The Potions Master

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The next morning, Ashlyn followed Hermione out of the dormitory to their classes. How confusing the stairs were, as written in the books were a total understatement. 

The worst of the lot was the moving staircases. Why the heck do staircases move, goddamnit?! 

She had half a mind to ask the Weasley twins to lend the Marauder's map.


She was sitting in transfiguration, beside Hermione, when Harry and Ron barged in. This should be fun, she thought, knowing exactly what was going to happen.

"Could you imagine McGonagall's face if we were late to class," said Ron

Hermione shook her head in disapproval and Ashlyn sniggered, as Professor McGonagall transformed from the cat sitting on the desk. Poor Harry and Ron.

"That was bloody brilliant," said Ron

"Thank you for your assessment, Mr Weasley."


Ashlyn found all the classes extremely interesting. It was all on magic! Even though Professor Binns did have that boring voice, the subject was quite interesting and she had no idea how anyone could sleep in the class. 

Hermione seemed to share the same views, and the girls bonded over their love for books and exchanging notes, and talking about how quills worked, and how they would have preferred pens over dipping the quill in ink every two minutes.

.........................................................


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

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," said Ron. "Snape's Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favours them — we'll be able to see if it's true,"

"Wish McGonagall favoured us," said Harry. 

"She does," Ashlyn said. "When it comes to Quidditch,"

"How do you know that?" Ron asked.

"I read somewhere, and asked around," Ashlyn said. "McGonagall used to be a superb Quidditch player and played for Gyrffindor. But in one match, with Slytherin, she suffered a nasty fall because of a Bludger. Several broken ribs and a concussion,"

Ron winced as he heard it. 

"Bet it was a foul from Slytherins," he said darkly.

"That's not a nice attitude" Ashlyn chided. "But unfortunate, it is true. That's why McGonagall's so intent on Gryffindor winning the Quidditch cup. Even if Gryffindor loses the House cup, it doesn't matter,"

"Yeah," someone said behind her and Ashlyn jumped.

"Fred!" she hissed angrily.

"I'm George," the twin said.

"No, you're not," Ashlyn said simply. "You're Fred, and that's George," she said tilting her head towards the other twin who had just sat down next to Ron.

"And how can you be sure?" he said testily.

"Because you are having your bag, which has a large 'F' on it," Ashlyn said, pointing at his name tag. 

"Oh, bugger," Fred groaned and sat down at the table. "Very clever, Clarke. Very clever,"

"I was just using my eyes," Ashlyn said simply.

"Quidditch tryouts later," George said. "You haven't got to flying yet, have you?"

"Mo, we don't have it until November," Ron said sulkily.

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