Pandora Malfoy and the Philosopher's Stone

Chapter Twenty-Two: Learning Lessons

After the Potions lesson was History of Magic, which was somehow even more boring than it had been the day before. Then was the class everyone had really been looking forward to — Defence Against the Dark Arts, taught by Professor Quirrell, a pale wizard with a stutter, who wore a large purple turban on his head.

But Quirrell's lesson turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told us, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but I wasn't sure if I believed that.

For one thing, when Seamus asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather. For another, I had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and two of Ron's older brothers — twins called Fred and George — insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went. And for a third reason, I had one of my strange feelings about him, telling me that something wasn't quite right — and this one was bothering me far more than the faint one I still had about Harry. But was that just my family's prejudices against people who looked different kicking in? If so, I needed to stop that immediately. I eventually resolved to keep a close eye on Quirrell, but to keep an open mind at the same time. I would not fall into the same traps of thinking that Draco had.

After that was lunch, which still didn't bring anything from Father, and then the last lesson — Transfiguration. All the way through it, Professor McGonagall kept looking towards where I was working, and as I packed up my things and started to leave at the end of the lesson, she called me back.

"Miss Malfoy, I want a word."

I stopped, then turned around and walked back over to Professor McGonagall's desk, a million possibilities about why she wanted to see me running through my mind.

"Your father has come to see you," she said, getting straight to the point.

"My father?" I repeated, hoping my voice didn't shake at all.

"Yes. The headmaster has asked me to bring you up to his office."

So this was why I hadn't been sent a letter — Father had come to see me himself. My heart started pounding as I followed Professor McGonagall to Dumbledore's office, so loud that I was sure everyone in the castle could hear it. My hands were shaking, and I quickly clasped them together behind me.

Eventually, we stopped at a large stone statue of a gargoyle.

"Pepper imps," Professor McGonagall said.

This was evidently a password, because the gargoyle suddenly sprang to life, and hopped aside as the wall behind him split in two, revealing a spiral staircase, which was moving smoothly upwards. As Professor McGonagall and I stepped onto it, I heard the wall thud closed behind us. We rose upwards in circles, higher and higher, before finally stepping off. I went deathly pale as Professor McGonagall opened the oak door with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffin, and we walked into the office.

"Ah, Miss Malfoy," Dumbledore said. "You have a visitor."

I looked towards the other person in the room, and my heart sank. It was Father, his expression one that I immediately knew meant that I was in big trouble, his hand holding the cane that concealed his wand.

"Father," I said softly, barely stopping myself from curtseying.

"Pandora," he replied, his voice cold. Then, he looked towards Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall, and said, "Leave us."