~The Big Five at Hogwarts~

Chapter 4

Jack~

       This place is weird. Those are my first thoughts when coming to Hogwarts. The beautiful but ancient-looking castle nestled in the hills of the Scottish countryside is fascinating, but it has some strange features. First of all, the students are transported to the castle in dark carriages that move all by themselves. And not only is there some sort of poltergeist flying through the halls singing annoying songs, but there is also an enormous old tree in the courtyard that I think I saw move. So I am not that surprised when I came to the extravagant Great Hall, with its hundreds of floating candles and enchanted ceiling.

            Because I haven’t had six years of magical training like other students, I’m required to take extra private classes with Ms. McGonagall herself. I am on my way to her office to meet her when a student pushed past me to reach the huge wooden doors. His rough hands send me stumbling right into a girl holding a book. Her sapphire eyes narrow when I offer to help her up. Her pale hair Is tied into a messy bun and she wears a badge that I remember as Ravenclaw. I apologize clumsily and hand her book back, which she Is about to forget even if she pretends otherwise. She tells me that her name Is Elsa and leaves abruptly. I don't mind; I am just glad that someone Is talking to me non-aggressively.

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            After last night’s private lesson, I feel like my hope is renewed. It went pretty smoothly; I was able to become accustomed to my brand-new wand and learn several new spells. Things are finally looking up. My first class today is Herbology. Yeah, sure, that sounds fun. Once I’ve eaten breakfast, I take my books and head down the corridor. The people in the paintings on the wall chatter endlessly, as do the robed students passing by. Walking into the Entrance Hall, I notice something that I missed yesterday coming in. Up against the side wall is a large concrete sculpture of the Hogwarts crest. Before, I had thought it was simply a decoration. But now I spot a silver plaque on the pedestal reading, The Battle of Hogwarts Memorial. Along the side of the four House symbols, there were names etched into the stone. I run my finger along names like Nymphadora Tonks and Fred Weasley. Above the plaque is a photograph of three teenagers: a girl with fluffy brown hair, a tall redheaded boy with his arm around the girl, and another boy with messy black hair and round glasses. Who were all these people?

            I have heard them mentioned before in students’ conversations. But I am not part of these peoples’ history and would probably never be. I feel just as much of an outsider as before.

            I run into the greenhouse a little late because of the time I took studying the memorial. The professor looks up from the plant he is holding and sighs when he sees me trying to sneak in.

            “Mr. Frost, you’re late. My name is Mr. Longbottom; I will be your Herbology professor. Why don’t you stand over there next to David?” He points to a rather short blond boy standing at a counter. While the professor is busy listing the effects of gillyweed, I take out my long black wand and start to practice a spell McGonagall had shown me. I whisper the words, Wingardium Leviosa, expecting the flower pot in front of me to levitate, but instead it explodes, sending pieces of pottery flying across the room. The students duck, trying to avoid the shards, but Mr. Longbottom stays calm and uses his wand to freeze them in midair. After that, I think I hear him mutter, “Why is it always me?” before telling me to put my wand away.