A Young Slytherin: A Barnaby Lee Story -Hogwarts Mystery

A Wrong Turning

The following Saturday, Barnaby was in a mad mood. It was the first quidditch match of the season and he was stuck in his common room finishing his potions essay. He was sure Snape had set the essay over the weekend on purpose, in the hopes that he could ruin a few of the students' weekends. It had worked in Barnaby's case.

He scowled as he crossed out the word wiggenweld, having misspelled it for the fifth time. In his frustration, he pushed too hard and the tip of his quill snapped off. He threw the quill down with a groan and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes with his palms.

The Slytherin common room was completely empty. It seemed everyone else had gone to the match. The only sound was the crackling of the fire, always lit to combat the damp chill of the dungeons. The shimmer of light bending from the lake water against the windows glimmered across his face.

He tried not to think about everyone else enjoying the quidditch match. The matches were one of Barnaby's favorite things about Hogwarts. Quidditch was exciting and simple; he never got bored or had to think. Cheering on the Slytherin team, a member of a united green and silver crowd, was one of the few times he felt like he belonged.

His stomach grumbled. Standing, he decided he'd worked hard enough for a break. He'd walk to the great hall. On Saturdays, the house-elves would often send up a few baked goods for students to snack on while they did homework. He didn't know if they still did this on quidditch days, but his rumbling stomach told him it was worth checking out.

Stepping through the opening to the common room, he nearly ran into Khanna, the bookish Gryffindor that was always hanging around with Spellman. As he stepped around her, he saw Spellman herself.

He walked by without speaking to them; he figured it was best not to talk to cursed people. He'd messed with enough cursed stuff growing up with his grandmother. He didn't want to have a chat with Spellman and then discover that he'd lost his sense of taste or that all his toes had fallen off.

As he made his way up to the great hall, he wondered what the girls had been doing in the dungeons, especially when they could be watching quidditch. It was no secret that Spellman was searching for the cursed vaults. Perhaps she'd discovered a clue that had led her down there.

Any thoughts about cursed vaults and wayward Gryffindors were driven from his mind at the smell of freshly baked banana-nut muffins. Barnaby spent a long time away from his common room. He didn't want to return to his essay. Once he'd eaten absolutely all the muffins he could handle, he reluctantly wiped his mouth and walked slowly back to the dungeon.

When he found his common room, Spellman and Khanna were gone. Upon entering, he was surprised to see the prefect Felix Rosier seated at one of the couches, fuming.

"What's up?" asked Barnaby.

"That cursed brat was caught sneaking around inside our common room!" said Rosier.

Barnaby was amazed. "How did she get in?"

"No idea. I saw her and another girl skulking about before the match. I figured something was up, so I came back to check up on them. Brought Snape with me. We caught her walking out!"

"What did Snape do to them?" If Snape caught a student breaking such a big rule, especially Spellman, whom he seemed to hate in particular, Barnaby wouldn't be surprised if Hogwarts had two less students in the morning.

"Nothing!" shouted Rosier. His face had gone a splotchy purple in his fury. "Snape didn't do a thing! Just sent them on their merry way. And then I got told of for questioning him!"

Barnaby couldn't remember a time he'd been so confused. He had no idea how Spellman could have found and entered the common room (he had a hard-enough time remembering where it was himself), let alone avoided punishment for getting caught.