Ronald Weasley and the Mysterious Magical Rock

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

There was a lot to get used to at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, it turns out. In one of Hermione's annoying speeches on how much she knew about everything, I found that there were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts, and I think they moved every now and then, and some of the stairs would disappear sometimes. There were snobbish doors that refused to open unless you asked nicely, and some that you had to tickle in the right spot, which was bloody weird.  There were trick doors that looked like walls but weren't, trick walls that looked like doors, but weren't. And how was I to remember where everything was when everything moved all the time? Even the people in the portraits went to visit each other all the time, and the suits of armour probably moved too. 

Seamus, Dean, and Neville, Harry and my dorm mates were quite friendly with us, and we got along well, although I suspected it was probably more about Harry than me. In fact, everyone seemed to whisper about Harry in the hallways, or they'd stare, or double-take. Even some of the teachers seemed to do the same! 

The thing I respected, though was how he seemed so cool about it. He didn't prance around the school because he was the famous Harry Potter. Instead, he seemed to just go on with life like he wasn't famous, like the rest of us. 

The staff of Hogwarts were all weird, too. Professor Binns was the History of Magic teacher, and he was a ghost. He'd drone on and on and on about people and dates I didn't care about. He was so boring, he would put almost everyone to sleep, except Hermione. I don't understand how she did it, he was so boring, but then again she was Hermione. She was almost like a mini-Percy. 
Professor Sprout was our Herbology teacher, and she'd teach us about weird plants and fungi three times a week.  Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was probably two feet high, or something, and he had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. On our first lesson, he actually fell off his chair in excitement upon arriving on Harry's name on the roll call.

Professor McGonagall was very strict and very clever, and she had an air of no-mischief. I don't think anyone would think of misbehaving around her. Except Fred and George, maybe.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she had said on our first lesson. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then she turned her desk into a pig and back, which was very impressive. I couldn't wait to learn to turn things into animals. Maybe I could turn a chair into a crocodile and make it chase Fred and George around as revenge for their pranks. But then she went and said we weren't going to learn how to do that for ages. Instead, we got to turn a match into a needle, and by the end of the lesson, only Hermione was able to do it. I hated her for that. Why did she have to be such an annoying show-off know-it-all?

I had thought that Defense Against the Dark Arts was going to be a super cool class, and I was so disappointed to find our professor, Professor Quirrell, an edgy old git who wore a massive turban. His classroom stank of garlic, and I think Fred and George had said something about him warding off a vampire in Romania and being paranoid it would come back. They claimed that his turban was stuffed with garlic too. He seemed completely mental, because he'd mutter words under his breath all the time. He didn't really seem fit to be teaching.

Harry and I had been becoming good friends. We'd sort of stuck together since the term had started, and on Friday, we managed to navigate our way to the Great Hall without getting lost once. 

"What have we got today?" Harry asked as he poured sugar onto his porridge.

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," I informed. "Snape's Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors him – we'll be able to see if it's true." Fred and George had told me loads about Snape, and to my understanding, he was a greasy, grumpy old git with an oversized nose who hated everyone except those in Slytherin. Even Percy didn't seem too fond of him. And he was Percy !

"Wish McGonagall favored us," said Harry. 

Just then, I heard the beating of hundreds of wings and I looked up to see the mail arriving. Hundreds of owls swooped down and dropped off letters and packages to their owners. I sighed. I wish I had an owl. The only owl I ever used was Errol, the family owl, who looked like one gust of wind would make him crumble to bits. I looked over at Harry's owl, Hedwig, a brilliant snowy owl, who had just dropped a letter onto Harry's plate and was now affectionally nibbling at his ear. 

After reading the letter, Harry borrowed my quill to write a reply, and he told me it was from Hagrid, (the big hairy guy) and he was asking him to have tea after lessons.

Then we headed down to potions.