The Return

Chapter 9: Classes Of A New Year And Memories

Harry and Luna both entered the hall, two of the very few people awake, both sitting down at Gryffindor table. "How are you feeling about today's classes Hazza?" Luna asked lightly.

 "Hazza? That's new," Harry mused, smirking slightly.

 "McGonagall is just about to hand me my time table, then I'll decide if it's good enough day. My day would only be perfect if there was double Potions, duelling and Defence Against The Dark Arts."

The witch in question passed them both, setting Salazar's time table in front of him.

"Miss Lovegood, shouldn't you be at Ravenclaw table? I'm pretty sure Filius is just about to hand out your agenda," McGonagall frowned.

"Professor McGonagall, I already have my plan for the day. And I'm not sitting at Ravenclaw table today, you see, Harry invited me here for breakfast. I do hope you have a great day Professor," She dismissed. 

Luna pulled out a piece of parchment from her robe pocket, unfolded it and handed it to McGonagall, who gave a incline of her head.

 "Very well. Don't be late for your classes."

"You handled that quite well," Harry said, taking a bite of his buttered toast with apple jam. The green apple of course. Not the filthy red colour Godric had picked out for his house. "I have, Divination, Transfiguration and Care for magical creatures. Not the best day."

"Ooo, I have double history of magic, Potions and Transfiguration. I wish I had Herbiology today though," Helga sighed at not having her best subject of all time. The hall started to fill in as a crowd of red, blue, green and yellow came in from two different directions. 

Why two?

 Couldn't it have just been one? 

Well during the founders time, Rowena and Godric had made their common rooms upstairs while Helga and Salazar decided the dungeons. 

The only question on your head must be, why? Am I right?

Here's the story...

...[Flashback to 990, Monday, 08:57 am]...

"You know what this school needs?" Rowena said to the others. "To not make any sense–"

"Rowena, I don't think–" 

Salazar got cut off by Rowena yelling in triumph "EXACTLY! You don't think! I'm brilliant and this is perfect. Moving staircases, walls that think they're doors–" she boasted.

"But how will the students get to class?" Helga asked in her soft voice while behind Rowena, Salazar was sticking up his middle finger at the brunette lady behind her back.

"They'll just have to figure it out. Every day." Rowena deadpanned. "Every day they will figure it out. My students will live in a tower and navigate these stairs every time." Helga was starting to think that her best friend was drunk or on drugs.

"The stairs MOVE Rowena! This doesn't seem safe! I think I'll put my common room in the basement!" Helga said weakly, twirling her golden hair out of her bluey-purple eyes. Rowena has either hit her head really hard on the counter or she drank too muck Fire whiskey. Drugs out of the option.

"Ditto. I think the dungeons would be safer," agreed Salazar , pursing his lips and standing straighter at the brunette's scrutinising glare, who caught him sticking up his longest finger at her back. Rowena looked like an angry, skinny pig wearing a tutu, as her nostrils flared and she puffed herself out.