Professor Flitwick was without a doubt the smallest person Harry had ever laid eyes on. He had nearly toppled off the stack of books he was using as a stool when Professor Ambervale introduced Harry to the class. Ambervale closed the door, smiling.

His smile froze slightly when he turned around and came face to face with Madame Pince, the school librarian, who was wearing an expression of utmost apprehension. On The librarian, such a look never boded well.

Ambervale gave her a nod. "Madame Pince."

The librarian nodded in return. "Professor Ambervale." She drew in a deep breath. "The Dark Maiden has catalogued the books in the restricted section. She has determined that at least two managed to escape the confines of the library itself during the scuffle two nights ago."

Ambervale went ramrod straight. "At least two?"

Madame Pince's lips thinned. "All the ones yet to be found are ones that are well known for scuttling about the library most of the time anyway." She crossed her arms. "The Dark Maiden only discovered these were missing because another book told her."

Ambervale grimaced. "I see. Which ones?"

Madame Pince frowned. "Silentium Aevum, and Hopes of the Damned."

Ambervale's eyes widened. "Are there any clues as to where they went?"

Madame Pince shook her head. "Only that they went left when they got out the door." She shrugged. "To be honest, I'm really only concerned about the latter of the two. Silentium Aevum is essentially harmless."

Ambervale nodded. "It's just a lexicon for nonverbal casting is it not?"

Madame Pince frowned. "For the most part, yes. As I understand it, it went into the restricted section mainly due to the difficulty of its spells." Her frown deepened. "Hopes of the Damned however…" She trailed off.

Ambervale's expression was grim. "Book has some of darkest spells known to wizardkind."

Madame Pince's lips thinned. "Precisely. Not to mention the curses that are on the book itself. I've yet to manage to properly break them. Right now the best I can do is to suspend them temporarily. The sooner it's back in safe hands, the better."

Ambervale nodded curtly. "I shall start search at once."

Madame Pince thanked him and swept away. The counselor drew his wand from a sleeve and said quietly, "Point me, Hopes of the Damned." The wand spun like a top in his hand. After nearly a minute of this Ambervale sighed. "Finite." After it stopped twirling he placed it back into his sleeve. "That would have been too easy of course."

"And far too lucky where that book's concerned." Pamela appeared from the shadows, carrying a large leathery looking tome that sported what appeared to be a set of bat like wings. "Vampyre's call." She said, indicating the book. "It tends to run around with Hopes the majority of the time. I was hoping it might draw it out." She sighed. "Nothing doing I'm afraid. Hopes is obviously determined not to let itself get caught without a fight."

"What about Silentium Aevum?"

Pamela snorted. Releasing the book in her hands so that it was forced to flap its wings to stay aloft, she pointed down a hallway. "Back to the Library please, and no detours!" She paused. "Unless you spot your little running friend, in which case you come find me pronto! I want you to patrol the halls outside the library. If you catch even a glimpse of Hopes come tell me at once."

The book threw her a salute with one wing, then flew off down the hall.

Turning back to the counselor, she said, "I'm not sure exactly where it is now, but from what I understand it spent most of last night footling about near the Gryffindor portrait entrance. Their guardian told me it ran off somewhere this morning."

Ambervale sniffed. "Well, fairly benign by all accounts, so not much harm if it runs about for a while."

She nodded. "True. And to be fair, it's gone off and come back on its own before, so it may well do it this time. Hopes of the Damned is another matter entirely. I've put all the portraits on alert, but I'm running out of places to search. I'm starting to suspect it managed to get out into the grounds."

Ambervale pursed his lips. "I planned to start divining spell. Sounds as though I may need something stronger. I'll check my spells for anything useful. I'll keep you informed."

She nodded. As he turned to go, she frowned. "Mahalestro!"

He stopped. "Yes?"

"I don't know what it is, but nearly every last book in the library is acting jumpy, even the most docile ones. Whatever's going on, it's got them absolutely terrified." Pamela's frown deepened. "The only ones that aren't scared are the ones I have yet to find and Vampyre's Call. Silentium Aevum and Hopes of the Damned aren't the only ones missing. By my count there's at least seven more, and they're all books with powerful spells on and in them."

Ambervale drew in a breath. "I shall speak with the Headmaster about it. He may have some idea of where to find them."

Pamela shook her head. "Maybe so, but if you find them, let them be. Nine of the ten most powerful spell books in the open area of the restricted section don't run off without reason."

Ambervale's expression was grave. "Do you think they will cause trouble unattended?"

She shook her head. "No. If they were going to cause trouble, they'd have already started doing it." She paused. "I don't know if this makes any difference, but all the missing books have wings, now that I think about it."

Ambervale frowned. "May well mean something. Though what is not something I can answer." He shook his head. "Well, if nothing else, must locate Hopes of the Damned. Far too dangerous to let run about unnoticed."

She nodded and watched him go. "I wish him luck." She muttered. "I've yet to see the spell that could find that book when it doesn't want to be found." She gave a scowl at the thought and turned sharply, fading from sight and phasing silently through the classroom wall.

 ~~~

"Now class, for our first lesson, we'll be learning how to conjure fire. It's an invaluable spell for any witch or wizard, and not just because you'll be using it in your first Potions class."

He waited for the class to quiet down, then took his wand out and aimed it at a pile of tinder on his desk. "Incendio!" There was quiet hissing noise, and several orange bundles of light surged from the tip of the professor's wand. The tinder exploded into a blazing fire.

Turning around, the tiny man clasped his hands together. "Now then, you all have your targets in front of you. Be very careful where you aim! Remember the incantation, Incendio."

In very short order, there were numerous bundles of flame crackling all around the room. Harry sat there feeling somewhat depressed. How was he supposed to speak an incantation?

He had somehow ended up sitting next to Draco Malfoy, who was watching him with a strange expression on his face. Grabbing a sheet of parchment, he scribbled something down and slid it towards Harry.

It said, Why make you come to a class like this when you can't say the words?

Harry frowned. Grabbing his own quill, he scribbled back, I dunno. Maybe they want me to learn the theory?

Draco scowled when he read the response. Maybe. But it's still unfair to make you come to a class for something you can't do. All it does is make you look bad!

Harry's frown deepened. Yeah, but there's nothing else I can do! I mean, Pamela said she might be able to help me, but I'm not even sure it'll be any good!

Draco looked confused. He started to write a response, glancing up when a strange singed smell began to make itself known. Then he jerked upright. "Harry!" It was more of a scream than anything else.

Harry felt a horrible heat, and abruptly realized that his hair was on fire.

Accordingly, his primary reaction was to panic. A swift, and rather squeaky, "Aguamenti!" from Professor Flitwick sent a blast of water towards him, dousing the flame, and thoroughly soaking him in the process.

Harry gingerly raised a hand and felt a rather large area of singed hair. He, along with the entire classroom, flinched when Pamela appeared out of thin air with a rather loud bang, looking furious.

"Now who did that? There's no way that was unintentional!" She directed a glare that could have made water curdle towards the room at large. Unsurprisingly, no one answered her. After nearly a minute of silence, she snorted and turned back to Harry.

Muttering something that was probably uncomplimentary at best under her breath, she raised her arms and held her hands straight above Harry's head. "This might sting a bit kiddo." She spread her fingers and chanted something. Harry suddenly felt as though someone were giving him an exceptionally strong pinch on his scalp. The feeling intensified until it almost had him in tears. Then it vanished suddenly, an odd rushing sensation taking its place.

"There we are!" She sounded pleased. Harry opened his eyes to find that his hair now sat at roughly shoulder length. She frowned. "I'm not very good at short hair I'm afraid, so I thought it better not to risk it. Besides, it'll be much more manageable now." She snapped her fingers, and Harry was literally steaming as he dried out in a pocket of sudden warmth. She gave a nod of satisfaction as the steam stopped.

"Much better, if I do say so myself." She floated up to sit in midair in a corner near the ceiling, looking rather like a hawk watching its prey as she surveyed the class. "Do carry on now. Don't mind me."

Professor Flitwick eyed her for a moment. Then he seemed to decide to ignore her, as he waved his wand, causing his stack of books to levitate and float over to Harry. Coming to a stop at eye level with him, the Professor said quietly, "Now I know it's rather unfair to you to be in this class, but we still need you to get an idea of the proper method to be casting basic spells like this. Professor Ambervale made a point to apprise us of your situation, so I'll find alternative methods to make sure you're keeping up with your peers. I still want you practice and attempt the spells though, alright?"

Harry nodded. "Yes sir." Then he frowned. "But what am I supposed to do when I need to use magic in a class?"

Professor Flitwick smiled slightly. "Don't worry about that too much right now. Most of your classes won't require any magic beyond the spell that's being taught for quite some time. The only one that will is Potions, and that just involves lighting the fire under your cauldron."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

A flash of something streaked between them, smashing into his pile of tinder and setting it ablaze. Pamela dropped back into Harry's range of vision, one hand glowing with a writhing mass of magenta and green tendrils of fire.

She smirked. "That won't be a problem. There's more than one way to start a blaze." She shrugged, the flames dissipating from her hand. "If nothing else, if he's any kind of teacher, Professor Snape should have some good old fashioned flint handy. Some potions react badly to any excess magic, including the magic used to light a fire."

"But those would be way more advanced than anything I'm learning, wouldn't they?"

Professor Flitwick shook his head. "Not all of them are. If I remember correctly, there are at least five like that in the first year texts." He waved a hand idly. "But that's beside the point. In lieu of casting the spell, I'd like you to write me a short essay on the invention of the spell, and its various applications. Twelve inches of parchment please. We'll keep that the standard assignment until you can cast the spells. Does that sound alright with you?"

When Harry nodded, the professor smiled. "Splendid! I think you'll find the history behind some of the charms to very interesting! The levitation charm is particularly intriguing. The reason it was invented may seem quite odd nowadays, but it wasn't back then."

Pamela frowned. "I thought it was originally designed as a cleaning spell. For lifting furniture and dust and whatnot."

Professor Flitwick shook his head. "No, that's what the hover charm was originally invented for. The levitation spell was a cleaning spell though, and the two are often considered, incorrectly I might add, to be one and the same."

Harry blinked. "What's the difference?"

"The levitation charm actually lets you move things about." Draco said, breaking into the conversation. "The hover charm makes things float a set distance from the surface under them, and it's actually more advanced magic than the levitation charm, since it requires a more specialized casting to make it last."

Professor Flitwick nodded, looking rather impressed. "Quite right Mister Malfoy. Five points to Slytherin." Draco beamed.

"Why use the hover charm at all then, if the levitation charm is so much better?"

Pamela smiled. "The reason is in the spells. You can control the direction and height with the levitation charm, but it requires continuous concentration from the caster. The hover charm is more of what muggles call a "Set it and forget it" type of spell. It uses a set amount of magic to cause the target to hover, and more or less keeps it there until the magic runs out, or you cancel it." She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "You can still push it in a different direction if you want, though if it drops off whatever's under it, it'll fall until it hits the right height again. It's more like a sort of magical table really, since it falls at a perfectly normal speed."

Professor Flitwick was looking impressed again. "You sound like you've had a lot of experience with it."

She nodded. "It's remarkably handy. I use it rather often in the library. Quite useful when someone knocks over a bookshelf." Then she frowned. "It doesn't seem to last very long on the ones in the restricted section though. I think the magic from the books interferes with it."

Professor Flitwick nodded. "That seems the most likely reason. It's been documented to have less effectiveness on magic imbued objects. Apparently the different magical signatures will clash with each other."

Pamela shrugged. "Personally I think it's more because the books don't like being restrained, but that sounds about right all the same."

She glanced up as a deep booming knell echoed through the room. "Ah, there's the bell!"

Professor Flitwick nodded. "Dismissed everyone! I want fourteen inches on proper casting and usage safety by next class!" He glanced at Harry and said quietly, "Except for you Mister Potter. You already have your assignment."

Over the groans from the students Pamela asked, "What's your next class kiddo?"

Harry hunted out the timetable he had received from Professor McGonagall at breakfast. "Transfiguration."

"You're with the Slytherins again then." Draco said. Then he frowned and pulled out his timetable too. Looking between his and Harry's he said, "You've got Potions, History of Magic, and Defense against the Dark Arts with us as well." He blinked. "Astronomy too. Who makes these?"

Pamela snorted. "The headmaster I believe. He groups the first year Gryffindors and Slytherin classes together every time. Usually against the express wishes of one or more professors. You'll see a few Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs in some of the classes though, so it's not all Gryffindor and Slytherin."

She held the door open for them. As it snapped shut behind them, Draco said, "It's still not fair making Harry go to classes where he can't cast anything. It just makes him look bad."

Pamela scowled. "I know, but Professor Ambervale says he needs a thorough understanding of the wand movements and enunciations, which he's only going to get in a classroom." Her scowl twitched into a smile for a moment as she looked at Harry. "Though I think it has more to do with him wanting you to see the kinds of mistakes that are possible from a miscast."

Harry grinned and fingered his hair.

~~~

Professor Mcgonagall was, as Harry had earlier suspected, most definitely not a person to cross. She started off the class with a stern lecture about the safety of magic, then she turned a desk into a pig and back. This caused a great deal of excitement, but the class quickly realized it would be a long time before they would be doing anything like that.

This action was followed up by an announcement that Gryffindor had lost twenty points, and that, "Mister Weasley has detention."

Said Weasley immediately protested. "What did I do?"

Professor Mcgonagall gave him a stern look. "You intentionally miscast your incendiary spell in Charms Class, and could have caused grave harm to another student." She smiled thinly. "We have ways to find out what the students are up to."

Weasley was silent, which was probably a good thing for him. The Transfiguration professor gave a hearty sniff, and went back to the lesson, which was about how to transfigure matchsticks into needles.

Her assignment for Harry was similar to Professor Flitwick's, but was, in Harry's eyes anyway, entirely different in intent. "Think of it as an ongoing research paper." The professor said. She looked pleased by Harry's interest. "Every spell you learn, whatever the subject, comes from a certain branch of magic. Most of these branches have at most, one or two categories branching from it. Transfiguration is unique in that it not only has more branches than most, but that those branches are sorted by a class and category, rather than just one or the other."

She paused for breath, then started in again. Harry realized she was enjoying the lecture. "The catch to the sorting process is that one takes precedence over the other, with precedence being placed on the more obvious application, which is usually the class. There are some spells that require a category, though spell family would probably be a more accurate term." She drew her wand and conjured up a large sheet of parchment.

Setting it down between them, she tapped the surface of it with her wand. Ink immediately spread from the point of contact, spider webbing out until it formed a skeleton of a tree with the words "Families of Magic". There were a number of large branches on it, labeled Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, Divination, Runes, and oddly, Potions.

Harry pointed at the last one. "How does this one qualify as a magic family? It isn't really about wands is it?"

Professor Mcgonagall sniffed, looking a cross between amused and thoughtful. "If Severus could have heard that." She muttered. More loudly she said, "You're right that it doesn't normally have much to do with wands, but there are certain spells that have been invented solely for use with potion making, so they get lumped in with it, rather than their respective classes. Consequently, there aren't that many branches, but what is there is fairly well defined."

She took another breath. "What I'd like for you to do, is instead of writing me an essay about the spell, is put down what off-shoot of transfiguration the spell belongs to, and then write it in any other branch of magic where you think it will have a practical application. Make sure you put it under the category you think it best fits when you do that though." She brandished her wand again. "I'll start you off." With that, she gave it a wave, and a number of smaller branches sprouted out of the categories in front of him. "There are other branches of magic of course, so feel free to add one if you should come across it and feel it should be there. The parchment will make room, though you'll need to add the categories for it on your own."

Harry examined the parchment for a moment, then looked back up. "Are you able to control what kind of material you make the needle into when you change it from a matchstick?"

Professor McGonagall blinked. "Well, yes, although it's much easier when you're converting from wood to metal, rather than from wood to wood."

Harry blinked. "Why? Is it because it would be counted as a different class of spell?" When Professor McGonagall stared at him, he pointed at the classes on the "Transfiguration" branch. "Because it looks like it would normally be a trans-elemental spell, but if you aren't changing the actual element it's made of, it'd technically be a shape changing class wouldn't it? Since changing from one type of wood to another isn't really changing the element, just the shape of it?"

Professor McGonagall looked rather startled. "Technically, yes. This is one of the rare spells that could conceivably go into more than one class or category. In this case, it's generally more convenient to keep it in the trans-elemental category, since that has the broader range of uses to it."

"So it would go in the "Ingredient" category for Potions, and the . . . "Dueling" category for Dark Arts I guess?"

Draco, who was sitting next to him again, tapped the parchment. "That's not really all that practical, though. You'd still have to have the matchsticks in the first place, wouldn't you?" He waved a hand flippantly. "And you'd have to use a spell that would actually make them do something." He frowned. "Really I don't think there's that many non-dueling spells that are particularly useful in one. Most duels don't give you enough time to set up a bunch of spells to make one thing work. Usually it's all act and react."

Professor McGonagall watched them, looking somewhat bemused.

Ignoring her for the most part, Draco said, "Now there's some transfiguration spells that could be used in a duel, but they're pretty advanced, since they involve transfiguring a person rather than an object."

By the end of the lesson, Hermione Granger was the only one who had made any significant headway in transfiguring her matchsticks. Professor McGonagall showed them how it had gone silvery and pointed at one end, and awarded ten points to Gryffindor. She was the only one excused from Homework, apart from Harry, who had technically already done his.

~~~

Defense against the Dark Arts, which Harry had rather been looking forward too, turned out to be a bit of a joke. True, Professor Quirrell did teach them the Lumos spell, which made light, but other than that, the class was very dry and boring. And aside from the fact that he stuttered worse than anything Harry had ever seen, there was something about Quirrell that seemed distinctly off. Harry had yet to pin it down.

Harry felt that the award for most boring class went to History of Magic, hands down. The subject matter might have actually been interesting, if it weren't for Professor Binns, the ghost teacher. He seemed to have the power to put the entire class to sleep with just a few sentences, and the most exciting thing he ever did was enter through a wall. The only thing that kept Harry awake during the class was Pamela's color commentary. It was much easier to remember the names of important people such as the Sorceress Fiora, when he was told that, "She had a pretty enough face, but a nose that could make a clock scream and run backwards to get away."

Astronomy, Like History of Magic, was one of the classes that had students from other houses with the Slytherins and Gryffindors. Harry rather liked it, and not just because it was one of the few classes he could actually do something in. He could have easily done without the staring from the other students, though Professor Sinistra seemed to be quite adept at spotting that particular occurrence and making the students focus.

Potions was the one class that Harry found himself truly looking forward to. He had always liked Chemistry in primary school, and he didn't mind cooking when it wasn't for one of the Dursley's big parties. Harry had been leafing through the potions textbook the night before class, and had found a few that were truly interesting.

The day of his first potions class was actually an important day for a different reason. It was the first day Harry was able to find his way to the Great Hall without assistance. Pamela had turned up at his dormitory briefly to hand him a small sphere, which was filled with the same magenta-green flames she had used in Charms.

When asked what it was, she said, "It's a portable flame. You can carry it around and let them out as needed. Just hold it like so, and focus on where you the flames to go, and do more or less the same thing to bring them back. Make sure you feed them if you aren't going to use them for a while though. You just need to push some twigs through every once in a while, it won't hurt the sphere."

With the problem of a cauldron heat source solved, Harry managed to find his way downstairs for breakfast. After the meal, Draco caught him in the entrance hall and more or less insisted on showing him how to get to the dungeon classroom. Harry was beginning to think he was definitely going to have to count Draco as friend, despite the airs and graces he sometimes put on.

Finding the classroom was easy enough, with Draco guiding him. They went in, and Draco quickly led them to a table, studiously ignoring the gaze of Pansy Parkinson, who was looking rather miffed. Harry noticed that Professor Snape was nowhere in sight.

It did not take him long to appear however. Harry felt a sudden rush of something he couldn't describe, and turned to look at the door. As a result, he was the only one aside from Draco (Who had turned when he saw Harry doing so) that didn't flinch when it burst open a few seconds later.

Professor Snape blazed into the room, looking for all the world like a bat flying straight from the bowels of the underworld. Without breaking stride, he swept up to the front of the classroom and flicked his wand. The door shut with a resounding bang. Without so much as a glance at the students, he pulled a sheet of parchment from the desk and proceeded to rap out names at high speed. Upon reaching, "Potter" and receiving no response, his lip began to curl. Again he called the name, and again he received no response.

Finally he snapped his gaze upwards, easily spotting the student in question sitting next to his godson, who was looking at him as if he were a three footed kangaroo. Eyes narrowed, the professor marked a check next to the name, muttering audibly, "Our newest celebrity."

Harry exchanged a glance with Draco at this. Looking both annoyed and confused, Draco whispered, "What's he playing at?" Harry just shrugged.

Dropping the list on his desk, Snape faced the class. "There will be no silly wand waving or foolish incantations in this class. It requires discipline and focus. As such I do not expect many of you to possess the necessary skill for the subtle science and exact art that is potion making. For those select few that show the predisposition however-" He gave Draco a look, and went on. "I can teach you to brew glory, bottle fame, and even put a stopper in death."

Then his eyes landed on Harry, who was (making an attempt at) copying his speech. He had his head down in order to concentrate on writing with the quill, which he found to be rather trying, as the ink would spatter everywhere when he wrote.

The eyes narrowed. "Then again, perhaps some of you already feel proficient enough to not pay attention!" The whelp's head snapped up at the last part, eyes wide at finding the professor less than a foot away from him. "Tell me Potter-" He practically spat the surname, "where would you find a bezoar?" Beside him, Hermione Granger's hand shot into the air.

Harry vaguely remembered something from his textbook, something about, "A goat?"

Professor Snape's lip curled at the sight of the flying quill. "Inadequate. Let's try again shall we?" Harry could tell it wasn't a request. "What would I get if I made an infusion of asphodel and wormwood?"

Harry couldn't even begin to remember where he'd seen that. True he'd leafed through the books a bit, but he hadn't managed to memorize it. Beside him, Hermione stretched a bit, her hand still in the air. "I don't know sir."

The Professor smiled rather nastily. "Tell me, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Harry shook his head, even as Hermione nearly fell out of her seat in eagerness. "I have no idea sir."

"Tut tut, Mister Potter. Clearly fame isn't everything. Thought you could enter this classroom without cracking open a book did you?" Then he glared at Hermione. "Sit down Granger!" When she complied he said, "For you information, a bezoar is found in the stomach of a goat, and infusion of asphodel and wormwood creates a sleeping draught so powerful it is known as the Draught of Sleeping Death, and as for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same thing."

He glared around the silent room. "Well? Why aren't any of you writing this down?" There was instant flurry of activity as students scrambled for quills and parchment.

Harry hadn't thought the class could get much worse after that. He had failed to reckon on Snape however. It was with some difficulty that he managed to get Pamela's portable flame to cooperate. Just as Draco was quietly offering to light a flame for him, it finally shot a jet out and lit up the underside of the cauldron, blazing merrily. Unfortunately, the unusually colored flame had Snape's attention quick as lightning.

Appearing from nowhere, Snape growled, "Mister Potter, I do not allow portable mage flames in my classroom." He waved his wand, in what Harry guessed was an attempt to extinguish the magenta and green flames. They stayed put however, and stubbornly resisted several more wand waves. Finally he snarled, "Extinguish them! Now!"

Fortunately, there was no difficulty in getting the flame to return to the sphere. As soon as they were gone, Snape waved his wand, causing a more ordinary flame to sprout underneath the cauldron. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for your insolence Potter."

The potion itself was the worst part. Despite the fact that he was having a hard time seeing the blackboard through the haze of potion fumes permeating the classroom, Harry was certain he was supposed to be stirring his potion clockwise. Therefore he couldn't help but wonder why doing so only seemed to make the liquid look more like sludge with every turn.

Snape suddenly materialized just as the cauldron let out a gurgle and a plume of magenta smoke. "Tell me Potter, can you read?" He gestured at the board. "What direction do the instructions say to stir the potion?"

Harry frowned. "Clockwise sir?"

Professor Snape crossed his arms. "Indeed." He scowled. "Why then, are you stirring anticlockwise?"

Harry blinked. "What?"

Professor Snape's scowl deepened. "You are stirring anticlockwise, you dunderhead! What in Merlin's name possessed you to think you can ignore such basic directions?" Then something seemed to flash through his eyes. "Or do you not know anti from clockwise?" He jabbed his wand towards the blackboard. The haze swept apart like a curtain to reveal another of those peculiar clocks hanging just above the instructions.

Eyes narrowed, he said, "Tell me Potter, just what time is it?"

Harry watched for a moment as the outer circle of symbols steadily spun while the inner circles gently slipped into a different pattern. Then he swallowed. "I don't-" He got no further however, because Snape's wand was suddenly arcing through the air. There was a bang, and the magic quill fluttered to the desk, looking wilted.

"You will speak when spoken to!" The man roared.

Hermione granger raised her hand tentatively. "Please sir, He-"

"Be silent Miss Granger!" He snapped. Then he turned to glare at Harry. Leaning in close to his face, he snarled. "I will not tolerate any further insolence from you, is that clear?" He leaned closer.

This was evidently too close. Whimsy, whom up till now Harry had completely forgotten, suddenly darted from his hidden pocket and fast as lighting, gave the man a very sharp peck in the face, shooting back to his hiding place almost before Harry registered it.

Snape launched backwards with a roar, clutching his nose as the sound of the bell echoed through the room. "That's sixty points from Gryffindor, and a months detention Potter! And be thankful it isn't more! Now get out of my sight!"

Scooping up the feather and his bag, Harry ran. Draco and Hermione were after him the instant Snape had snarled a dismissal. The two of them skidded around a corner to see Harry a short ways ahead, running through a high stone archway.

Draco winced. "That's the wrong way!" He shouted. He and Hermione chased after him. Upon reaching the archway however, all they found was a very solid expanse of wall filling the space in the archway.

Draco slammed a palm against the wall. "Bloody hell!"

"Watch your language!" someone snapped. The Dark Maiden materialized suddenly, gliding through a wall behind them. "What's the matter?"

Hermione pointed at the wall in front of them. "Harry got upset and he ran off! But now there's a wall here!"

Draco growled. "He just went through here! I know this wall wasn't here a second ago! I know it wasn't!"

Pamela looked to where Hermione was pointing. Then she froze. Neither student had known a ghost could pale, but it was evidently so, as what little green color in her skin seemed to leech away. "He went through there?" She sounded slightly hysterical.

Draco nodded vigorously. "Yeah! Just now!"

The Dark Maiden's eyes were wide. "Oh bloody fucking shite!" Both students stepped back in surprise at the expletives. Then she whirled to face Hermione. "Quickly! Fetch Professor Ambervale! Tell him a student is inside the sealed quadrant! Get him and any other Professors you can find! Go!"

Hermione didn't need telling twice. She was off like a shot.

Watching her go, Draco said weakly, "The sealed quadrant?"

The Dark Maiden seemed to draw in a breath. "There is not supposed to be an opening here. Like all the other entrances to this portion of the castle, it was sealed to protect the school."

Draco blinked. "Protect it? From what?"

The Dark Maiden gave him a level look. "From a monster. One that was too powerful to be outright destroyed. It was trapped in this section of the school over three centuries ago behind powerful magics."

Draco gulped. "What kind of monster?"

Pamela's expression was utterly calm. "The kind that eats humans. The kind that can easily go over three centuries without a meal."

Draco went white. "You mean it's still there?!"

The Dark Maiden clenched her fist, causing white light to arc across it like electricity. "Oh yes. We'd know if it was gone. If it were, the seal would come undone permanently. It's undoubtedly much weaker than it was back then, it'd have to be, being trapped for so long, but it's very much alive." She growled, the light giving an audible crackle as her fist clenched tighter. "Except now it has an easy meal wandering through its lair."