It was practically impossible to get to class next morning. After having only a bit of toast for breakfast, Calysta and Harry were trying to get to their classes, only for them to be followed around by random students they didn't know like paparazzi. 

Harry was walking with Ron, and Calysta was walking or rather, running, with Jeff, Felix and Regulus, trying to find their first class of the day, which happened to be transfiguration. 

"There, look."

"Where?"

"The girl with the three boys."

"Did you see her face?"

"Did you see her scar?"

Calysta was fighting with herself about yelling at them that she could hear what they were saying, but debated against it, since she had more pressing matters to deal with.

Whispers followed her from the moment she left her dormitory the next day. People lining up outside classrooms stood on tiptoe to get a look at her, or doubled back to pass her in the corridors again, staring. She wished they wouldn't, because she was trying to concentrate on finding her way to classes.

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. 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 Calysta 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 wastepaper 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!"

After Calysta had her nose pulled and her hair yanked by Peeves, she swore she would teach him a lesson. She made a mental note to deal with him as soon as she got the free time. 

Even worse than Peeves, if that was possible, was the caretaker, Argus Filch. Calysta, Jeff, Regulus and Felix 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 that unluckily turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor. He wouldn'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.

Filch owned a cat called Mrs. Norris, a scrawny, dust-colored creature with bulging, lamp-like eyes just like Filch's. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put just one toe out of line, and she'd whisk off for Filch, who'd appear, wheezing, two seconds later. Filch knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone (except perhaps the Weasley twins) and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. The students all hated him, and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mrs. Norris a good kick. 

With Filch, Peeves and Mrs. Norris constantly hunting for a lost or rule-breaking student, it was practically impossible not only to get to class on time, but to sneak out after curfew.

And then, once you had managed to find them, there were the classes themselves. There was a lot more to magic, as Calysta quickly found out, than waving your wand and saying a few funny words. She was doing a good job so far, better than everyone in her year, except perhaps Hermione. She felt like the time she spent reading her school books during the summer proved useful. At least she wasn't completely blank slate.

They had to study the night skies through their telescopes every Wednesday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. This was very interesting, but Calysta was too busy thinking up ways to get her revenge on Peeves.

Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout, where they learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi, and found 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 staffroom fire and got up next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates, and got Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up. 

Not that Calysta cared. History of Magic was equivalent to a free period, in her eyes. She spent that time sitting all the way in the back, whispering with Jeff, Regulus and Felix all throughout the lesson. They were mostly plotting ways they could sneak out after curfew without running into Filch and his mangy cat, or trying to think up ways to sneak up on Peeves.

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

Professor McGonagall was again different. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking-to the moment they sat down in her first class, although it was impossible to hate her, and feel anything but respect for her.

"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."

Calysta gulped as Professor McGonagall's gaze lingered over her for a second. Harry was right when he told her she wasn't a Professor to cross.

Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realized they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. 

By the end of the lesson, only Hermione Granger had made any difference to her match; Professor McGonagall showed the class how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave Hermione a rare smile. 

Calysta scowled. Uncaring that the lesson was over, she forced herself to concentrate much harder than she'd done during the lesson, turning her match into a perfect needle. No, Calysta was smart, but only if she paid attention. It was a pity she had the attention span of a fruit fly, which is to say, insignificant.

She left the class right after, as Professor McGonagall took of her glasses and stared in wonder at the sudden improvement she showed. 

The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. 

Felix absolutely hated Defense Against the Dark Arts. As soon as he entered the classroom for the first time, his face had gone a dark shade of red that Calysta didn't even think was capable of going, since his skin was usually so pale. He stood outside for a full ten minutes, refusing to take another step forward and enter the classroom.

When Calysta asked why, he said he was afraid of Professor Quirrell, causing Regulus to tease him endlessly. 

Ten minutes of standing outside trying to get Felix to get into the classroom became a whole half an hour, and eventually when Professor McGonagall passed by Professor Quirrell's classroom, and noticed that Felix wouldn't enter, she told Calysta, Jeff and Regulus to stop coaxing him into  and enter the class. Eventually, Professor McGonagall told Felix to accompany her to her office, until Defense Against the Dark Arts was over.

His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went.

Calysta found him a waste of time, and wished that she too, like Felix, could have skipped the two hours of stuttering and stammering.

Friday was a good day for Calysta and Jeff. For once, they hadn't gotten lost on the way to breakfast, which meant that they could finally eat properly.

"What have we got today?" asked Regulus, buttering up a toast and loading it with marmalade.

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," said Felix. "Snape's Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors them — we'll be able to see if it's true."

Calysta groaned, tugging out her hair and saying something in French.

"What did you say?" asked Jeff, raising a brow. 

Calysta went pink. She had, in fact, said something extremely rude about Professor Snape, but didn't want to repeat it. "I said I wished Professor McGonagall favored us," she covered it up.

Meanwhile, Regulus had been staring at her, eyes wide and jaw dropped. "That's not what you said," he had argued, rather shocked at her choice of French words.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," exclaimed Felix. "You both speak French?"

"Cal speaks seven languages," interjected Jeff proudly, clapping her on the back.

"It's something I picked up," Regulus had shrugged. "I can understand, but my speech is a little bit rusty."

"So what did she say?" asked Jeff, grinning.

"She insulted Professor Snape," whispered Regulus. 

Felix roared with laughter. "You did not!"

Calysta shrugged, still embarrassed. She made a mental note to use another language when she wanted to curse out loud. That way, nobody would understand her.

Just then, the mail arrived. Calysta had gotten used to this by now, but it had given her a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners, and dropping letters and packages onto their laps. 

Jeff had gotten a letter from his mother, and Felix had an odd sort of package sent from his father. He'd refused to open it at the table, until Regulus had whipped it out of his hands and tore off the wrapping only for it to be a bottle of perfume that smelled rather funny.

Felix sprayed himself with the perfume, and he looked much more happier after doing so. Calysta had to question his perfume tastes. To her, it smelled of cloves, cardamom and other strong things.

Regulus had gotten his copy of the Daily Prophet , and immediately skimmed through it before squashing it into his full bag.

Tempest hadn't brought Calysta anything so far. He sometimes flew in to nibble her ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school owls. Occasionally, he'd bring in fallen flowers for her, causing Calysta to pet him and kiss his furry head. This morning, however, he fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note onto Calysta's plate. She tore it open at once. It said, in a very untidy scrawl:

Dear Calysta, 

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 Tempest. Harry is coming too. You can bring your friends too, if you like.

 Hagrid

Calysta borrowed Felix's quill, writing to Hagrid that she'd be there, before sending the answer back with her grey owl.

It was lucky that Harry and Calysta had tea with Hagrid to look forward to, because the Potions lesson turned out to be the worst thing that had happened to either of them so far. It was worse for Harry than her, obviously, since Snape despised Harry, for reasons unknown. For her, Snape just held plain dislike, which she could work around.

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry and Calysta's name. 

"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Harry and Calysta Potter. Our new — celebrities."

Harry glared at Snape with his emerald, green eyes, while Calysta merely decided to flip her hair and subtly wink at Regulus.

Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. Calysta had noticed that Malfoy had sat next to Avery, who was still sullen and quiet after being sorted into what he called the wrong House. 

Jeff, Felix and Regulus had complained that they were sharing a dormitory with Avery, and that all he did was zombie walk from class to class, and hang out with Malfoy in his free time. They had mentioned that there was an empty bed in the dormitory, which was being used as a dumpster for dirty clothes, at the moment.

Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word — like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "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." 

More silence followed this little speech. Calysta and Jeff exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione Granger was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead.

Felix was sitting straight and paying strict attention to Professor Snape, who was staring at Harry.

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

The class was silent. Calysta didn't know whether the question was aimed for her, or Harry, but she was lucky she knew the answer. When the Weasley twins had told her exactly how strict Professor Snape was, she would read her potions book every night before bed.

Hermione's had shot into the air, causing Calysta to fight off the urge to roll her eyes.

"You," Snape confirmed, pointing at Harry. "Answer the question."

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

Snape's lips curled into a sneer. "Tut, tut — fame clearly isn't everything." 

He ignored Hermione's hand. 

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

Calysta knew this too, she'd read it on Tuesday night, while Hermione reminded Lavender to change out of her robes before sleeping.

Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Harry didn't know the answer. Calysta turned her head to the side, watching Malfoy shaking with silent laughter.

Wait until I teach him how to laugh at my brother, she thought, jaw clenching.

"I don't know, sir," replied Harry. 

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

The audacity of this man. Harry had opened a book, but he hadn't actually bothered to memorize the books like Hermione had.

Snape was still ignoring Hermione's quivering hand.

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

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.

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

A few people laughed, Calysta just smiled slightly, while Regulus and Jeff were sniggering. Snape, however, was not pleased.

"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "Potter, answer the question!"

Harry didn't know the answer, he was just staring at Snape with burning hatred in his eyes.

Draco Malfoy had stopped smirking, just in time to glance at Snape.

"He means you, Potterette," he said loudly. 

Calysta's head turned in Draco's direction. The Slytherins howled with laughter at Draco's new nickname for her.

"What would you get if you added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" asked Snape, to her, this time. 

She was quiet for a while, before trying to remember the answer. "Er... A sleeping draught," she responded, rather unsurely, fearful of giving the wrong answer.

Professor Snape didn't tell her whether her answer was right or wrong. He moved straight to the next question. 

"Where would you find a bezoar?"

"The stomach of a goat," she responded. This question was easy. She remembered being fascinated when she first read it.

Snape, again, gave no indication she was right or wrong.

"What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?" he asked, his voice only slightly louder.

She was quiet. Ten seconds became twenty, and after a good amount of thought, she finally took a guess, on the probability that Snape would most definitely be asking her a trick question. "There is no difference."

"Very good," he responded, his lips curled into a flat line. "Yes, 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?"

Calysta felt she was very lucky this time, and decided that she would  definitely continue reading her potions book every night, just to stay on Snape's good side. 

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."

Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like. 

He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs. 

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?" 

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose. "Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. 

Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville. "You — Potter — why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor." 

That was so unfair that Calysta opened her mouth to argue, when Regulus nudged her. "Don't," he whispered. "He can turn very nasty."

She scowled, continuing to brew her potion to perfection, following each step with the utmost care. Truth be told, if it weren't for Professor Snape hating on the Gryffindors, she would actually enjoy it, seeing as it was exactly like cooking.

Growing up in Privet Drive had its perks, especially how Aunt Petunia would often call her to help her in the kitchen. Not that Calysta minded. She enjoyed cooking quite a bit. Potions was ten times better than cooking. It was like watching magic bubble as she added ingredients to her cauldron, either resulting in a color change or an exotic smell or reaction.

By the end of the lesson, Calysta was feeling very smug when she managed to rival Hermione's potion. Snape had to give her a point for Gryffindor for having a perfect potion. Pleased with herself, she couldn't stop herself from smiling.

They had a free period right after potions, and Calysta made her way to the Gryffindor common room with Jeff, Regulus and Felix. The four of them were huddled up in the corner of the common room, which was empty, save for a couple of Sixth Years who were complaining about their homework.

Heads bent down, the four of them were having a very serious discussion on how to get Peeves on their side. 

"What if we lock him in a broom cupboard?" suggested Jeff.

"How will we get him inside the broom cupboard?" asked Regulus.

Jeff shrugged. "Lure him in?"

"I still don't think it's a good idea," responded Felix, who was sucking on one of his red lollipops and reading Fantastic Beasts and where to find them, Newt Scamander. 

"Come on, Felix, live a little."

"Peeves deserves it," added Calysta. "He tricked me into entering the boys lavatory yesterday instead of Charms class."

Jeff burst out laughing. "That's why you looked so traumatized," he recalled.

The brunette went pink, refusing to say anything.

"Did you see something you weren't supposed to?" he teased, causing the girl to snatch Felix's book and smack his shoulder hardly with it.

"Hey, my book!" interjected Felix.

Jeff fell to the floor laughing, pushing his cousin away from him as she repeatedly smacked his shoulder with the book.

She climbed over him, and he fell over, and Regulus was chanting, "Fight, fight, fight...,"" while Felix was trying to grab his book.

"SHUT UP!" yelled one of the sixth years, throwing a piece of crumpled up parchment in their direction.

The first years went quiet, then went back to whispering, continuing their discussion on how to get Peeves to stop messing around with them.

"Guys, please, I'm trying to read," whispered Felix.

"You're so boring."

"Thank you," Felix replied monotonously.

Calysta had uncrumpled up the parchment the Sixth Year had thrown, and was sketching a monkey on it with her quill, while Jeff and Regulus were arguing about whether or not they should trick Peeves into entering a broom cupboard until Felix slammed his book shut.

"You guys are so daft," he commented. "Peeves wouldn't be fooled and tricked into entering a broom cupboard. Besides, he deserves much worse that that. What we need to do is use a spell to either silence him, or scare him into ever messing around with us again."

Calysta stopped drawing, looking up suddenly, her quill hovering over her parchment. Regulus and Jeff had stopped arguing, staring at Felix, jaws dropped.

"That's a great idea, why on earth didn't you tell us before?" demanded Jeff.

"I thought you'd give up and be quiet eventually," replied Felix. "I didn't know it was that easy to shut you guys up. Now I'm regretting not telling you sooner. Can I go back to my book now?"

Silenced, the two boys nodded. 

By the end of an hour, they'd decided to place a neatly wrapped box in the first floor corridor, where Peeves spent most of his time. The four of them hid inside the closest broom closet, all peeping through the cracks as they waited for Peeves to discover the package.

Just as they predicted, Peeves came zooming into the corridor a minute later, cackling loudly and singing rude songs about Filch.

It took him exactly twelve seconds to notice the wrapped box, that looked like a present. 

"Well lookie at that," Peeves was saying. "Someone's got a secret admirer."

He picked up the box. "It's for Peevsie?" he read off, looking rather confused. "From C, J, F and R," he read off.

Undoing the ribbon, he ripped the wrapping off, opening the box. An explosion sounded out, and Peeves wailed loudly, and the box having exploded in his face, which was covered in a white, sticky fluid.

Since the four of them weren't very good with spells, they decided a potion would be much simpler and easy to use as a prank for Peeves. It took Calysta and Felix ten minutes to brew the potion together, following the instructions from their potions book.

It proved to be successful, and they high-fived each other and giggled as Peeves struggled to get the sticky fluid off his face. 

They were leaning against the door of the broom closet, which suddenly gave way and sprung open, and the four of them toppled out, laughing at Peeves' expression. 

He rounded in on them instantly. "It was you!" he accused.

"Yes, it was," Calysta responded, through laughs. "Doesn't feel nice being on the receiving end, does it?"

"Let that be a warning to you," Felix said. "Next time think about the consequences before messing around with us."

Peeves shook his head sadly and zoomed away, his spirits dampened.

"I almost feel sorry for him," Jeff remarked.

The other three looked at him with disgusted glances.

"I said almost," he corrected. "He's normally so confident about himself."

"I don't care. He can mess around with anyone but not us," replied Regulus.

"Atta boy," praised Calysta, patting him on his back. The clock suddenly sounded loudly, echoing through the castle walls. 

"Whoops!" Calysta paled. "I was supposed to meet Hagrid at three!" she exclaimed.

"Let's all go," suggested Felix. "It's three now."

They ran as fast as they could to Hagrid's hut, reaching at five minutes past three, knocking on the door breathlessly.

"Back, Fang!" Hagrid could be heard saying. "Harry, could you get the door, I think Calysta's here."

The door opened slowly, and Calysta found herself looking into her twin's eyes. "Hi Harry," she said brightly, enveloping him into a hug. It seemed like although the two of them had every  class together, they still hadn't interacted as much as they did normally, especially since Harry was always with Ron, and Calysta didn't want to intrude.

"Hi Hagrid," she greeted, looking at Hagrid's scraggly face as he kept hold of a black hound's collar. "These are my friends," she introduced. "Jeff, my cousin, that's Regulus, and that's Felix."

Her eyes flew to the dog. "Aww, he's so cute!" she exclaimed, bending down and petting the dog's head, even though he bared his teeth at her, causing her to back away.

"Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at Jeff and started licking his ears. Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked.

"Hey!" Calysta whined. "What did I ever do to you?" she asked the dog, who was licking Jeff's face, which was now covered in slobber.

The rock cakes were shapeless lumps with raisins that almost broke their teeth, but Calysta and Harry pretended to be enjoying them as they told Hagrid all about their first lessons, with inputs from Ron, Jeff, Felix and Regulus. 

Fang rested his head on Harry's knee and drooled all over his robes, and Calysta was still trying to get the dog to like her. But every time she'd look at him, he'd growl.

Calysta was delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch "that old git." 

"An' as fer that cat, Mrs. Norris, I'd like ter introduce her to Fang sometime. D'yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can't get rid of her — Filch puts her up to it." 

"Don't worry, Hagrid," said Regulus. "We'll handle Mrs. Norris and Filch one day."

"Don't do anything to get yerselves into trouble, Hagrid replied.

"Nah, we're just waiting until we learn a bit more magic, then we can handle them," replied Jeff.

"Today we pranked Peeves," Calysta said. "That's why we were late."

And then they told Hagrid about what they did, explaining about the potion they'd used.

Harry told Hagrid about Snape's lesson. Hagrid, like Ron, told Harry not to worry about it, that Snape liked hardly any of the students. 

"But he seemed to really hate me." 

"Rubbish!" said Hagrid. "Why should he?" 

"It's true," interrupted Calysta. "He hated Harry more than he hated me."

"Actually he hated both of them until Calysta answered his questions correctly," Regulus remarked. "Now he just dislikes her."

Yet Harry couldn't help thinking that Hagrid didn't quite meet his eyes when he said that Snape didn't hate them. 

"How's yer brother Charlie?" Hagrid asked Ron. "I liked him a lot —great with animals." 

Harry wondered if Hagrid had changed the subject on purpose. While Ron told Hagrid all about Charlie's work with dragons, Harry picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cozy. 

"Hagrid!" said Harry suddenly, "that Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might've been happening while we were there!" 

Calysta looked at Harry, who was reading a copy of the Daily Prophet.

"There was a break in at Gringotts?" Calysta asked, taking the newspaper from Harry, only for Hagrid to snatch it away and keep it in a place too high for any of them to reach.

There was no doubt about it, Hagrid definitely didn't meet Harry's eyes this time. He grunted and offered him another rock cake. 

Harry and Ron said goodbye to Hagrid before heading back to the castle. A minute later, Calysta wished Hagrid a good evening before setting off back to the Great Hall for dinner, deep in thought.

Why had Hagrid hidden the newspaper article? And what did Harry know that she didn't? How did Harry know there was a break in at Gringotts before he read the article? Why was Hagrid avoiding any questions about Snape?

These questions played in her mind as they walked back to the castle. There was something very peculiar going on here, and Calysta was determined to figure it out.

{ here's another update. i actually really enjoy writing this story so far, even though it's an overused plot. i'm trying to make things move faster, but i love including those little details that seem insignificant otherwise. anyway, comment, vote, share and follow. }