The Raven's Call

Emotions

Once Transfiguration was over, I headed to my next class, noticing Alex and Asteria were heading the same way. "You guys have Potions too?" I asked, and they both responded with a nod. The three of us chatted among ourselves as we made our way down to the dungeons.

We took our seats in Potions class, the tables large enough to seat six students. The room was dark, with pickled creatures suspended in glass jars along the walls. A basin in one corner constantly trickled cold water from the mouth of a gargoyle, while the student supply cupboard stood in another. I pulled out my books and wand, preparing myself, but then I was jolted by the sudden slam of the door.

"There will be no foolish wand waving or silly incantations in this class," Professor Snape's voice rang out, sending a chill through the room. "As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making. However, for those select few who possess the predisposition, I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death."

Snape glared at Harry, peering down past his long nose. "Then again, maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel confident enough to... not pay attention." Hermione nudged Harry, finally making him look up at Snape. The professor marched to Harry's desk and delivered his next question with a sneer: "Mr. Potter. Our... new... celebrity. Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Both Hermione and I raised our hands, knowing the answer. Harry just shrugged, not responding. "You don't know? Well, let's try again," Snape said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. The two of us lowered our hands, and he turned his icy gaze back to Harry. "Where, Mr. Potter, would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?" he demanded. Hermione and I raised our hands again. Harry didn't answer. "And what is the difference between monkshood and wolfbane?" Snape continued, his eyes flicking to us, watching our raised hands. Harry didn't answer again. Snape glowered, his voice cutting the silence. "Pity. Clearly, fame isn't everything... is it, Mr. Potter?"

Hermione lowered her hand slowly, and I felt Alex beside me stir. "Clearly Atticus knows," Alex spoke up, his tone light but pointed. "Seems a pity not to ask him." "Silence!" Snape snapped, his gaze snapping to Alex, looking slightly offended. He strode back to his desk, muttering, "And put your hand down, you silly boy."

He turned back to Harry. "For your information, 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 wolfbane, they are the same plant, also known as aconite." The room fell into an uncomfortable silence, with everyone scribbling down notes.

"And Gryffindors," Snape added, his eyes narrowing on Harry, "five points will be taken from your house for your classmate's cheek." I sank lower into my seat, but I managed to whisper, "Thank you," to Alex, who gave me an encouraging smile in return.

***

After Potions, lunch was next, so we headed into the Great Hall and took our seats with our respective houses. The room hummed with chatter as students caught up over their meals. Just as I started eating a sandwich, I heard a chant from the Gryffindor table: "Eye of rabbit, harp string hum. Turn this water, into rum."

I chuckled under my breath, but before I could take another bite, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see none other than my brother, Cedric, smiling down at me. I jumped up and gave him a tight hug. "Ravenclaw, huh?" He asked, his voice full of surprise.

"Believe me, I'm just as surprised as you are," I said with a soft smile. "You're going to be a great addition to Ravenclaw, you're very bright," Cedric assured me. "Thanks," I replied, my voice filled with warmth.

BANG!

We both turned to see where the explosion had come from. It was Seamus Finnegan, the little Irish Gryffindor, who had clearly messed up a spell. Laughter erupted across the room, and I saw Hermione batting away smoke with her hand. Then came the familiar sound of owls squawking. "Mail!" a student exclaimed as the owls swooped in, dropping letters in front of us. I smiled as an owl landed on the table in front of me and dropped a letter from Amos. I opened it up, and Cedric leaned over to read it with me.

Dear Atticus,

I hope you're enjoying your first day. Cedric wrote to me last night to say you were placed in Ravenclaw, and I couldn't be more proud. I am proud to call you my son.

Love,
Your father,
Amos Diggory.

A tear rolled down my cheek as Cedric wrapped his arms around me. "We're both proud of you," he whispered softly as I cried more happy tears. "What class do you have next?" He asked as I broke the hug. "Uhm..." I sniffled, pulling my timetable from my pocket. "Flying." He smiled at me. "I'll walk with you after lunch."

"Hey, look!" I heard Dean Thomas called out. "Neville's got a Remembrall!" "I've read about those!" Hermione exclaimed excitedly. "When the smoke turns red, it means you've forgotten something." "The only problem is, I can't remember what I've forgotten," Neville said sadly.

Alex burst out laughing. "Your robes, Neville! You've forgotten your robes!"

The rest of the Gryffindors erupted into laughter, and even I couldn't help but chuckle.