When Albus woke up it took him a moment to realize that he wasn’t at home. He was at Hogwarts. In the Gryffindor Dormitory.
Joy surged through him and he threw off the bedclothes. Then the thought of lessons came to him and his happiness turned to nervousness.
What if he was no good? What if he waved his wand, said the words and nothing happened? Rose would never let him live it down.
He looked around the dormitory and saw that everyone else but Scorpius was still asleep, for just the smallest chink of light had entered the room through the curtained windows.
Scorpius was sitting miserably on his bed, still wearing his robes, which had been bought with a Slytherin logo already on them. Albus felt a little pity for him.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly.
Scorpius looked up, but didn’t respond. His pale face had tear tracks on it. It seemed to Albus like a lost cause.
Stomach quivering like gelatin, Albus changed into his robes, stroked Ptolemy (who was asleep in his cage with his head under his wing) and headed downstairs.
The common room was empty except for a half-dozen students who were studying early. One of them was Rose, who was curled up in an armchair with a stack of spellbooks half as tall as she was.
“Hey, Al,” she said brightly. “How’d you sleep?”
“Great,” he said, sitting down in the chair next to hers. “You?”
She looked at him as though he’d just suggested purchasing a basilisk for a pet. “I was up half the night studying for our lessons! Of course I didn’t sleep well”
Albus groaned, equal parts annoyed and amused. “You don’t want to be tired for today. Why couldn’t you have just rested up?”
“Because there’s a lot to learn,” said Rose, slamming shut a thick book on charms and picking up a book about magical creatures. “And I don’t want to be behind!”
This reminded Albus of the fact that he had not read any of his books yet. His stomach, which had so recently calmed down after the Sorting, was back to its old tricks.
“What time is it?” he asked her.
She checked her watch. “Seven-forty. Breakfast is at eight-thirty, sharp. If I don’t see Fred out of bed in the next twenty minutes I’m going up there.”
Chuckling, Albus picked up The Standard Book of Spells and flipped through it. He was disappointed to see very few hexes, jinxes or dueling spells. James had bragged about being in several duels last year. It must have been a lie.
A few minutes later, Molly, Dominique and Victoire came down from the girl’s dorm. After saying good morning to their cousins, Molly and Victoire went off to their respective groups of acquaintances. Dominique flopped down next to Albus and Rose, her movements far less graceful than those of her sister and mother.
“Still up, Rose?” she asked incredulously. “There’s such a thing as too much studying you know.”
Rose muttered something about first lessons and “doing well.” Albus and Dominique started talking about Quidditch.
The common room slowly filled up. A lot of people, like Rose, were hurriedly flipping through textbooks and testing out small spells.
James, Fred and a couple of Gryffindor boys soon joined them. “Do you have enough books there, Rose?” asked Fred, looking with raised eyebrows at the small tower of paper.
Everyone but Rose laughed. She didn’t lift her eyes from her schoolbooks.
Scorpius came skulking down a few minutes later. He was carrying no schoolbag and no books. He sat down on an out-of-the-way pouf and sulked.
“Malfoy looks happy,” said James. “Reckon he’s going to start crying?”
“Knock it off, James,” said Albus. “He doesn’t know anyone here.”
“Well, with the effort he’s making he should be everyone’s bosom buddy in a couple of hours,” said Fred sarcastically.
At eight-fifteen, people started filing out through the portrait hole for breakfast. Albus realized that he was hungry. The feast seemed as though it had taken place a couple of weeks ago.
“Come on, let’s go,” said James. “I hope the house-elves made sausage.”
Albus made a mental note to visit Kreacher and nick some snacks the next opportunity he got.
The Weasleys and Potters headed out. Rose became out-and-out panicky wondering what lessons they would have first and even the usually unflappable Fred and Dominique looked nervous.
James led the way through the huge castle, several times employing secret passageways or shortcuts. It couldn’t have been clearer that he was delighted to have knowledge that his cousins didn’t.
Albus was in awe of the great castle. He had heard so much about it, read books about it, seen pictures. But nothing quite prepared him for the shock of seeing it for real.
First of all, it was so big. Albus had never seen so many doors and so many staircases. The corridors all looked the same to him, except for the subtle differences in portraits and statues.
When they reached the Great Hall, most everyone was already eating (James had taken a faulty shortcut and wasted time). The golden platters were loaded with eggs, kippers, bacon, toast and, as James had hoped, sausage.
The Weasleys all sat down and Albus helped himself to some toast and orange juice. That seemed like the safest option given his stomach’s proclivities.
The staff was already eating too. Hagrid waved a great hand in Albus’s direction and he returned the favor.
Professor Tweak was heartily partaking of some fried eggs, while talking animatedly with Professor McGonagall, who looked less than impressed with the Headmaster’s full mouth.
Albus’s interest in the staff table was diverted when the mail came. He looked for Apollo, the Potters’ snowy owl, and saw him just as he dropped a letter in Robert Smithson’s oatmeal.
Apologizing, Albus took the letter, which was from his father, his mother and Lily. They were fine and they’d already been told by Professor McGonagall that he was a Gryffindor and they were very proud.
Feeling cheered, Albus finished his toast and listened to Rose list all the spells she’d attempted.
When the breakfast plates cleared, the Heads of House began wandering through the crowd, passing out class schedules. Albus felt Rose quiver with excitement as Professor McGonagall handed her hers.
“Very good class choices, Miss Weasley,” she said, handing Robert his schedule. “Stop doing that, Mr. Potter”there you go Mr. Bungs.”
James, who had been levitating a plate and bumping it up against Albus’s head, stopped, shamefaced.
“And yours, Mr. Potter,” said Professor McGonagall, passing Albus his schedule. “Take that gum out of your hair this instant, Mr. Lane.”
Albus anxiously perused his schedule. Today he had Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic and Herbology. He breathed a little easier when he saw Herbology. Neville was his friend; he’d help him if things went too badly.
Rose handed him her schedule without a word and he gave her his. She seemed to have more or less the same classes that he did, which was good. She, too, could help him out if need be.
“I’m glad they’re giving Care of Magical Creatures to first-years now,” said Rose. “They never used to, but Hagrid convinced Professor Tweak that it was a good idea.”
Albus gulped. There was so much to learn.
Charms was first and Fred, Dominique, Rose and Albus said goodbye to their cousins and trooped up to the third floor for class. Albus’s nervousness reached an all-time high.
They encountered a group of first-year Slytherins going the same way, so they assumed that they would be having Charms with them. This prospect didn’t embolden Albus.
Scorpius hung around on the fringes of the Slytherin group, as though pretending he was one of them. Albus wondered when he would ever come around to the truth.
Charms was held in a big, airy classroom. Each desk sat two students, side-by-side, and on each desk was a small cage with a pair of white mice in it. Albus and Rose sat at one desk, Fred and Dominique at another. Scorpius had to sit with Robert Smithson. Both leaned as far away from each other as possible.
Professor Artemis was sitting at her desk, today wearing robes of palest pink. Her extremely long wand was clutched between the first two fingers of her right hand.
“Hello, class,” she said when they were seated. “I’m Professor Artemis. Welcome to Charms. A charm is possibly the most commonplace kind of spell. It can be anything from a Levitating Charm to a Repairing Charm to a Disillusionment Charm.”
She rapped herself on the head with the tip of her wand and her body slowly disappeared, head first until there was nothing but her apparently levitating wand. Most of the class gasped.
With a flourish, she came back into being. “Charms,” she began again “are useable in almost any circumstance. They are one of the most important elements of a well-rounded magical education.”
Rose was scribbling down every word Professor Artemis had said, but it was all passing rather dully through Albus’s brain.
“We’re going to begin with the Coloring Charm,” she said. “You’ve been paired up, each with a mouse. You’re going to try to turn your white mouse black. The incantation is Coloro Nero. You may begin.”
Albus was alarmed. He hadn’t expected to have to do magic so soon, but everyone was pointing their wands at their mice and muttering Coloro Nero.”
Feeling exceptionally stupid, Albus followed suit. There was a flash from the end of his wand, but his mouse still sat there, as white as ever.
Beside him, Albus heard Rose murmur “Coloro Nero” under her breath. There was a flash and her mouse was as grey as though it had been dipped in soot.
“Very good, Miss Weasley,” said Professor Artemis. “Fifteen points to Gryffindor. Try again, everyone.”
It continued for another fifteen minutes. Rose managed to turn her mouse completely black, but no one else had progressed beyond the sooty stage. Scorpius was jabbing his wand at his mouse so fiercely that Albus was afraid he’d kill it.
His own mouse was a light steel gray, which was certainly better than Fred’s (which was blue) or Dominique’s (which was chocolate brown).
Professor Artemis began talking about the theory behind the Coloring Charm and Albus’s interest began to fade. Just as he almost felt like writing Rose a note there was a terrific explosion.
A blackish haze surrounded Robert and Scorpius and the sounds of terrified squeaking could be heard from within. Professor Artemis waved her wand and the haze cleared.
Scorpius’s face was singed and his hair”his sleek blond hair”was a perfect jet-black. The mouse was still white.
There was a roar of laughter from the class. Scorpius looked about ready to kill. The hand holding his wand was shaking.
“I’ll get that for you, Mr. Malfoy,” said Professor Artemis, sweeping forward.
She tried several charms on the hair, including the Scouring Charm, but nothing worked. The hair which had been so blonde that it was almost white was now pitch-black.
“I’ll get back to you on this, Mr. Malfoy,” said Professor Artemis. “Accidental Charms are sometimes difficult to rectify, but I’m sure we’ll think of something.”
Scorpius looked resolutely at the stone floor, not meeting anyone’s eye. He looked absurd with his new hair color.
For homework, Professor Artemis gave them a sheet of paper with various shapes on it and they were instructed to color the insides of the shapes using the Coloring Charm. Neatness and shade were factors in the final grade.
Albus left the class feeling a definite sense of anticlimax. It had been easy; he’d done well.
Rose, Fred and Dominique roundly abused their work as they walked to Defense Against the Dark Arts. Even though Rose had gotten twenty points for Gryffindor by performing the charm correctly, she still felt that the mouse had had a little white left on him.
Scorpius walked behind the other first-years, head down. He looked about as miserable as anyone Albus had ever seen.
They arrived in the DADA classroom fifteen minutes later. This class was shared with the Hufflepuffs, who were already seated and looking nervously around them.
The classroom had large Ministry posters tacked up on the walls. The posters had curses and jinxes written on them, as well as instructions.
Albus sat down with Fred, feeling nervous about this class. This one would be harder than Charms; everyone said so.
Professor Dawlish was not in the room. There was a slide projector at the far end. Albus wondered if this would be a practical or a theoretical first class.
After they had waited for about three minutes, Professor Dawlish entered. He was stocky and of medium height. His robes were of a conservative black. He grinned at his students.
“Hello, class,” he said, leaning against his desk in what he clearly took to be a rakish manner. “I’m Professor John Dawlish, your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I’m here to teach you little rascals about the Dark side of magic and how to combat it.
“A Dark wizard or creature can and will attempt to harm wizards, witches or”Albus detected a slight sneer” Muggles. That is the simplest definition of Dark Magic. Every competent witch or wizard should know how to identify and fight a dangerous creature or magic-user.”
Dawlish turned to the slide projector and pressed a button. A picture of a pale, black-robed vampire with blood dripping from its mouth appeared. “Can anyone tell me what this is?”
Nearly every hand went up, including Albus’s. Everyone knew what a vampire looked like, even Muggles.
“You,” Dawlish pointed to a chunky Hufflepuff boy.
“It’s a vampire.”
Dawlish laughed. “No, it’s a hinkypunk, my dear boy.”
He turned around to look at the projector and jumped in surprise. There were a few snickers, the loudest from Fred.
“Terribly sorry, got my slides mixed up, this is fifth-year stuff,” said Dawlish, fiddling with the projector in an attempt to change the slide.
He eventually got the correct slide in and the lesson continued. It was mainly a one-hour lecture about the various creatures and a brief discussion of gangs of Dark wizards.
Albus was bored. He knew a lot of the material from books and was able to get five points for Gryffindor by correctly identifying a Red Cap.
No one took out a wand the entire lesson. Albus finally stopped taking notes and started playing a game of tic-tac-toe with Fred instead.
“So that’s our first lesson!” said Dawlish brightly, as the bell rang. “For homework, I would like a two-page essay on the various ways of repelling minor creatures such as grindylows. Due next Friday!
Albus made a note of it and then headed after his cousins, glad to leave the corrosive boredom of Dawlish’s classroom.
“Blimey, the man doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” hissed Fred as they left. “Kept calling dugbogs bugdogs!”
“He doesn’t seem like a very good teacher,” said Rose. “Daddy says he only got the job because he’s friends with Headmaster Tweak.”
It was now lunchtime. Albus’s stomach had settled and he was ravenous.
They met up with James in the Great Hall. He was sporting a big welt on his cheek and gulping down sandwiches.
“Parkinson’s potion went wrong, shot up in the air like a geyser,” he said when they asked about the welt. “Burned me.”
Albus told him about their first two classes between bites of ham sandwich. James nodded throughout and laughed when Dominique told him about Scorpius’s failed charm.
“What a git!” he said. “Where is he? I want to see his new mop!”
But Scorpius wasn’t in the Great Hall. Albus thought that he might have gone to send his parents an owl after DADA class.
“What do you have next?” he asked Rose.
She checked her schedule. “History of Magic and Herbology.”
Albus groaned. “Who teaches History of Magic?”
“Belinda Belby,” said Molly, pointing discreetly up at the teacher’s table. “She’s an absolute hag. Don’t cross her.”
Albus followed her pointing finger and saw that Belinda Belby was the squat, large-nosed witch he’d seen last night. She was one of the most singularly unattractive people he’d ever seen.
As they ate, James talked endlessly about his intention to try out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. The Potters and their cousins played Quidditch together a lot, so he had already gained some expertise.
Albus wished he was a second-year so he could try out for the team too. He usually played Chaser and was pretty good at it”though not as good as James was.
When lunch was over, the first-year Gryffindors trooped up to the second floor for History of Magic. The previous lessons hadn’t been too hard and Albus’s confidence was growing.
Scorpius appeared out of nowhere just before they entered the classroom. His face had new singes on it and Albus guessed that he had been trying to restore his hair to its original color. His efforts had been entirely futile.
History of Magic was held in the smallest classroom yet. It was stiflingly hot, with the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws squashed together in such a small space.
Professor Belby was already sitting at her desk, scrawling on a long sheet of parchment. When everyone was seated, she got up and made a predictable speech about how important History of Magic was and how much fun they would be having.
The warm, cramped room and Belby’s droning voice made Albus feel very tired. Rose (with whom he was again sharing a desk) had to poke him several times to keep him awake.
“Now we’re going to begin by discussing the very earliest history of the Wizarding World,” said Professor Belby, drawing dates on the chalkboard. “Who here can tell me”?”
Albus felt Rose raise her hand next to him, but he was too stupefied to care. He exchanged bored looks with Dominique, who was covertly trying to color her nails with the Coloring Charm.
The lesson dragged on. Albus made occasional notes, but for the most part he thought about all the homework he was going to have tonight.
Professor Belby had just gotten to the role of wizards in Ancient Rome when the bell mercifully rung. Everyone practically jumped out of their desks and ran for the door.
“Two-page essay on early uses of magic, due on Thursday!” she called at her class’s retreating forms.
“Finally!” gasped Fred when they were out in the deliciously cool corridor. “I thought the old bat would never stop talking about Egypt””
“I thought it was a good lesson,” said Rose primly. “History is veryimportant.”
No one dared question her, but Albus and Fred shared a look behind her back.
Herbology was next and it was the last class of the day. Albus did not feel nervous about it. He’d found his Herbology textbooks mildly interesting and he knew Neville would help him.
Being out on the grounds was exciting; Albus couldn’t wait to visit Hagrid and see his hut on Friday. He’d been warned to be cautious about Hagrid’s cooking, though.
The first-years had Herbology in Greenhouse One, a big spacious greenhouse that was filled with plants and herbs of all sizes, colors and shapes.
Professor Neville Longbottom was potting some Dittany when the class began. He wiped his muddy fingers on his dark-brown clothes, grinned at the class and said:
“Hey, class. I’m Professor Longbottom and we’re going to learn about Herbology in the next seven years. I think it’s a really rewarding thing to learn about and I think we’ll all have a good time.”
He went on to talk about the various plants, making the relatively dull subject rather interesting. He then got the students started planting Belladonna in long rows.
The work was easy enough and there was enough activity so that Albus and Fred could have a quiet conversation about the previous lessons.
“Artemis seems to know what she’s doing, but Dawlish”” Fred whistled. “The man can’t tell his wand from a twig.”
“Well, Rose said he was friends with the Headmaster,” said Albus, patting soil down around his plant. “That’s probably why he got the job.”
“How you doing there, Fred, Al?” asked Neville, walking over. “First day all right?”
They answered in the affirmative and he went over to check in the progress of Scorpius and Dominique, who had been partnered together.
After the Belladonna was planted, Neville instructed them to read up on its properties and write a one-page paper on them, due next Tuesday.
The sun was setting as the first-year Gryffindors headed up to the castle for dinner. Albus didn’t know if he had ever been so tired and the thought of all the homework made him groan internally.
“Neville’s a pretty cool teacher, eh?” said Dominique as they entered the castle. “He knows his stuff.”
“Yeah, Herbology’s kind of neat,” said Fred, stretching. “I dunno why everyone gave us homework, though. The spell practice for Charms, the paper for Dawlish, the essay for History and the paper on Belladonna. How can we do all that?”
Rose was about to give a lecture on the importance of homework, but they had just entered the Great Hall and she was mercifully forced to abate.
Dinner was just as good as breakfast and lunch had been. Albus started in on a pork chop while Rose and James compared their days.
“I had Care of Magical Creatures, Potions and double Charms,” said James, filling his plate with chips. “Magical Creatures was all right. Hagrid’s got some Doxies, teaching us about those.”
On Albus’s other side, Dominique was teasing Victoire about Teddy, while Fred and Molly were arguing about how good a teacher Dawlish was.
Albus didn’t have the energy to get involved in any of it. He simply ate and watched everyone around him, feeling drained and spent from the day’s lessons.
When all the food was gone, Gryffindor House headed up to the Tower. Albus was so full that he felt as though he was waddling rather than walking.
Scorpius had not said a single word to anyone from Gryffindor since the Sorting and he had not broken this vow of silence during dinner. He had eaten little and when inside the portrait hole, he sat down in a chair and stared bleakly at the fire.
Rose threw herself down on a sofa and began getting out parchment, quills and books. Fred groaned.
“Come on, Rose, nothing’s due for ages!”
She shook her head in exasperation and said: “Ages? The Charms exercise is due on Wednesday!”
Fred protested further, but Albus, tired as he was, got out his sheet of paper and his wand.
It was tedious, difficult work. Great care and control had to be kept over the charm or it would color outside the shape.
They also had to switch between black, red, blue, pink and green. By the time Albus had completed the work, it was nine o’clock and he’d accidently colored his white trainer green.
“That’s done!” he said, throwing it aside at last. Rose had finished a quarter of an hour ago. Fred was asleep in an armchair. Dominique was still working on hers, tongue between her teeth.
James walked over from where he’d been talking about the Quidditch trials with a bunch of rowdy second-year boys. “Homework, Al?”
“Just finished,” said Albus. “You?”
“Some Potions paper,” he said, with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’ll get to it tomorrow. Wanna play Gobstones?”
Albus agreed and woke up Fred, who was also up for it. Dominique joined in as well when she’d finished her work. Rose merely scribbled her Defense essay, occasionally looking up from it to issue dire warnings about Hogwarts drop-outs.
As Albus played Gobstones with his brother and cousins, he felt relieved. He’d been so worried about his first day, so worried that he’d mess up. And he hadn’t. He was alright. He’d survived.
Just seven years of surviving to go.