Stella Luna Snape (A Snape Daughter story)

Chapter 5

On Wednesday at midnight we had to study the night skies through a telescope and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. Three times a week we would have to go out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology with Professor Sprout. This is where we learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi, and find 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.*

*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 our first class he took the roll call, and when he reached Harry's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight.*

When it came to Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall she gave us a talking to the moment we 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."*

Professor McGonagall changed her desk into a pig and back again. But of course we weren't going to be changing furniture into animals for a long time. After taking a lot of complicated notes, were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle.

How hard could this be? Of course I was wrong.

Hermione Granger was the only one who had made any difference to her match. Professor McGonagall showed us how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave Hermione a rare smile.

The class I was dreading the most was Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Quirrell. My father and I both hate him.

Before I knew it, Friday had arrived and I was in the Great Hall during breakfast sitting next to Harry and Ron.

*"What have we got today?" Harry asked us as he poured sugar on his porridge.*

"Double Potions with the Slytherins." Ron and I said in sync.

*When the mail arrived Harry's owl Hedwig fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note onto Harry's plate. Harry tore it open at once. It said, in a very untidy scrawl:

Dear Harry,

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 week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig.

Hagrid

*Harry borrowed Ron's quill, scribbled. Yes, please, see you later on the back of the note, and sent Hedwig off again.*

*

Before I knew it I was in Potions class with my father. I decided to sit next to Draco, Crabbe and Goyle, since we haven't actually had a proper conversation since we arrived to Hogwarts.

Draco accepted the fact that I was put into Gryffindor and not Slytherin, telling me that I'm still the same person I was when he last saw me. The only thing different is that we are not in the same houses.

My father came in starting the class by taking roll call, pausing at Harry's name.

"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new - celebrity."

Draco, Crabbe and Goyle started laughing as my father finished roll call. I just ignored them knowing they probably didn't mean it.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making." Father started. "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."

"Potter!" Father said suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"I don't know, sir." Harry said.

"Tut, tut - fame clearly isn't everything." Father said completely ignoring Hermione who had her hand up.

Why was he acting like this? I guess I will ask him later.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" Father asked.

"I don't know, sir." Harry said once again.

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" Father said.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Father asked.

"I don't know." Harry said quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

I could tell father 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, father said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."