𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞

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Morana and her friends easily found their classes unlike some other students. She looked at the map in her hand while  Aries pout in his little side.

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.

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 staff room 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.

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 Morana's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight. Morana tiltee her hed in confused. "Maybe he knew my mother?" She thought.

Professor McGonagall was again different. Draco had been quite right to think she wasn’t a teacher to cross. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking-to the moment they 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.”

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 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 Morana had made any difference to her match; Professor McGonagall showed the class how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave her a rare smile.

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. 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.

Perseus snickers behind Theodore who was trying to hold back his laugh. Morana smiled remembering that her father told her how weak and stupid Quirell were and that they will learn Defence Against The Dark Art.

"Will we really passed the rest of the year with him as our teacher?" Draco muttered in disbelief. "Papa would teach us at home." Morana answered his question. Aftera while they all sit up and left.

"What lesson next?" Pansy asked, "Potion with Severus." Aries answered with a shrug. "It's going to be fun." Morana smiled mischievously. "Couldn't agree more." Cayena said. "Let's hope that my nails won't get hurt!" Daphe added.

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

Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. Snape looked at Draco and Morana with a sly smile which make both sweatdrop.

"Are we in trouble?" Morana whispered, "I don't know!" Draco gulped nervously. "You two did broke some of his bottles potion." Aries reminded them.

"Thank you very much, cousin." Draco rolled his eyes.

"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.”  

Perseus rolled his eyes, he know how harsh Snape can be but still, when he taught them, he was nicer.

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

I don’t know, sir,” said Ron.

Snape’s lips curled into a sneer.

“Tut, tut – look or fame clearly isn’t everything.”

He ignored Hermione’s hand. Morana pouted and lifted up hand a little.

“Let’s try again. Weasley, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?” Ask Snape. Weasley rolled his eyes clearly annoyed.

Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat.

"I don’t know, sir.” Weasley scoffed.

“Thought you wouldn’t open a book before coming, eh, Weasley?” Snape mocked.

"What is the difference, Weasley, between monkshood and wolfsbane?”

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

“I don’t know,” said Ron arrogantly. “I think Hermione does, though, why don’t you try her?” Morana and Daphne gasped looking at each other.

"He is so dead."

"50 from Gryffindor! And sit down!" Snape said firmly toward Weasley and Granger.

"Heiress Potter, please do tell me the answer of the first question." Morana smiled brightly.

"The first answer is a sleeping potion so powerful that it's known as Draught of the Living Dead, proffesor." Morana explained. Hermione's face turned red of jealousy.

"Next question, Heiress Rosier!"

"A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons." Cayena smirked while looking at Weasley.

"Last one, Heir Nott."

"Monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite." Theodore grinned proudly.

"Well? Why aren’t you all copying this down?” Snape said coldly. Luckily for the Slytherin group, they had already copied it all.

"And 50 pints to Slytherin for the good answer." Snape added.

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 Morana and her friends, whom he like.

He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Morana had stewed hher horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon.

Weasley 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?

Weasley whimpered. “Take him up to the hospital wing,” Snape spat at Seamus.

At the end of the, everyone left the class while Snape looked at Morana. "The stone is in the third floor corridor." Snape whispered to her.

Morana nodded and quickly went to joined her friends.