bed. Odd. I discover the cause of their actions as I open my four-poster bed a few moments later. Stenciled across my bedspread in red paint is the word, “loser” in elegant print. Very original. I bundle up the soiled cloth and leave it in a pile on the floor. The house elves will take care of it by morning, and if I'm lucky, maybe Mia will step in the wet paint on her way to the bathroom that night. Herbology the next day would've been a cause for extreme embarrassment, if I hadn't stopped caring about my life in general years ago. The boy who I had almost steamrolled over as I rushed to the bathroom in the midst of the previous day's panic attack, was not, I discovered, a fifth-year who I'd hopefully never encounter again, much less remember. Fate hates me too much for that. No, he's a new student in my year, and had been assigned as my partner. Not that I volunteered or anything. I, being the social pariah I was, had been left partnerless at the beginning of the year when everyone was told to pair up, and had been working either by myself or with the professor all year. It seemed all that was about to change. His name is Jarret, and with his dark hair and intense brown eyes, I might have been lusting after him along with all the other girls (Mia's mouth seemed to be watering). That is, if he had said a word to me the entire period. Or even made eye contact. Now, as I sit alone at the house table during lunch, I wonder if I ought to have made an attempt to make conversation. Or to be friendly at all. But, having been forbidden contact with other people my age after being bitten as a child, I never developed any terribly adept people skills. Besides, what was there to talk about? I don't eat much, and soon I'm sitting in Defense Against the Dark Arts, where I'm again sitting next to Jarret. He starts writing the moment the teacher begins lecturing, successfully guilting me into talking careful notes on the various types of jinxes throughout the duration of the class. I'm making my bravest attempt at listening to the teacher, but it's a struggle. I'm so used to looking through a fog that the writing on the board is a mystery. I'm copying the letters down, but I have no idea what the lesson is about. Just as my quill is about to snap from all the pressure I'm putting on it in my concentration, the class miraculously ends. “Remember, essay due next week!” the professor calls out as everyone begins to pack up their things. “Eight inches of parchment, and no writing in all capitals!” A couple boys in the back groan at this pronouncement. I roll my eyes discreetly. I always try to be the first one out of each class, so as to avoid too much interaction with my fellows, but today I drop my bag as I stand up, and so have to pick up the scrambled contents from the floor before I can leave. I try to get everything as quickly as possible, before anyone notices my clumsiness. I can feel my face turn a deep scarlet, and my embarrassment only thickens when Mia notices me scrambling on the floor. “Oh, dear!” she exclaims in mock pity, “Poor Lia has dropped her bag! I'll catch up with you later,” she says to her friends, who cover their smirks with nods of fake understanding. “I ought to help clean up this mess.” I cringe as she walks over. I hate her. I hate her wavy brown hair, so shiny compared to my stringy, mousy brown locks. I hate that her name sounds so much like mine. But most of all, I hate that her courtesy is such a thin pretense; everyone knows that helping me is the very last thing on her mind as she saunters over, but even the teacher doesn't lift a finger. After gathering up a few forgotten papers from one of the desks, the professor bustles out of the classroom, leaving Mia and I alone. Or so I think, until I notice third set of shoes out of the corner of my eye. Jarret was still here. Great. Really fantastic. The good news was that Mia wouldn't dare jinx me with a possible love interest standing nearby, fiddling absently with the shoulder strap on his bag. The bad news was that now I had one more witness to my teasing. “Here, Lia,” Mia offered, “Let me help you clean this up.” She sounded cheerful, but I could tell that she was clenching her teeth. She'd obviously hoped to hiss a few choice words at me and kick my bag so that its contents would be more messily strewn across the floor, but with Jarret present, she now had to feign manners and get creative. I could see her nose wrinkling as she knelt down next to me and slowly poked a bottle of ink back into my bag. She crumpled each paper as she picked it up and shoved it in my direction, all the while spouting an endless stream of sickly sweet chatter, about anything from homework to quidditch. I could see Jarret's ankles out of the corner of my eye, but I didn't dare look up at his face. Why hadn't he left yet? Did he take pleasure at my humiliation? I couldn't understand his motives. At last the floor was free of my clutter, and I scrambled to my feet before Mia could pretend to help me up. She got to her feet more gracefully than I, and was out the door before I had even taken a step. This confused me. She hadn't made a move to insult me. What was up? I take a few steps towards the door, reorganizing the contents of my bag. I come up short when I find an unfamiliar slip of paper. It's folded twice, and I recognize Mia's handwriting instantly as I open it up. [i]Freak,[/i] it reads as an introduction,[i] loser, loner, whatever you are.[/i] How very original. I'm about to throw it into the trash bin, when one of the later sentences catches my eye. [i]You're no better than an animal. My dog has more of a spine than you do. Do you always howl at the moon?[/i] My breath catches in my throat, and the note crinkles as I crumble it into my fist. Does she know? I hadn't said a word. [i]She can't know. [/i]She can't, she can't! [i]She knows.[/i] How can she possibly know?[i] How did she find out?[/i] Both the paper and my bag fall from my hands, and it's all I can do to contain my sobs as I tearfully flee the classroom.
DucksRMagical Joined: 28 December 2006 Posts: 2535 Location: Going through LeakyCon withdrawal	Posted: Friday 23 October 2009 03 03 13 pm    Post subject: Re: Albus potter and the Path Left Untrodden in topic:Albus potter and the Path Left Untrodden Chapter 6: Flobberworms and Boggarts As it turned out, Albus didn't have to wait until classes to know if Linda Morales was his age or not. Rose and Amanda burst out of the girls' dormitory as Albus, Matt, and John were heading down to breakfast. "Albus!" Rose caught up with him, "Linda is our age. She's in our dormitory." "Really?" Albus replied, realizing that he hadn't really thought about which dormitory the new students would be in. "Where is she now?" John asked. "Still up there," Amanda said, "She's been in the bathroom for ages." "Girls," John muttered, "I'll never understand them." The group hurried down to the Great Hall and ate a quick breakfast before their first class. Neville handed out schedules and Albus saw that he had Care of Magical Creatures first. "Blimey, this schedule is packed," John said as they headed out of the castle towards Hagrid's hut. "Well, we are taking two extra classes now," Albus pointed out. "Wonder who we'll have this class with," Matt said. "With our luck, it'll be the Slytherins," Amanda groaned. "Maybe Linda's taking this class," John said hopefully. Amanda sighed, "You haven't even met her." "Yeah, but this class would be the perfect time to do that!" John pointed out. Amanda groaned and they continued their trek to Hagrid's hut. Once they got there, they saw that they were indeed with the Slytherins. Albus groaned inwardly and stood with his friends as everyone waited for Hagrid to appear. "'Ello, everyone!" Hagrid said as he stepped out of his hut a few minutes later, "Welcome to Care o' Magical Creatures." "Hi, Hagrid," Albus grinned. "'Ello, Albus," Hagrid grinned back, "Now, today's lesson's abou' Flobberworms. Can anyone tell me anything abou' them?" Flobberworms, Albus thought. Flobberworms were about the least exciting magical creatures in the world. Albus wished they were doing something a bit more exciting. "Nobody?" Hagrid said, "Well, I know they aren't the most excitin' creatures, but we've got to start somewhere. Now, flobberworms are small white worms...." Albus listened as Hagrid explained about flobberworms, but he didn't take any notes. Rose would have, but Albus didn't see the point. Flobberworms were pretty basic. "Now, everyone can take a worm," Hagrid held up a box, "An' draw them into yer notes an' observe 'em." Albus and his friends each took a worm and began the tedious task of recording the worms' every movement and sketching them. Albus thought the rest of the class was rather boring and was a bit disappointed. He had kind of been expecting Hagrid to bring in some sort of dangerous creature, like he had when his dad was at Hogwarts. Although, come to think of it, his cousins had said Hagrid had adopted a more normal curriculum. "I wish Hagrid would bring in a dragon or something," John said as they made their way back to the castle for Transfiguration. "He probably wishes that, too," Albus laughed. The Transfiguration classroom was already filling up by the time Albus and his friends entered. Albus noticed that they had this class with the Hufflepuffs. Rose was already inside, sitting at her usual table in the front. Amanda quickly joined her. Linda was there as well, but she was sitting by herself at the other front desk. "Let's go sit by Linda!" John said excitedly. "Sure," Albus grinned and started to walk towards her table. "Wait," Matt said, "There's only two seats. And do you really want to sit in the front?" "Er, that's true," John said, "We'll sit behind her then." Albus vaguely wondered why Matt so set on not sitting with Linda, but he didn't dwell on it and sat down at the table behind Linda. Patil walked in a moment later and everyone quieted down. "For the first few classes we shall be learning about a very difficult branch of transfiguration," Patil said after she took attendance, "And it is called the Animagus Transfiguration. Can anyone tell me what that is?" Albus smirked as Rose's hand shot into the air. Albus knew the answer, of course, but he was perfectly happy to let Rose answer. "Yes, Miss Morales?" Patil pointed to Linda. Albus turned away from Rose and saw that Linda had half-way raised her hand. The rest of the class was staring at her as well, probably because Rose always answered the preliminary questions in class. "The Animagus Transfiguration is the act of transfiguring oneself into an animal," Linda answered. "Yes, that is correct," Patil smiled. Albus noticed that Rose was staring in shock at Linda. He had to stifle a laugh at this. Patil went on to describe Animagi in more detail and Albus took a few notes. "Can anyone name a registered Animagus they may have heard about in another class?" Patil asked. Both Rose and Linda's hands shot up into the air. Patil called on Rose this time. "Minerva McGonagall," Rose answered. "Yes, she turns into a cat. She used to teach Transfiguration here and was the Headmistress for a few years. How about an illegal Animagus?" Albus scribbled the words 'Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs' onto a piece of parchment and showed it to Matt and John. All three of them stifled laughter and then looked back up at Patil. "Rita Skeeter," Rose grinned. Patil smiled. "Yes, and it was your mother who discovered her." The rest of the class passed by at a reasonably quick pace and once it was over, Albus and his friends went to the Great Hall for lunch. "You've got some competition, Rose," John grinned as they walked down the corridor. "Shut up," Rose muttered. "She might beat you on the next test," John laughed. "And your point is?" Rose snapped. They walked the rest of the way in silence, as no one wanted to set Rose off even more. Albus had no idea she would get that competitive about grades. Although after two years of easily being the smartest in their year, Rose hadn't previously had any competition. Half the Gryffindor table was roaring with laughter when they arrived for lunch. James quickly filled Albus in on the fact that Hugo had exploded his first potion earlier in the morning and was apparently quite proud of it. "Well, you'll have no competition from him," John muttered to Rose. Rose sent him a withered look and sat down to eat. Albus spent lunch telling Kaden about Care of Magical Creatures. Despite the fact that they learned about flobberworms, Kaden was jealous. The third year Gryffindors had double potions after lunch, with the Slytherins again. Slughorn started the class with a review of the previous year's potions. Once again, Rose and Linda both knew the answer to every question. Then, when Slughorn had them brew a new potion, both Rose and Linda tied for best potion. Slughorn gave them each a bar of Honeyduke's chocolate. Albus was quite surprised that Linda seemed as smart as Rose. He had never met anyone his age who could compete with Rose with grades. John was right. Rose did have some competition. ****** "Well, time to go meet the new Defense teacher," Albus said as he finished breakfast the next morning. "I wish your dad was still teaching," Matt sighed. "Yeah," John agreed, "The new teacher looks like the kind of bloke who gives a lot of homework." "You really ought to just keep an open mind," Rose commented as they left the Great Hall. "Easy for you to say," John muttered, "You're freakishly smart." "You have got to be kidding me!" Albus groaned as they reached the classroom, "We're with the Slytherins, again!" "Great," Matt sighed, "Three years in a row, what are the chances of that?" Albus led the way into the classroom. Linda Morales was already seated at one of the front tables. Rose and Amanda immediately took the other front table. "Let's sit in the back," Matt muttered. Albus nodded. He really didn't want to sit near the front. The teacher was already there and was wearing an unreadable expression. If he turned out to be mean, Albus preferred to be as far away as possible. The classroom looked exactly the same as it had the year before, except for a trunk that was sitting in front of the teacher's desk. A few more students trickled in and once the bell rang, the teacher waved his wand and the door slammed loudly. Albus jumped in surprise and snapped his attention back to the new teacher. He walked slowly from behind his desk and stood in front of it. He was holding a piece of parchment and a quill. Albus noticed that he was wearing the same black robes, except now he noticed that there were intricately designed silver fastenings on them. "Please raise your hand and say 'present' when I call your name," he said in a stern voice. He ran through the list, fixing each student with a piercing gaze when he called on them. "Brilliant," he said flatly, "All here. I am Professor Balladanis, as you all know from Professor Kendrick's speech. You will address me as Professor Balladanis, or Professor, or Sir. I will not tolerate speaking out of turn or misbehavior of any kind in my classroom. I expect all homework and other assignments to be completed on time, no excuses." Professor Balladanis began to pace back and forth in front of his desk. "As you shall discover throughout the year, I take defensive magic very seriously." He paused and glared sharply at Linda and Janie Creevey, who had sat next to Linda. "Defensive magic is a very very important branch of magic. I would make the argument that is the most important. It can save your life. It has saved my life on numerous occasions. I have no doubt that your previous two years of instruction were very extensive and I am sure you all have a basic knowledge of defensive spells courtesy of Professor Potter." Balladanis stopped pacing and paused before continuing his speech. "However, the third year Defense Against the Dark Arts curriculum focuses on defense against dark creatures." He turned to Albus's table and gave Albus, Matt, and John a piercing stare. "I will be continuing the curriculum that has been used in this school since after the final battle," Balladanis continued, "I have looked over the curriculum and have deemed it satisfactory. I immensely approve of the first day's lesson for third years. I've always thought a practical approach was good for Defense, although I do expect you to carefully read your text book as well. "In this box," Balladanis gestured to the trunk, which jumped a little as he touched it, "Lives a boggart. Can anyone tell me what a boggart is?" Rose and Linda's hands shot up into the air. Balladanis smirked and pointed to Rose. "Yes, Miss...?" "Weasley, sir," Rose replied, "A boggart is a shape shifter. It takes the form of whatever scares you most. No one knows what one really looks like." Balladanis nodded. "Correct. 5 points to Gryffindor. Boggarts," he began pacing again, "Take the form of whatever scares us most. The boggart focuses on the nearest person and turns into whatever scares them. "We will have an advantage over our boggart. There are a lot of us, which means the boggart will become confused about what to turn into. However, that is not enough. There is a necessary incantation for defeating boggarts. It is 'Riddikulus'. Repeat after me, 'Riddikulus'." "Riddikulus," Albus said along with everyone else. "Good," Balladanis said, although his voice wasn't exactly cheerful, "You'll also need to think of a way to turn whatever your most feared thing is into something funny. Laughter is what really finishes off a boggart. Then, think of that as you're saying the incantation. Now, take out your wands and stand up." Albus pulled his wand out of his bag and stood up. He wasn't even sure what he was most afraid of. Snakes? No, he really didn't fear snakes. Spiders? Nope, not them either. He had no idea what that boggart was going to turn into, and that made it even scarier. Balladanis waved his wand and all the tables and chairs moved to the sides of the classroom. "Form a line," he instructed. Everyone pushed to be at the front of the line. Albus wound up being towards the back, behind John and in front of Matt. "Miss Weasley," Balladanis motioned for Rose to step forward, "Perhaps you could go first." Rose nodded and stepped out of the line. She stood in front of the trunk with her wand raised. Albus had no idea what the boggart would turn into for Rose either. Nor did he have a clue what John and Amanda's boggarts would be. He had an inkling about Matt's, though. Balladanis stood off to the side and pointed his wand at the trunk. The lid slowly opened and out stepped...Neville. Albus gaped at the boggart. The boggart Neville opened his mouth. "I'm sorry, Rose, you did not get the highest grades in your year. You've been beaten." Oh, Albus thought, that kind of made sense. For a moment there, Albus actually thought Rose was afraid of Neville, which was ridiculous. "Riddikulus!" Rose shouted. The boggart Neville swayed, but didn't look any different. He opened his mouth again. "Rose, you have beaten everyone in the entire school! You have the best grades in the history of Hogwarts." Albus smirked. It wasn't entirely funny, but it fit Rose perfectly. "Interesting," Balladanis muttered, "Next!" Rose stood off to the side and grinned as Amanda stepped forward. Albus watched as the boggart turned into a very large snake. Amanda stared at it for a few moments and then shouted, "Riddikulus!" The snake twirled around and tied itself into a knot. Amanda, along with most of the rest of the class, burst out laughing. Amanda stepped to the side next to Rose and Janie Creevey stepped forward. Janie's boggart turned into a giant rat, which then got transformed into tiny mouse. A few Slytherins were up after her, and then it was Linda Morales's turn. Albus watched intently as the boggart that had previously been a dragon turn into a raging fire. Linda raised her wand and shouted, "Riddikulus!" The fire turned into a waterfall and Linda joined the growing group of students off to the side. Marina Jordan-Bell was next, and her boggart turned into a spider, as did her sister, Karina's. Karina had a bit of trouble, but eventually managed to turn the spider rainbow colors. Ethan and a couple of the Slytherins had difficulty as well. Leigh Montague charmed her mummy boggart into a strait jacket and then it was John's turn. He stepped forward and the mummy turned into a clown. A clown, complete with a big red nose and huge shoes. Albus could hear a few of the other students snickering already. Albus wasn't exactly a fan of clowns, but he could think of at least ten things that were scarier than them. "Riddikulus!" John shouted. The clown boggart started to walk forward, but it tripped over its ridiculously large feet, which were growing at an alarming rate. The entire class burst out in the loudest laughter yet as John joined Rose and Amanda. Albus took a deep breath and stepped forward. The clown with the huge feet started spinning again and when it stopped, it looked like Professor Oteski. The Oteski boggart stepped towards Albus. "You did not make the Hogwarts Quidditch team," it said. Albus gulped. Come to think of it, that was what he was most afraid of at that moment. But how could he make it funny. He racked his brains as the Oteski boggart continued walking towards him. "Riddikulus!" Albus shouted. The boggart spun around again and then stopped. "You did make the team!" it said, "In fact, everyone is on the team! All of Hogwarts will play at once and therefore win the competition!" Albus laughed at the thought of a Quidditch team consisting of over 200 people on it and joined John at the side of the classroom. Albus watched as Matt stepped forward. "Hey, Potter," Scorpius whispered, "I bet the boggart won't know what to turn into with Eckerton. He's afraid of everything." "Shut it, Malfoy," Albus growled. "Quiet over there!" Balladanis shouted. Albus immediately shut his mouth and Scorpius didn't say anything else. The boggart was spinning around again and when it stopped, it didn't turn into the bright full moon that Albus had been expecting. It had turned into a very sinister looking man. He was skinny and rather short and had a mop of untidy brown hair on his head. It wasn't like Roberts's hair, though. This bloke's hair was stringy and dirty looking. His eyes were piercing, not unlike Balladanis's, and he was sneering at Matt. Albus didn't recognize who it was. He hadn't seen anyone that resembled the boggart. The boggart stepped slowly towards Matt, who looked frozen in place. Albus could see his wand shaking in his hand. "Who's that bloke?" John whispered. "No idea," Albus said. Albus continued to watch as the boggart advanced towards Matt. Balladanis wasn't doing anything besides watching with an unreadable expression on his face. The boggart was now only a couple feet away from Matt, who still wasn't doing anything. The boggart began to slowly raise its hands and muttered something that Albus couldn't quite catch. At that moment, Matt seemed to unfreeze. He stepped back and all of a sudden ran towards the door. He wrenched it open and disappeared from the room. Everyone who had already faced the boggart started whispering amongst themselves Albus turned to John, who shrugged. Albus couldn't even begin to imagine why Matt was afraid of that strange man, but he could sense that it went beyond a normal fear. "I'm going after him," Albus whispered to John. John nodded and Albus ran from the room without asking Balladanis or even looking back at him. Albus could hear Balladanis trying to quiet the rest of the students down as he walked quickly down the corridor. Matt wasn't anywhere to be found. Albus continued to walk down the corridor, not really knowing where he was going. Where would Matt go? The dormitory? Room of Requirement? Marauder's Den? That was it, Albus thought. That's where Matt would go. After all, only a few people knew about that. Albus walked through the empty corridors, thankful that nobody else was wandering around. He glanced at his watch. There was only ten minutes left in class. The fifth floor corridor was also deserted. Albus quickly pulled up the arm on the appropriate suit of armor and then searched the opposite wall for the tiny paw prints. He found them and glanced up and down the corridor once more before wrenching the door open. The room looked empty when Albus stepped inside. In fact, it looked just like they left it at the end of the previous year. Albus hadn't been in it for months. He quietly walked further into the room and headed straight for Matt's alcove. Matt was sitting on his four-poster bed, just staring directly at the wall in front of him. Albus wordlessly sat down on the bed, not sure of what to say. Matt didn't even acknowledge the fact that Albus was there. Either that or he didn't notice. "Er, are you ok?" Albus asked after a few moments of awkward silence. Matt looked over at him. He didn't look all right. His face was pale white. "I guess," he said quietly, "But everyone probably thinks I'm afraid of everything now. Nobody else ran out of the room." "Maybe everyone else's boggarts weren't as scary," Albus suggested. "Maybe," Matt muttered. Albus heard the door open and he craned his head around to see that Rose, John, and Amanda had come inside. John and the girls walked over to where Albus and Matt were. "We've got your bags," John said as he dropped Albus and Matt's bags on the floor. "Thanks," Albus replied. "Are you all right?" John asked Matt. "Yeah," Matt sighed. "What have we got next?" Albus asked. "Herbology," Rose answered, "And we'd better go if we don't want to be late." "Are you coming?" Albus asked Matt. "Yeah," Matt got up off the bed, "Let's go. I just hope we don't have it with the Slytherins. I'd bet my last Galleon that Malfoy's going to make fun of me for this for rest of the year." Albus would have been willing to bet that as well. Fortunately, the third year Gryffindors had Herbology with the Ravenclaws that year. A few of the other Gryffindors stole quick glances at Matt during the beginning part of the class, but nobody said anything to him. Neville quizzed them about a few plants they had learned about the previous year for a few minutes. Rose and Linda answered all of them. Then he gave a broad overview of what they'd be doing that year.
FawkesthePhoenix Joined: 31 December 2006 Posts: 3534 Location: No idea, all I know is that there are a LOT of felt-tipped pens...	Posted: Wednesday 2 September 2009 09 41 29 pm    Post subject: Re: Some Secrets in topic:Some Secrets Thanks for everyone's support, and here's the next chapter! Chapter 1: “Will I be better in time for class?” I ask Madam Pomfrey as she doles out potions and bandages like fliers at some sick convention, not entirely sure what I hope she'll say. “Probably not, dearie.” the nurse says apologetically, patting my shoulder with a soft smile. “Alright.” I mutter, leaning back against the headboard of the bed I sit on. The bed I always sit on. The bed I always will sit on, after every full moon for the rest of my time at Hogwarts. I try not to be bitter. It's a challenge. I try to blame others. It's a challenge. I know I can only truly blame myself. It was I who went outside to stargaze on the night of the full moon, my six-year-old self feeling quite rebellious as I crept out to the lawn. Then came the lashing pain and vague screaming, waking up in St. Mungo's hospital weeks later. Now, eight years later, I still remember the pain of being bitten by a werewolf. Perhaps because I relive pain just as terrible each month in my own personal hell called the Shrieking Shack. Located beneath a rather violent tree on Hogwarts grounds, it's been the backdrop of my misery each and every full moon since I came. Madam Pomfrey says there's only ever been one werewolf here before. I wonder what would happen if another came to school now. Would they build another shack? I blink away my reverie as a student walks in, looking at me curiously as she cradles her hand against her chest. “I slammed my finger in the bathroom stall,” she explains as Madam Pomfrey turns her attention away from me, “and it hurts really badly.” I repress a snort with difficulty, earning another strange look from the girl. She thought that hurt? That was nothing. I'd slam my fingers in a door every day if it meant that I'd never have to turn into the wolf again. Madam Pomfrey heals the student in no time and sends her on her way. I sigh, closing my eyes against the bright light of the hospital setting. “Is your head bothering you?” Madam Pomfrey asks with concern. “I'm fine,” I say, even though it's a lie. I'm far from fine. “Have my parents owled yet?” “Not yet,” Madam Pomfrey says, her brow furrowing slightly, “but I'm sure they will any minute now.” she attempts to console me, but I am not fooled. I don't know why I still wait eagerly for my parents' letters after each full moon, despite the fact that they'd never done me any good in the past. The criteria is so familiar that I could very well write one myself. Sorry you're hurt. Get well soon. We'll be in touch. Don't tell anyone. As if I ever would. I know better than to think anyone would understand. If my parents have taught me one thing, it's that people aren't to be trusted, that I can never share my secret with anyone. They're living testaments to such a lesson. I remember when my parents used to be unafraid of being near me, if only vaguely. Before I got bitten. Before the werewolf took away their child. Because the don't see me that way anymore. Their daughter Lia is dead to them, though I still live and breathe. This is a fact I've long gotten used to. Madam Pomfrey bustles about, preparing potions for me, to speed the healing process, as she does every month. It works just fine, but even with magic, the injuries take their toll. As more students come and go throughout the day, I sit on the bed, being resignedly bored with the day. At around supper-time Madam Pomfrey deems me well enough to go, and I leave as quickly as I can, loathe to sit and stare at the all to familiar walls one more instant. I walk briskly down the corridors to the Great Hall, avoiding eye contact with everyone that passes by. These habits have become second nature to me in the last four years. No one wants to talk to the loner girl with the mysterious injuries, and pretending otherwise is just setting yourself up for disappointment. Upon arriving at the Great Hall I face the daily predicament of where to sit. The vast number of students in Hufflepuff house make it virtually impossible to sit by yourself without anyone next to you. Normally, I try to secure a seat on the end so I can turn myself away from the student next to me and avoid the penetrating looks shot by my fellows in favor of the floor and staff table. The major problem with this plan is the risk of being shoved straight off the bench onto the floor, in the event that someone tries to squeeze their way onto an obviously full seat in the hopes that if they feign ignorance at the lack of space, then an empty seat will magically appear, saving them from the horror of having to sit on the other side of the table. No such luck today. The Great Hall is packed to the breaking point as I walk in late, trying to avoid making eye-contact with anyone at the other house tables as I walk past. After sumptuous moments of persistent awkwardness, I finally manage to sit between two first years, both of whom completely ignore me in the scramble to secure the largest piece of pie as dessert rolls around. I eat in silence, as I always do, and leave the moment the remnants of food have disappeared from the now spotlessly sparkling plates. The halls are almost entirely empty as I walk back to the Common Room; the only exceptions are a few ghosts that drift silently past and Peeves, the poltergeist, who I manage to avoid by ducking into a broom cupboard as he floats past, blowing loud raspberries and throwing pieces of chalk at the walls. I reach the entrance to the Common Room in no time, and the plush room bedecked in yellow and black greets me like an old friend as I grab my homework and take a seat by the fire. I work steadily through my Potions essay, then move on to Transfiguration as students begin to trickle into the Common Room in twos and threes, none of whom make any acknowledgment of my presence, instead choosing to talk among themselves and act as if the armchair by the fire is contaminated by the plague that is me. It's not that they think lycanthropy is contagious; no, none of them have a clue as to why I spend days in the Hospital Wing every month. But the structural laws of school dictate that people who are different must be singled out, and so it shall be. I don't doubt that few could even name my hair-color, much less my name. Due to the extreme lack of distractions, my homework is soon done to perfection, and I take to staring off into the distance, my eyes glazed over as I think about nothing and everything at the same time. A flutter of movement by the window catches my eye, and I stare fixedly at the glass, wondering what on earth had lured my attention over there. The view is the same as it always was; sloping grass, the Whomping Willow, and a fleeting view of the Greenhouses. I start to get to my feet, planning on walking over to investigate what had distracted me, when a voice comes from behind me. I jump, sending my books tumbling off my lap onto the carpet in front of the fire. “Nice one, Lia.” I turn to glare at the speaker, who I now recognize as Mia Filisia, one of my prime tormentors. I pick up my books as quickly as possible, trying to ignore Mia as she continues on snidely, “If you were any clumsier you'd have to admitted to St. Mungos. Not that it matters. You go there every week anyway.” I know better than to reply, and instead stalk off to the Girl's Dormitory, where I seclude myself in my four-poster bed. I've long gotten used to this nightly ritual, and it doesn't bother me much anymore. The Dormitory is empty and quiet, the way I like it. Whenever anyone else is in the place I have to listen to the other girls talk about their traumatic love lives, and how they're going to suffocate under the mountain of homework we've all been getting. I never join in on the complaining; a couple Arithmency essays are hardly the worst of my problems. I sigh quietly to myself and attempt to sleep. My dreams are plagued with horrors as usual; the only time I ever have pleasant sleep these days is when Madam Pomfrey gives me a potion for it. * * * I wake up the next day in the same fashion I always do. Having finally broke free of my nightmares, I lie in bed gasping for breath and covered in a nervous sweat. Blinking away the night's gruesome images, I get up quietly, glancing outside as I pass one of the room's windows. It's cloudy, but dry so far. I take a quick shower, get dressed, and then it's off to the Great Hall for yet another awkward breakfast. I snag a seat at the end of the table, with a seventh year I don't know sitting to my left. I eat quickly, avoiding eye contact with anyone, especially other fourth years, and then head to Transfiguration, the first class of the day. Due to my speed-eating, I'm the first one there. I sit down at a table in the back corner of the classroom, hoping no one will notice me when they come in. But no such luck. Mia Filisia, having been the first to come in after me, quickly spots my presence and saunters over with a fake smile. “Hey, Lia!” she says, sickly sweet as she sits down. “Looks like we're the first people here!” “Yeah.” I mumble, studying the desk's surface closely. She only sits next to me when she doesn't do her homework. “Oh, shoot,” Mia says, looking through her bag, though I know very well she isn't really looking for anything. If she really thought she had her essay, she wouldn't be paying an ounce of attention to me, other than to shoot me the occasional dirty looks throughout class. “I can't find my homework! Lia, can I just take a peek at yours?” “No.” I say. My, but this desk is interesting. “Oh, come on! Aren't we friends?” “No.” Someone chiseled a declaration of love onto this desk. “Lia! I must say, I'm hurt.” “Sorry.” Looks like they did it with their fingernails, it's not very well done. “Well, I hope you change your mind. I want to be your friend, not your enemy!” Liar. Mia gets to her feet elegantly, before anyone else can arrive. It just wouldn't do to be seen with me, even if the sole purpose of such and interaction is to demand credit for my work. I continue staring at the desk until the teacher arrives, at which point I begin taking careful notes on the lecture, if only to distract myself from all the glares I'm attracting. News travels fast, and apparently it's a crime punishable by death to refuse Mia Filisia my homework. Suffice to say the class passes by slowly. I'm out of my seat the minute the bell rings, and halfway to my next class before the others even begin to notice I've left. Not that they're paying any attention. No one ever does.
DucksRMagical Joined: 28 December 2006 Posts: 2535 Location: Going through LeakyCon withdrawal	Posted: Sunday 17 May 2009 01 05 25 pm    Post subject: Re: In Moonlight's Shadow in topic:In Moonlight's Shadow Thanks hprocks! Chapter 47: First Day Five girls were already inside. Three of them were hanging up posters and giggling with each other. The other two were whispering with each other on one of the beds. I stepped inside and a floorboard creaked beneath my feet. All five girls looked up at me. "This would explain the sixth bed," a tall, skinny girl with waist-length dark brown hair said as she jumped off the bed she was standing on. "So, you're new here?" one of the other giggling girls, with short black hair, said. I nodded and walked over to the bed that had my trunk at the foot of it. I pulled back the curtains and sat down, not sure what to do. The other girls just stared at me. None of them went back to their conversations. "I'm Seren Frazier," the tall girl announced as she walked towards me. "Samantha Meyers," the girl with the short black hair said. "Yeah, and don't call her Sam or Sammy," Seren laughed, "Or she'll kill you." "Naw," Samantha smirked, "I'll just hex you." "Alyssa Brown," the third giggling girl hopped off her bed and walked over to me with her curly light brown hair bouncing behind her. "Victoire Weasley," one of the whispering girls, who had very long blonde hair and looked a lot like the blonde girl I shared a carriage with, smiled from her bed. Weasley, I thought. She must be related to the two first years who practically got a standing ovation when they were sorted. "Monica Kramer," the other whispering girl said. She had very curly dark brown hair and wore glasses. I nodded. Six people in one dormitory. I seriously hoped none of them snored or I would never get to sleep. "What's your name?" Seren asked. "Amy Eckerton," I muttered. "Why did you move here?" Samantha sat down on the bed next to mine and looked at me curiously, "I've never heard of anyone transferring schools for their fourth year." "Yeah, and where did you live before?" Alyssa asked. "When did you get sorted?" Monica asked. I squeezed my eyes shut and then opened them. Everyone was looking at me curiously. This was what I wasn't looking forward to. The demanding questions, curious stares. It was giving me a headache and I knew I'd have to do it all again tomorrow. "I moved here from Australia," I answered, "My dad changed jobs. I was sorted over the summer." I had decided earlier that I wouldn't tell anyone Dad got fired. That would raise more questions. People would ask why he was fired. "Australia?" Seren looked impressed, "Wow, you came a long ways." "What job does your dad have?" Samantha asked. "He works in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures at the Ministry," I replied. "My dad works for the Ministry, too," Samantha said, "Muggle-Worthy Excuse Department." "So, what do you know about Hogwarts?" Alyssa asked, "We'll tell you all about the professors." "Yeah," Seren agreed, "You'll want to stay away from Washburn. He hates Gryffindors, but nobody knows why." "Slughorn's nice, but don't get into his Slug Club," Alyssa shook her head, "Bloody hell, I'll never go to one of those again." "They're not that bad," Victoire said. "Well, you actually like Potions," Alyssa laughed. "But I'm horrible at it," Victoire sighed. "No, you're not," Monica groaned, "You've got the best grade out of all of us." "So, do you play Quidditch?" Samantha asked eagerly. "No," I shook my head, "I hate flying." Samantha looked taken aback. "Oh, well, that's too bad. I'm a Chaser for Gryffindor." "What do you like?" Seren asked. "Er, Astronomy. And Potions," I said quietly. "Those are my two least favorite classes," Alyssa laughed, "Well, those and History of Magic." "Do you at least follow professional Quidditch?" Samantha asked, "What's your favorite team?" "Australia, I guess," I said, "Look, I think I just want to go to bed." The constant questions were driving me mad. I was already deprived of sleep and that wasn't helping my mood. I located my pajamas and headed into the bathroom. When I returned, the other girls had gone back to what they were doing before I entered the room. Seren and Samantha looked up at me as I walked back to my bed, but nobody said anything, which I was grateful for. I climbed into my new bed and buried myself under the covers. I stared up at the scarlet colored ceiling and listened to the quiet voices of my new roommates. Despite the tight quarters, I felt more alone than ever before. Eventually the chattering and giggling stopped and I heard beds creaking. Someone turned out the light. I turned over and stared at the bed hangings until my eyes adjusted to the dark. There was a small amount of moonlight streaming in through the window next to my bed and it shown through the curtains around my bed. The moon was the one constant thing in my life. No matter where I was, the moon always shown through my bedroom window. My house in Australia, my dormitory in Australia, my room at Richard and Cinda's, Uncle Jack's house, my house in England, and now Hogwarts. Despite my fatigue, I couldn't get to sleep. I kept thinking about classes the next day and I couldn't clear my mind. Then, somebody started snoring. I had no way of telling who it was, but it was so loud that even putting my pillow over my ears didn't help. I needed a muffling charm. I'd have to look one up in the library the next day. If I could find the library, that is. I groaned and sat up in bed. This was hopeless. I'd never get to sleep in my dormitory. I quietly slipped out of bed and out the door. The common room was cold and empty when I got there. It had already been cleaned, too. It must have been really late. I curled up on one of the scarlet couches and closed my eyes. The room was so quiet, just how I liked. Somehow it made me feel even more lonely, though. I squeezed my eyes shut even tighter and felt tears streaming down my cheeks. ****** "Hey, Aussie Eckerton," someone said. I snapped my eyes open and quickly closed them again as I was blinded by sunlight. I sat up slowly and rubbed my eyes. Ted Lupin was standing next to the couch smirking to himself. There was another bloke next to him. He was a bit taller than Ted, with shaggy brown hair that my mum would say needed to be cut. Both of them were in their school robes and had bags over their shoulders. "Er, hi," I muttered. "Why are you sleeping down here?" Ted asked with an amused look on his face. "Um, couldn't sleep," I replied. "Oh, this is Landon Comer," Ted gestured to the other boy. "Nice to meet you," I said as I got up from the couch. "You too," Landon replied, "But since I'm a Prefect, I have to let you know that technically you're not supposed to sleep in the common room. Since you're new, I'll let it slide this once." "Thanks," I blushed. Figures, I broke a rule my first night there. "Classes start in fifteen minutes, Aussie," Ted told me. I groaned inwardly and muttered goodbye to Ted and Landon. I ran back up the stairs and to my dormitory. None of the other girls were there, but that didn't surprise me. I threw on robes and crammed all of my books into my bag. I then realized I had no idea which classes I had that day. I groaned out loud and ran back to the common room, hoping that Ted or Landon would still be there. They were just leaving as I entered. "Ted!" I shouted. Ted looked back at me. "What is it?" "Um, how do I know where my classes are?" I asked as my cheeks reddened again. "Longbottom, he's our head of house, has the schedules in the Great Hall. You'd better hurry, though." "Thanks," I muttered as I rushed past them and out into the hallway. I didn't really remember how to get to the Great Hall, but since it was on the first floor and Gryffindor Tower was on the top, I figured I should just run down all the flights of stairs I found. This method worked and I was soon in the deserted Great Hall. A few of the professors were still milling about, but I had no idea which one was Longbottom. I grabbed a piece of toast from the Gryffindor table and hoped that someone would see me there and give me a schedule. A man with blonde hair shaping his round face walked over to me. I hoped he was Longbottom. "Hello. I'm Professor Longbottom. You must be Amy?" he asked. "Yes, sir," I replied. "Welcome to Gryffindor," he smiled, "I'm your head of house and I teach Herbology. Here's your schedule." "Thanks," I said as I took the piece of parchment he handed me. "Well, I've got to get to class and you should, too. I'll see you soon," he said and then left the room. I shoved the rest of the toast into my mouth and glanced down at my new schedule. Potions was first, in the dungeons. Well, that was pretty straight forward. Dungeons were obviously underground, so all I had to do was find another set of stairs. I left the empty Great Hall and looked around for another staircase. I found a door that was labeled 'dungeons' and wrenched it open. I followed a dank staircase into an even danker stone corridor. Looked like dungeons to me. I ran down the corridor until I found the classroom. The door was shut. Great, I thought, the class had already started. I opened the door as quietly as I could, but I knew there would be no way to slip in unnoticed. "The directions are on the board-" the professor said and then turned to the door. He was a short, round man with no hair on his head and a very prominent grey mustache. "Are you Amy Eckerton?" he asked. I nodded, but didn't move from the doorway. The entire class was staring at me. From the looks of it, the class consisted of Gryffindors and Slytherins. To my dismay, I recognized Quinton Willinson. He was sitting in the front row and for some odd reason was smiling wryly at me. "Well, my name is Professor Slughorn and I will forgive your tardiness as this is your first day." The whole class erupted in whispers at 'first day'. "You can take a seat next to Mr. Willinson," Slughorn gestured to the vacant seat in the front row, "He can inform you about today's potion." I nodded and reluctantly walked over to Willinson's table. Why did that have to be the only empty place in the room? I made a mental note to get to Potions earlier the next time. I really didn't want my favorite class spoiled by a creepy bloke. "We're brewing Wit-Sharpening Potion," Willinson announced, "It's a very advanced potion for fourth years, not usually learned until later in the year, but Slughorn likes to give challenges on the first day. We're having a contest. Whoever brews the best potion gets chocolate. I usually win all the contests since I'm the best brewer in the fourth year." I raised my eyebrow at him. He was even more arrogant than I had originally thought. I didn't think so much arrogance could be put in one sentence, but apparently it could. He was in for a surprise, though. I had taught myself how to brew Wit-Sharpening Potion months ago. I set my cauldron down on the table and lit a fire underneath it. I avoided Willinson's gaze as I got up and joined the queue of students at what I assumed was the storage closet. Willinson followed me and collected his own ingredients. I returned to the table and began to prepare mine. "How do you like Gryffindor?" Willinson asked. "It's fine," I muttered as I tossed a few beetles into my cauldron and raised the flame. "You'd be happier in Slytherin," he drawled. "I doubt that," I told him. "You should chop those lacewing flies into smaller pieces," Willinson announced and pointed to his own, "Like mine." I glared at him. "Mine are perfectly fine," I said shortly. "Just thought you'd like some advice from a master potions brewer," he shrugged, "Australia might be behind Hogwarts in terms of potion brewing." "No fourth year could be considered a 'master potions brewer,'" I smirked, "And Australia is not behind Hogwarts in potion brewing." I stirred my lacewing flies into my cauldron and the potion turned the appropriate emerald green color. I glanced at Willinson's cauldron and saw that his potion was more of a forest green. I smirked and began to mince my anise. "Ah, wonderful, Miss Eckerton!" Slughorn grinned as he peered into my cauldron, "Your potion is the exact shade of green it should be at this point. You might want to take note of what Miss Eckerton is doing, Mr. Willinson." I grinned and turned to Willinson, who was turning a purplish color. He hastily added another few lacewing flies in an attempt to change the color, but his potion turned slightly yellow instead of emerald green. "Looks like another for the Slug Club," I heard someone whisper from behind me. If the Slug Club meant I was the best potion brewer in the class, I was fine with it. "Told you my lacewing flies were the appropriate size," I told Willinson. "But, but-" he stuttered, "Fine, your lacewing flies are the right size. But your anise is too finely chopped." "It is not," I groaned, "And I prefer not to talk while I brew." I ignored him from that moment on. I could feel his eyes on me, but figured he'd stop talking if I stopped responding. Slughorn walked around the room and looked at everyone's potion near the end of the double period. Willinson was looking very smug as he stood next to his potion, but I personally thought his potion was too thick. "Quinton, m'boy," Slughorn grinned and then peered into the cauldron, "Very nice. A bit too heavy on the anise. Put less in and your potion won't be so thick. It needs to be a tad thinner." I smirked as Slughorn moved onto my own potion. "Amy from Australia," Slughorn said as he looked in my cauldron, "Well, it seems that they do know their potions in the land down under! Excellent work. I believe you have won the chocolate." Slughorn produced a very large bar of chocolate and gave it to me. I said thank you and pocketed it. So far, potions was a great class at Hogwarts. I got to brew and I got chocolate for it. "So, you think you're better at Potions than me?" Willinson said as we left the room after cleaning up. "I never said that," I snapped. He was really getting on my nerves. "I learned how to brew that potion months ago, if you must know." "Don't bother," Victoire Weasley appeared next to me, "He's not worth arguing with." "Victoire!" Willinson grinned, "Will you go to Hogsmeade with me this year?" "Not a chance, Willinson," Victoire growled, "And give up already, I'm never going to." Victoire sped up and walked ahead of us with Monica. I tried to get away from Willinson, but he kept following me. Why was it that the only person in the entire school who seemed to want to be friends with me was mental? "What else do you know how to brew?" Willinson asked as we climbed the stairs to the Entrance Hall. I rattled off a few potions that I had brewed recently. Quite a few of them were ones in the fourth year curriculum at Hogwarts. "Oh, er, I can brew all of those as well," Willinson stuttered. I kind of doubted that, but nodded anyway. "Well, that's good." I managed to shake him when we got to the Great Hall and I went to the Gryffindor table and he went to the Slytherin table. I ate a quiet lunch and then glanced at my schedule and saw that I had History of Magic next. I waited until I saw Seren, Samantha, and Alyssa get up from the table to get up myself. I had no idea where the History of Magic classroom was, so I figured it would be a good idea to just follow them. I walked a few feet behind them and they didn't notice me. I sat down at one of the tables in the back and pulled out a roll of parchment, ink, and a quill. The classroom filled up quickly and two Gryffindor boys I didn't know sat down at my table. It looked like we shared that class with the Ravenclaws. The two boys at my table were goofing around with each other and weren't acting like they were ready to sit through a class. I edged away and tried to keep a healthy distance in between them and myself. A few moments later, a ghost floated through the blackboard. I gaped and nearly fell out of my chair. I looked around the room, but nobody else seemed at all surprised by this. The two boys at my table stopped messing around. I picked up my quill and continued to gawk at the well, ghostly, professor. All the professors at the Australian School of Sorcery were alive. I had never heard of a ghost professor before. "This year we'll be moving onto modern history of magic in Britain," the professor said in a very monotone voice, "We'll start with the late nineteenth century. At this time, witches and wizards all over Britain were dealing with the beginnings of what is now known as the Gringotts Strike of 1892...." I scrambled to write down everything he said. He didn't waver at all in the tone of his voice and he spoke at the same constant rate. He didn't pause at all for people to take notes, or even to breathe. Of course, he didn't really need to pause for breath. Nor did he write any of the notes on the board, but he probably couldn't pick up the chalk. This was one of the classes I had been worried about. I knew absolutely nothing about British history of magic. Everyone else in the room had grown up in England and probably heard about this stuff before. I hadn't. My hand was hurting before the class was even half over. I had already written a quarter of a roll of parchment, and the teacher had yet to take a break. I knew I was missing information and I probably wouldn't even be able to read my notes. I shook out my hand and glanced around the room. Hardly anyone else was taking notes. A few Ravenclaws were, but none of the Gryffindors were. A few were whispering to each other and passing notes. A quarter of the class had their heads down on their tables. "For three years, half the goblins at Gringotts refused to let people access their vaults resulting in a depression like state for hundreds of witches and wizards..." the ghost droned on. I looked at the clock and groaned. The class was only half over. The teacher's voice was so monotone that I wasn't surprised people were falling asleep. I could feel my own eyes beginning to droop. A half hour later I shoved my illegible notes into my bag and left the room as fast as I could. I knew it already. I was going to fail History of Magic. I bit my lip and sped up. It was hopeless. Potions had been the exception. It was the only class at Hogwarts I would do all right in. Everything else I was bound to be behind in, especially History of Magic. How was I supposed to pass that class when I couldn't even take decent notes? How did everyone else manage it? Nobody took notes. Nobody even paid attention. I pulled out my schedule again and saw that I had Herbology next. The last thing I felt like doing was finding the greenhouses and sitting through another class. I walked down flights of stairs until I finally got to the Entrance Hall. I left the castle and gazed about the grounds. I hadn't seen them in the daylight in months. I saw a few buildings that looked like greenhouses in the distance and started down a path I hoped would lead to them. I breathed a sigh of relief as they came into sight. Professor Longbottom was standing in front of the greenhouse on the right and waved to me. "Hello, Amy," he smiled, "How's the first day going?" I shrugged. "As expected." "Well, if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask," he said, "You can go on inside and find a seat." I nodded and walked into the greenhouse. It didn't look that different than the ones in Australia, although some of the plants were different. Of course, I thought, Britain probably had different magical plants. More stuff I'd be clueless about. There were a few other students in the greenhouse. I found an empty seat and slumped down in it. The greenhouse slowly filled up and a short Hufflepuff sat down next to me. Her hair was dirty blonde with purple streaks in it. She had put a few small ponytails throughout it and it was kind of messy. Her robes were askew and they revealed a tie-dye t-shirt underneath. "Hi!" she grinned at me, "I've never seen you before." "Hi," I replied, "Erm, I just moved here." "Really?" her eyes widened as she bounced in her seat, "That's brilliant! You'll love it here. Where did you move from?" "Australia," I told her. She was possibly the most hyper person I had met at Hogwarts so far. "I've always wanted to go there," she sighed, "Oh, I'm being rude. I'm Laney Hall." "Amy Eckerton," I replied. "Do you want to be my partner in class?" Laney asked excitedly, "We usually work in groups of two in Herbology, only there's an odd number of us so I usually work in a group of three. But since you're here now, there's an even number so you can work with me. Won't that be fun?" I nodded, although I wasn't sure about the 'fun' part. Laney ignored my lack of enthusiasm and began to rattle off a bunch of information about Hogwarts that I only partially paid attention to. Longbottom walked in a few minutes later and she shut up. By the end of the class I was feeling very happy that I had not wound up in Hufflepuff. Laney Hall was the most excitable person I had ever met and working with her for an hour was making me want to scream. She chattered on and on about anything and everything as we transplanted Flibbery Flowers from small single pots to large ones that housed five of the colorful flowers. Laney followed me back to the castle and continued talking about the importance of showing house spirit at Quidditch matches. I just nodded every once and a while, but didn't pay much attention. That's what I did the entire class as well. I breathed a sigh of relief when she bade me goodbye to go to the Hufflepuff common room while I continued up the stairs to Gryffindor tower.