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HP Chapter 8: The First Lesson
🕑 Added 2025-07-31 06:38:51 +0000 UTC“Fanny, what class do we have next?” Anne asked as she casually spun a Knut in her fingers while walking beside Fanny.
Fanny pulled a neatly folded sheet of parchment from the book she was holding. The handwriting on it was graceful and tidy.
“History of Magic. We'll be with Gryffindor,” Fanny replied.
“History of Magic? Hm, looks like we’re in for a bit of a show.”
“What show?” Fanny asked, puzzled.
“You’ll see soon enough,” Anne said mysteriously.
When they arrived at the classroom, it was still empty. Fanny made her way to the first row, while Anne plopped down into a seat near the back. Fanny turned to her, a little hesitant.
“Anne, why aren’t you sitting up front?”
Anne continued spinning the coin on the desk. “Fanny, I’d advise against sitting in the first row. My uncle told me that History of Magic is the most boring class at Hogwarts. I believe him.”
Fanny flipped through the book in her hand and muttered, “But I think it sounds interesting…” Still, she ended up sitting beside Anne.
After a while, she looked at the empty rows in front of them and suggested, “Anne, how about we move up just one row? Just one?”
Anne shrugged and pocketed the coin. “Sure, it doesn't matter to me.”
Just as they stood up, the door burst open.
Hermione stood at the entrance, panting heavily. Anne and Fanny turned to look.
“Anne?” Hermione blinked in surprise. “You’re already here? Merlin, Hogwarts has got to be the most confusing school ever. Stairs that move, doors that don’t open the same way, yesterday during class, a staircase shifted and I nearly missed it!”
Fanny nodded in agreement. She was incredibly grateful she had followed Anne to class the day before, over half of Slytherin had been late. Some even looked like they’d been in a brawl, with their robes filthy and wrinkled.
“I just looked at the map,” Anne replied matter-of-factly.
“Map?”
“Hogwarts has a map?” Hermione and Fanny asked one after the other.
“You didn’t know?”
“I had no idea Hogwarts even had one. If it did, my parents would’ve told me for sure,” Fanny added.
“I’ve never read anything about it in Hogwarts: A History,” Hermione chimed in.
“Well, my uncle gave me a copy before school started. I thought everyone got one…” Anne began to feel a little uneasy. Had she just stumbled into something big? Was her map a unique copy? But that couldn’t be, hadn’t Harry been given the Marauder’s Map at some point? That was way more advanced. Anne had always assumed the one Aaron gave her was just a simpler version.
Avoiding their questioning gazes, Anne mumbled, “Um, just… don’t tell anyone else about it, okay?”
Both girls nodded. Hermione, however, stared at Anne, practically burning with curiosity. Seeing no way out, Anne pulled the old parchment from her bag and handed it over. “You can take a look, but don’t let anyone else see.”
Hermione didn’t take it right away, though her eyes were glued to the map. “Maybe I shouldn’t. What if you’re late to class next time?”
Your eyes say otherwise, Anne thought. But she needed to keep Hermione quiet. “I’ve looked it over so many times I already memorized it.”
With that assurance, Hermione eagerly took the map. “I’ll give it back as soon as I finish!”
At that moment, footsteps echoed from the hallway. Hermione quickly tucked the map into her bag and hurried to the front row. A group of Gryffindor students entered the classroom.
Fanny, sitting beside Anne, whispered curiously, “Who is she? And how do you know a Gryffindor? Slytherins and Gryffindors don’t exactly get along… And,” she stopped herself, remembering the need for secrecy, and just looked at Anne with her bright blue eyes.
“That’s Hermione Granger. I ran into her at Flourish and Blotts before term started, and again on the train. So we knew each other before the Sorting.”
Anne lowered her voice and added, “About the map, I’ll explain later.”
Fanny understood and nodded, whispering back, “No worries. I’ll just stick with you for classes anyway. We’re in the same house and dorm. I’m just curious about how it...?”
Anne sighed, “Honestly, I don’t know. My uncle gave it to me offhandedly. I’ll ask him about it and let you know.”
Satisfied, Fanny nodded and turned to her History of Magic textbook.
The bell rang, though a few students were still missing. Professor Binns, the ghost, didn’t care. He began lecturing in his usual flat and droning voice. The classroom filled with the soft scratching of quills.
A while later, Harry and Ron came rushing into the room, the hems of their robes soaked.
“Sorry, Professor!” Harry called out. His voice echoed loud in the quiet room.
“Look!” came Malfoy’s voice, loud and mocking. “The famous Harry Potter! Late on his first History of Magic class! Hahaha! Late Potter!”
Laughter rippled through the room.
Fanny blinked at Anne as if to say, Is this the ‘show’ you mentioned?
Not quite satisfied, Malfoy raised his voice again. “Late Potter! What happened to your robe? Did you fall in the loo?”
More laughter broke out.
Malfoy’s goons joined in. “Fell in the loo! Hahaha!”
“That’s not true! We were ambushed by Peeves!” Ron retorted angrily.
By now, Professor Binns had floated up to the front and addressed the boys. “Find your seats,” he said. Then, turning to Malfoy, he warned, “Mr. Malfoy, for disrupting class, Slytherin loses one point. If you don’t quiet down, I’ll be reporting this to Professor Snape.”
At the mention of Snape, Malfoy shrank back and glared at Harry, falling silent.
By the third day, with no morning classes, Anne and Fanny stayed in the library. Anne sighed internally. She hadn’t expected the wizarding world’s curriculum to be so demanding. Every class assigned homework. Even with her photographic memory cheat code, she still had to spend loads of time on assignments.
Someone quietly sat down next to her. Anne glanced over, it was Hermione.
With one hand, Hermione held a book; the other nudged a different book toward Anne.
Anne looked at the title: Famous Wizards of the Twentieth Century. She gave Hermione a puzzled look.
Hermione flipped through her own book and gestured for Anne to open the one in front of her.
Inside was the old map, neatly tucked between the pages. Anne quickly slid it into her bag and whispered, “You finished it already?”
Hermione nodded and whispered back, “I memorized it last night. Thanks.” Then she simply stood and walked away.
Fanny, watching the exchange, looked a little miffed. She whispered to Anne, “She just left? She’s not very nice. That’s the second time I’ve seen her, and she still hasn’t asked my name. No one’s ever treated me like that before.”
Anne recalled Hermione’s personality from the train and tried to comfort her. “She said thank you. I think that’s a big step for her. And honestly… I bet she already knows your name.”
“You told her?” Fanny frowned. “When? You’ve been with me all morning.”
Anne pointed to her bag. “That map shows the whole castle. If she memorized that in one night, remembering names at the Sorting wouldn’t be hard.”
Fanny nodded solemnly, clearly impressed. “Wow… My parents always say people with talent deserve respect.”
Two more days passed, and Anne had a decent understanding of the overall curriculum.
Her favorite subject was Herbology, taught by a short, plump witch named Professor Sprout. She often took them to the greenhouses behind the castle, where they learned to cultivate magical plants and fungi. The greenhouse housed tropical and subtropical flora, including many Anne had read about in One Hundred Delicious Magical Plants for Cooking.
She found herself envious of Hufflepuff students, Professor Sprout was their Head of House. Anne now spent all her free time volunteering in the greenhouse, hoping to earn some magical plants or seeds. She had already written to Uncle Aaron, asking him to buy her flower pots and common seeds. After all, there were no shops inside the school.
Her least favorite classes were Professor McGonagall’s Transfiguration and History of Magic. Transfiguration was simply too difficult, and Professor McGonagall was extremely strict.
As for History of Magic, Professor Binns was as dull as a college lecturer who just read off PowerPoint slides.
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Friday morning, during breakfast
“Fanny, what classes do we have today?” Anne asked as she buttered her bread.
Fanny swallowed her bite and took a sip of milk before answering. “Potions. With Professor Snape. And Gryffindor.”
“Hmm…” Anne paused mid-bite. “Sounds like this’ll be an interesting one.” Then she took a bite of her toast.
After she finished eating, the hall filled with the fluttering of wings as dozens of owls swooped in to deliver mail. The owls circled over the tables, dropping letters and parcels to their respective owners.
On Tuesday, Anne had written to Aaron about her arrival at school. On Wednesday, she had sent another letter detailing what she needed for Herbology. But there had been no reply. She figured he must’ve been traveling.
Soon, Momo spotted her and swooped down to the Slytherin table.
Anne untied the letter from Momo’s leg and fed the owl bits of bread. She unfolded the parchment and read the slightly messy handwriting:
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Dear Anne,
Sorry for the late reply. I’m currently in Egypt. I heard you were sorted into Slytherin, fantastic! I’m sure your parents would be thrilled too. I’ve already asked someone in Diagon Alley to buy the items you need. They should arrive in a couple of days.
About the map, haha, I forgot to tell you. Yes, I bought it from an acquaintance. Go ahead and have fun with it. Hogwarts still has lots of secret passages to explore.
Love,
Uncle Aaron
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Anne was speechless. What do you mean, ‘have fun with it’? It felt like Aaron just wanted chaos to erupt.
Potions class was held in a dungeon-like room that felt even colder than the rest of the castle. Around the room were shelves lined with glass jars containing strange specimens suspended in fluid.
The moment class began, Professor Snape took the roll. He paused when he reached Harry’s name.
“Oh, yes. Harry Potter,” he said, looking directly at Harry. “Our new... celebrity.”
At once, Malfoy and his lackeys, Crabbe and Goyle, burst into stifled giggles. Snape ignored them and finished roll call, then turned to address the class.
“You have come here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making,” he said, voice barely above a whisper, yet every student heard each word clearly. Like Professor McGonagall, Snape had an effortless way of commanding silence.
“As there will be no foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don’t expect you to truly understand the beauty of a simmering cauldron, the soft sheen of vapor, the delicate power of liquids that can creep through human veins, bewitch the mind, and ensnare the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even stop death, if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.”
The class fell silent.
Suddenly, Snape barked, “Potter! What do you get if you add powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”
Harry glanced helplessly at Ron, who looked just as blank. Hermione, seated up front, had her hand in the air immediately.
“I don’t know, sir,” Harry admitted.
Snape sneered. “Tsk, tsk, fame clearly isn’t everything.”
Ignoring Hermione, he pressed on. “Let’s try again. Potter, where would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?”
Hermione stretched her arm as high as possible without leaving her seat. Harry still had no clue. He avoided looking at Malfoy and his cronies, who were silently shaking with laughter.
“I don’t know, sir.”
“I suppose you didn’t bother to open any of your textbooks before school, did you, Potter?”
Harry said nothing. Fanny glanced at Anne, clearly confused, why was their Head of House being so harsh on Harry?
Anne subtly shook her head. She knew Snape’s motives: he resented Harry’s father but loved his mother, so he harshly protected Harry. But none of that could be said aloud.
“Then tell me, Potter, what’s the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?”
Hermione practically leapt from her seat, her hand stretched to the ceiling.
“I don’t know,” Harry muttered, “but I think Hermione does. Why not ask her?”
“Sit down,” Snape snapped. “I’ll tell you. Asphodel and wormwood make a powerful sleeping draught, the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from a goat’s stomach, it saves you from most poisons. Monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant, also known as aconite. Now, why aren’t you all writing this down?”
Quills scratched across parchment as everyone scrambled to take notes.
“Insubordination, Potter, Gryffindor loses one point.”
The class continued. Gryffindor didn’t get any easier. Snape paired them off to brew a simple boil cure, and circled the classroom in his billowing black robes, critiquing everyone’s work, everyone, that is, except Malfoy and Fanny.
While he was showing off Malfoy’s perfect technique for steaming horned slugs, Fanny noticed Neville was about to mess up and quickly stopped him.
“You need to take the cauldron off the fire before adding the porcupine quills, otherwise it’ll melt.”
Neville panicked, looked around, and locked eyes with Anne, who gave a small nod.
“You should listen to her,” she said.
Neville hurriedly did as he was told.
Snape clearly noticed the exchange. He walked over, giving Neville a scornful glance before turning to Anne and Fanny.
“Miss Charles, I hope you can be just as prompt next time. For saving a dunderhead from disaster, Slytherin earns one point.”
Fanny looked nervously at Anne. Anne gave her a reassuring smile and a shrug.
