Case of the Cintimani Stone: A Hammer Mystery

Chapter 11

Not every class went as well. The Hammer's first Friday at Hogwarts came in before he had realized it. The morning rush of mail owls had brought in his copy of the Daily Prophet, a subscription confirmation form to the Wizarding World News along with the day's copy, and a letter from Hagrid. Harry popped it open and asked the owl to wait while he took a bite out of a sausage and read it,

"Hammer,

I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer with the owl that brought this letter.

Hagrid"

Harry wrote "Sounds great. See you then!" with his fountain pen just after Hagrid's signature, folded the note and fed the owl the remainder of his sausage before setting it back on its way.

"Any plans for this afternoon?" Harry asked Hermione between sips at his mug of tea.

"No, why?"

"I just told Hagrid I'd come over for tea after classes at three or so. Any interest?"

She nodded affirmatively to avoid talking through her mouthful of food. Before he had a chance to even unfold his copy of the Prophet or the WWN, there was a tapping on his shoulder.

"Hey Hammer, our potions class today is doubles with our houses. Want to walk to class together?" Neville had gotten up to ask him.

"Yeah, sounds like a plan." He agreed, "See how much easier it is after we mapped out this place?"

Neville nodded, "Yeah, I'm glad I went with you, but I'm still not looking forward to having to go back down into the dungeons. There's just something not right about being that far underground."

"Better get used to it, otherwise it's gonna be a long year."

The Potions classroom was in a part of the castle dungeons adjacent to the Slytherin common room. The entire sublevel of the castle was cooler - to the point where the Hammer wondered if it was just the way the castle was built or if there was magical refrigeration going on somewhere. Hermione had mentioned that the layout of the Slytherin common room extended out partially into the lake, so that would have explained the difference in temperature. All Harry knew was that he would have to find a nice nook somewhere during the summer months to avoid the heat.

The classroom itself was a visual assault of glass jars full of unidentifiable pickled things that made it feel more cramped than it already was. Harry grabbed a seat next to Neville, taking note of a gargoyle in the corner that seemed to be the class's source of water as it vomited a constant stream into a font at its feet. The rest of the class seated themselves and remained relatively quiet - there was an oppressive air to the room that kept them waiting with bated breath. The door slammed shut behind them, causing all heads to turn and look as the professor glided in soundlessly across the cool stones.

Snape was more intimidating up close - he had a kind of unkemptness that was rebellious in the face of how easy it would have been to clean himself up with magic. His long black robes were faded with wear and stained with what the Hammer assumed were decoction reagents in no particular pattern. Harry watched him with a singular focus, the tips of his fingers rubbing the scar above his eye, wondering if he would feel the same pain he had at the banquet when Snape made eye contact with him. He kept his gaze fixed at the man's eyeline, but the sensation never returned.

The man's face had an animal cruelty to it, eyes darting between students with objective disdain as he began calling out for attendance. When he reached the Hammer, he paused.

"Ah, yes," he spoke at a level barely audible, but Harry could feel his condescension, "Harry Potter. Our new... celebrity." The Hammer returned his gaze. He had learned not to back down even if it was an adult staring you down.