The Hollow Beneath Hogwarts

24. Somebody Save Me

The classes themselves turned out to be surprisingly manageable.

At least so far.

Most professors seemed to understand that half the school had spent the previous year fighting a war instead of studying for exams, so the first lessons largely consisted of revising previous material rather than immediately drowning everyone in advanced NEWT-level work.

Not that that stopped the teachers assigning homework like they were personally trying to ruin lives.

By lunchtime on the very first day, Sloane already had a three-foot essay for Transfiguration and another four feet for Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Apparently surviving Voldemort had not earned anyone reduced coursework.

Tragic, honestly.

Still, Sloane found herself enjoying the lessons.

Her father had made certain she continued studying while they'd been hiding. Even when she had been exhausted or frightened or angry at the world, Henry had insisted she practise spells, revise theory, and keep up with potion work.

At the time she had thought he was being cruel. Now she realised he had simply been preparing her. Because despite everything that had happened, she hadn't fallen behind. If anything, she felt sharper than ever.

And honestly?

That felt good.

Really good.

By ten minutes to two, however, Sloane's attention had entirely abandoned Ancient Runes and focused solely on one thing:

Her first counselling session.

She was nervous. Excited. Terrified. Hopeful.

All simultaneously.

The second class ended, she practically flew from the classroom clutching her bag to her chest while students flooded the corridors around her. 

The counselling offices sat directly beside the tapestry concealing the entrance to the Year Eight dormitory tower. Two large arched oak doors stood side by side against the stone wall. Beautiful. Intimidating. Very official-looking.

Sloane took a deep breath before pushing one open and stepping inside. The waiting area beyond surprised her slightly.

It was smaller than she expected, softly lit with cream walls and cushioned sofas positioned between four separate office doors. A small enchanted fountain bubbled quietly in the corner, the sound oddly calming. Each office had a brass plaque fixed to the door. Potter. Granger. Malfoy. Sage.

Sloane paused briefly staring at her own name. That still felt bizarre.

Then she pushed open her office door.

And immediately wrinkled her nose. "Oh no."

The room itself wasn't awful. Just... bland. Painfully bland. Wooden flooring. Cream sofa. Cream armchairs. Cream walls. A decorative bookshelf filled with random meaningless ornaments. A coffee table. A small tea tray with tea, coffee, and biscuits.

Functional. But cold. Clinical. Not somewhere people would feel safe opening up.

"Hm," Sloane muttered thoughtfully, setting down her bag. "I can absolutely do better than this."

She pulled out her wand immediately. The transformation began slowly.

One wall melted into a deep navy blue while the others softened into pale warm grey. The sofa shifted colour next, darkening into a rich navy fabric while soft cushions appeared across it in varying shades of silver, blue, and cream.