𝔖𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔶 𝔯𝔢𝔭𝔢𝔞𝔱 𝔦𝔱𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣 | 𝐇𝐏 ʷᵗᵐ

𝟎𝟏𝟒; ᴛʀᴀɴsғɪɢᴜʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴄʟᴀss

COVENTINA WAS PISSED, it was merely the first day and her name
is being whispered everywhere. She should cut out every single one of those annoying pest's tongue.

"There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to the tall kid with the black hair."

"Did you see her face?"

"Did you see her scar?"

"I pity her, really." Andromeda mumbled softly.

"Sirius." James called out.

"Yes, prongs?" Sirius look at James
with confusion. "Write every names
of those brats." Sirius nod and took out a black textbook.

Remina sigh.

Whispers followed Coventina from the moment she left her room next day People queuing outside classrooms stood on tiptoe to get a look at her or doubled back to pass her in the corridors again, staring.

Coventina wished they wouldn't, because she was trying to concentrate on finding her way to classes. With Aelora who was also annoyed and Anastacius who kept his emotionless expression.

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.

Though Coventina and Anastacius memorized it perfectly well.

"What?! This is completely impossible." A Gryffindor frowns.

"Yes like, it's my fourth years and I did can't remember it well." Another Gryffindor complained.

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 Aelora was sure 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.

He would drop waste-paper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose and screech, 'GOT YOUR CONK!'

"Sometimes, I hate those ghosts."

"Me too."

"Me three."

"Me four."

"Me f-" Sirius interrupts them. "Alright! We get it!"

Even worse than Peeves, if that was possible, was the caretaker, Argus Filch. Granger and Weasley managed to get on the wrong side of him on their very first morning.

Filch found them trying to force their way through a door which unluckily turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor.

He couldn't believe they were lost, was sure they were trying to break into it on purpose and was threatening to lock them in the dungeons when they were rescued by Professor Quirrell, who was passing.