“Wake up! Albus, wake UP!” Albus was dimly aware that a voice was calling him but he didn’t want to listen to it. He’d been having a pleasant dream. He couldn’t remember what about, only that he’d been flying - on a broomstick he thought - and that it made him very happy. Therefore, he did not wish to be dragged from that joyful place by the distant yet incessant calls.
“Albus! You’re going to be late for you FIRST day!” There was a slight pause from the far-off murmurs before a lighter, feminine sounding voice spoke.
“I’ll handle this.” At first, nothing happened. Albus was comfortably wavering between consciousness and the peaceful place he wished to return to. However, he received a rude-awakening in the form of a surge of cold water gushing over his face, filtering into his nose and mouth, nearly asphyxiating him in the process.
He started, panic etched over his sodden face as he sat bolt up-right, coughing and gazing about wildly. He saw that his bed-side had attracted a small crowd. Frank, Xander, Theron and Rose - with an empty cup in her hand - were all gathered round, peering at him incredulously. They were all freshly showered and dressed in their robes, evidently ready to start the day. They even had their bags already full of the books they would need for the day. Albus hadn’t even looked at his timetable yet.
Rose rolled her eyes disapprovingly. “Honestly, Al, the boys have been trying to wake you for ages. You slept through two alarms and a lot of shouting; how were you that tired?” Albus shook his head, still not feeling quite up to talking yet. He had a strong feeling Tristan was not joking about that herb helping you get a good night’s sleep. He glanced over to the boy’s bed which looked barely slept in. The only sign that someone had been in that bed last night was the bed-side cabinet drawer which was slightly ajar.
Albus turned back to the others. “How long have I got and for what subject?” he inquired, scrambling out of bed and tearing off his jersey T-shirt. Those present averted their eyes subtly as he did so and Frank answered his inquiry.
“Ten minutes, mate, for Transfiguration, followed by History of Magic; no time for a shower, I’m afraid.” Albus grimaced and nodded promising to meet them downstairs in five minutes. He quickly extricated himself from his pyjamas before hastily putting on his black robes and shoving his books into his bags with his parchment, ink and quill. He had but seconds to look in the mirror. His hair was sticking up in more different directions than he could count; he tried to smooth it over, but to no avail. It was one of the many traits he had inherited from his father.
The laces on his shoes were not done up, but he did not care and didn’t have the time to. He ran down the spiral staircase, two steps at a time until he reached his friends, waiting for him with barely disguised agitation. Xander was the first to spot him and gave him a brief round of applause. “That must be some sort of record.” Rose turned swiftly to inspect what he was referring to and rolled her eyes nodding.
“Yes, yes; pity it was necessary, though.” She looked him up and down as they walked to the portrait hole. “You do look a bit of a mess, Albus.” He nodded to indicate he was aware of that fact and the portrait hole swung open, revealing the maze of staircases in front of them. Something seemed to occur to them all at the same time as they gazed upon the moving paths.
“Erm, not being funny or anything, but...where is the Transfiguration classroom?” Xander verbalised what everyone else was afraid to. They all glanced round at each other with matching dumfounded expressions.
“Well,” began Rose, glancing at her watch, “we have exactly three minutes in which to work that out.” Frank’s hand shot up.
“Make that four by my watch.” Rose gave him a withering look which Frank returned with a mocking smile. Theron was next to voice his concern.
“Seriously though, guys, where do we even start? I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but this school’s pretty big.” Rose rolled her eyes and was about to respond to inform him that he was stating the obvious when something made her shiver through to her fingertips. Her breath caught in her throat and she staggered with the shock of it. She didn’t have to look far to see the source of her reaction, for before her was the pearly white spectre of Nearly Headless Nick.
“Well, hello, there first years! How lovely to meet you. I am Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington! And who, may I ask, do I have the pleasure of speaking to?” They all introduced themselves politely (almost all of them, anyway). Theron, paralysed by utter disbelief at what he was seeing, merely gawped open-mouthed, something Sir Nicholas seemed to find simultaneously amusing and off-putting.
Albus remembered how his father told him that Nick could get excessively chatty when provoked and, upon hearing Xander ask the question: “Wait a second “ aren’t you Nearly Headless Nick?” Albus decided to intervene, catching sight of the time which informed him that they had but two minutes left.
“Nick “ er “ Sir Nicholas, I’m really sorry but we’re going to be late for Transfiguration, only, we don’t know where the classroom is. I was wondering “ if it’s not too much trouble “ if you would be so kind as to show us the way?” He ended the sentence hopefully, but he needn’t have worried, Nick’s mood had not been soured by Xander’s inquiry.
Sir Nicholas nodded happily. “Why, of course, my boy! I don’t suppose your father told you about our friendship? He came to my deathday with your parents,” he cast a brief glance upon Rose,” and we had many a pleasant conversation.” Albus nodded, assuring Nick that his father looked upon those times fondly. This seemed to please Sir Nicholas enough for him to glide in front of them, returning to Xander’s question and regaling them with the story of his demise. The group threw furtive glances at each other as they listened and interjected when pause allowed, keeping Nick happy.
At last they arrived at a large set of oak doors having traversed two floors and wound round several corridors. Nick had just drawn breath to issue further complaints about still being denied a position on the Headless Hunt, but was fortunately interrupted by a rather impatient Rose.
“Um, Sir Nicholas, is this the place; only we’re five minutes late for our first class?” Ignoring Frank’s mumble of ‘four minutes’, they awaited Nick’s answer. He appeared slightly put-out to be interrupted mid-flow, but nonetheless nodded (his head wobbled precariously as he did so) and bade them farewell, floating through the wall opposite.
The first years all looked round at each other for a moment. Realising that none of them were moving, Rose sighed and shook her head exasperatedly. “For goodness’ sake!” she hissed and she took a small step forward and swung the doors open, perhaps a little more vigorously than intended, and they caused an embarrassingly loud creak, alerting their silent classmates and their new Transfiguration teacher, Professor Swinburne, to their presence. He surveyed them with a critical eye and said nothing as they stood in the doorway. Rose was the first to offer her excuses.
“I’m really sorry we’re late, Professor Swinburne, only we got lost-” Before she could finish her grovelling, Frank interjected.
“And then we saw Nearly Headless Nick and asked him how to get here. He told us he’d take us but I swear he took us a longer route just so he could finish his story of how he...you know...” Frank made a gesture of beheading by drawing a line part the way across his throat with his index finger. Professor Swinburne raised an eyebrow briefly but otherwise maintained a neutral expression. The others, Rose in particular, shot incredulous looks at Frank who shrugged defensively.
After a few more seconds of silence Professor Swinburne addressed them. “Well then, are you going to come in and take your seats, or are you going to delay our proceedings further with more tedious explanations?” he asked the rhetorical question with heavy sarcasm.
They took that as their cue to take their seats. Xander and Theron sat together towards the back of the room, probably too embarrassed to venture closer. Rose, on point of principle, refused to sit next to Frank and took the vacant seat next to Effie. The only spaces remaining were a space next to an amiable looking Hufflepuff girl who Albus vaguely recognised as Cassia Lowe from sorting, and another seat next to a dark haired boy sitting near the back of the room.
Frank swiftly occupied the space next to Cassia while Albus wandered over to the dark haired boy, who, as he approached, smiled a brilliant half-smile at him. Albus identified him then as Tristan Magnus, the effective cause of his tardiness. He sat down next to the boy and pulled out his book while simultaneously hissing at Tristan
“Thanks for the wake-up call, mate, that herb you gave me made me oversleep!” The boy chuckled lightly and replied to Albus in a hushed tone.
“Told you it’d work.” He paused for a moment, looking towards Albus’ hands before continuing. “Do you know you’ve brought your Herbology book to your Transfiguration lesson?” Albus was about to tell him not to be stupid and that of course he’d brought the correct books with him until he gazed down at the leather bound book in his hands entitled: A History of Herbology by Flora Silva.
“I suppose you could look up that ‘herb’ now if you wanted.” Tristan added playfully. Albus was not in the mood and shoved the book back into his satchel before asking Tristan to share and he obliged soundlessly.
Due to this exchange, he’d missed Professor Swinburne’s introduction, so wasn’t entirely sure what they were supposed to be doing. His classmates appeared to be reading the first ten pages of their Transfiguration books, and most were nearly half way through before Albus knew to start. He and Tristan had only got through a couple of pages before Professor Swinburne clapped his hands together.
“Right, well, if everyone is up to speed, I have but one question before we continue: Mr Potter and Mr Magnus.” Albus looked up panicked, wondering what on earth Swinburne was going to ask them; he had only read the ‘Introduction to Transfiguration’ section and had not even got on to the methodology of transforming a toothpick into a pin.
“Why are you sharing a Transfiguration book? I’m sure it has not escaped even your notice that everyone else has their individual ones.” Albus swallowed hard and inhaled deeply as he grasped for a suitable response. He had already been late; he didn’t really need to add this to his list of faults. However, before he could answer, Tristan interjected.
“Sorry Professor Swinburne, I left mine upstairs in my dormitory and accidentally brought my Herbology book instead. Downright stupid of me, really. Can I share with Albus in the mean time, as he was so kind as to let me in the first place?”
Professor Swinburne surveyed him critically, his lips tightening as he did. “I do not care for your tone, Mr Magnus. I think I should take five points from,” he paused a moment, an odd smirk playing on his lips, “Gryffindor for your forgetfulness. I should take more for your peers’ lack of punctuality, so be thankful it is not more than five.” Tristan nodded curtly and adopted a slightly steely expression which did not compliment his gentle features. Professor Swinburne continued, softening his expression marginally.
“You may share your book for this lesson, but I implore you to remember it next time Mr Magnus.” Another curt nod met this request and Tristan’s expression remained stony.
“Now who can summarise for me Proteus’ three laws of Transfiguration?” He was addressing the whole class now and Albus was dimly aware of his cousin Rose shooting her hand up into the air to answer the question. He wasn’t listening, though and instead leaned towards Tristan and uttered in a hushed tone:
“Thanks, mate, you didn’t have to-” His friend (he had earned that title now) cut him off before he could finish his sentence.
“I know, but I wanted to. Just don’t do it again, you git, I’m not covering for you next time.” He smiled his brilliant smile and turned to face the front of the class. Most of the session passed with tedious methodology and various rules and techniques. Albus was more concerned with the practical side of things and he got his opportunity towards the second half of the lesson when Professor Swinburne taught them the incantation for transfiguring a toothpick into a pin. Most of the students achieved nothing more than sharpening their toothpick. One, Rufus Cummings, inexplicably set his on fire. Tristan gave up after a couple of attempts and put the toothpick to its practical use; something which Polly and Diana spotted on the table next to them and giggled at. Albus thought his seemed slightly shinier, although still mostly wooden, apart from the polished pin-head at the top.
Albus glanced across the room to Frank. Having broken his toothpick pretty early on, he was ‘helping’ Cassia with hers. Rose was nearby, holding a shining new pin between her fingers, while Effie had made a strange hybrid: a wooden pin. Still, it was closer than Albus could get. At the end of the class, Professor Swinburne assured them that they had done very well considering their inexperience and their homework was to practice the incantation and write notes on Proteus’ Laws. He also promised them that their workload would not always be that light. Albus thought that was a joke, but Swinburne wasn’t laughing and neither was anyone else, so he stifled his chuckle threatening to escape.
They were dismissed and had ten minutes to make their way to History of Magic. Once they were out of ear-shot, Tristan began his complaint. “Merlin’s beard, History of Magic better be less rubbish than that. Between losing points for my house and not being able to do so much as sharpen my toothpick, I honestly don’t know what my favourite part was.” Albus was going to retort that he only tried a couple of times before giving up, but didn’t feel it would improve Tristan’s mood. “Professor Binns...sounds alright. He can’t be worse than Swinburne, anyway.” Tristan continued. Albus raised his eyebrows, knowing full well that was not entirely correct.
“Tristan, Professor Binns is dead.” Albus informed him. His friend didn’t seem to initially understand though, adopting a rather puzzled expression before saying:
“Then who’s teaching the class?” Albus laughed, as did Frank and Rose who had caught up behind them. Rose sidled up next to Tristan, flicking some of her auburn hair out of her eyes before offering her explanation.
“Professor Binns is.” Tristan still looked a tad confused, but also slightly disturbed. Rose laughed and introduced herself and Frank who was rather bewildered as to how he hadn’t met Tristan before, but didn’t pursue it. They had History of Magic with the Ravenclaws, although did not have much time to meet any of them as Professor Binns drifted through the wall of the classroom. A few jumped (Feronia Fell tipped backwards of her seat again), however this was the most exciting event of the lesson. They discovered after a matter of minutes that Professor Binns’ teaching style was as dead as he was. They made reams and reams of notes on the ancient battle of the centaurs and wizards in the sixth century (one of the precursors to the ill-feeling between centaurs and wizards that still sparsely remains today).
By the end of their lesson they were starving and were glad for lunch. Having missed breakfast, Albus ate heartily. He needed his energy for Charms and Herbology this afternoon. He found it far more easy-going than his morning’s lessons. Charms was taught by a small witch, around the same age as Albus’ mother, named Professor Nerissa Nimble and she was excitable in showing them the correct wrist-actions for the three beginners’ charms. They would be practicing the first of their charms next session. Despite having been in Ravenclaw in her youth, Professor Nimble was not at all biased towards them and awarded points to both Ravenclaw and Gryffindor in turn for their achievements.
By Herbology the Gryffindors were all rather exhausted and were surprised that they still hadn’t had a class with Slytherin as they shared their Herbology class with Hufflepuff. This was the class that Frank was least looking forward to, however. For the teacher of this session was Neville Longbottom, his father. Despite hanging out in the back of the class with Albus, Rose, Tristan and Effie for support, Frank was still dragged into discussion by his father. When Neville asked what climate the Vincula weed favoured he said: “I know at least one person here knows the answer to that question.” At this, he threw a hopeful look in the direction of his son who averted his gaze and suddenly seemed to find something particularly interesting about his shoes.
Neville appeared to be slightly put out but carried on in spite of it. He only made a couple of slip-ups revealing the close relationship between Frank and himself. He accidentally called Frank ‘Frankie’ at one point (causing many titters from Xander, Theron and Tobias) and congratulated him on a correct answer with a pat on the back. Frank told them after the class that it had been far worse for Clara when she started, so he was hopeful that his father was getting more used to having his children as his pupils.
During dinner, Rose informed Albus that Hagrid had asked whether they wanted to visit him in his house for tea and cakes after dinner. Having received several large piles of homework from all his teachers, Albus wasn’t sure he wanted to. But Hagrid was a family friend and, as Rose reminded him, their family owed Hagrid a lot.
“He says we can bring some friends, if you fancy it?” She aimed this question at their immediate company of Tristan, Effie, Frank, Xander and Theron.
“I’m all right, thanks,” said Tristan, finishing his mouthful of shepherd’s pie. “I’ve got a pile of work to do and stuff.” Rose nodded, appreciating the excuse of work (it’s the only one she would recognise). The others accepted, quite curious about their giant friend. They polished off their puddings of pavalova or spotted dick and bade farewell to Tristan who trundled off in the direction of Gryffindor tower, before making their way out of the castle towards Hagrid’s hut - a trip their parents had made countless times before.
Albus knocked on the door and had to wait but a few moments before Hagrid’s beaming face appeared in front of them. His eyes widened slightly at the sheer number of guests, but he didn’t seem to mind. “’Ello there, Al, Rosie!” He gave them each a hug in turn before turning to the others. “And who might you be? Oh, where are my manners? Come in, come in; make yer selves at home.” They each took a seat round Hagrid’s round kitchen table as he passed them each a flagon of tea which would take them some time to get through and put an assortment of his infamous rock cakes and slightly ill-formed looking gingerbread men on the table.
“Hagrid,” Rose started, swallowing a gulp of tea to wash down a particularly hard part of a rock cake, “this is Xander Haskell,” she gestured first to the burly blonde boy, “Theron Ryder,” then to his tanned friend, “Effie Hunter,” the petite sable locked girl and lastly, “and you know Frank Longbottom, Neville’s son.” Frank chided her for that introduction, but she ignored him. Hagrid smiled gently at each of them in turn before turning to Xander.
“Haskell? That sounds familiar...did yer dad do Care o’ Magical Creatures when he was at school?” Xander looked faintly embarrassed, the first time Albus had seen him so. He replied calmly, however:
“Um, I don’t think so. But um, he would’ve been in the Daily Prophet a few years back.” Hagrid didn’t pick up on the awkwardness of the situation for he merely carried on with what he plainly thought was pleasant inquiry.
“Oh right, wrote fer ‘em, did he?” Albus was trying to signal to Hagrid to stop, but his frantic kick under the table missed and hit a very confused Effie. He threw her an apologetic smile but she did not return it and refocused her attention on poor Xander who was beginning to look more uneasy.
“Er, no. He was um...he’s in Azkaban.” Hagrid’s eyes widened realising his mistake as comprehension dawned on him. He mumbled his apologies, adding that he remembered now. Albus secretly wondered what Mr Haskell was in Azkaban for, but felt that Xander would probably tell them in his own time.
“He’s not half as messed up as you’d think he’d be by it though.” Theron piped up in his direct manner that was going to take some getting used to. Xander chuckled however, thanking him sarcastically. Theron continued all the same, an unstoppably candid force of nature. “Seriously, mate, you wouldn’t think it to look at you. Unlike some of our fellow Gryffindors I could mention...” Albus knew who he meant and was surprised to see Effie throw him a reproachful look.
“What?” Theron started again. “He is a bit much with the mystery and everything. I mean he’s all right, but has anyone actually talked to him before this morning? He keeps himself to himself a bit, that’s all.” Albus turned to Hagrid before offering his explanation.
“Our fellow Gryffindor Tristan Magnus, he’s a bit...well - he avoids company a bit. But I talked to him last night and he said something about not having a dad and he got a bit weird when I mentioned his mum as well. But he’s nice,” he turned to Theron at this point, “and we should give him a chance.” Theron held his hands up in defence, a large bit of gingerbread lodged in his mouth. He was obviously trying to say something, but the biscuit acted as a hindrance. It was Hagrid however who spoke up next.
“Tristan Magnus...yes, Professor Weylin mentioned him at the start of the year. Said he was to be ‘protected’ or summat. I dunno who his parents are me-self, but I know he lives with his cousins. You know, the Larks.” Albus was shocked at this. Tristan said he played Quidditch at his uncle’s house, but he never said he lived with them. Knowing that his mother was alive, Albus was curious as to why Tristan didn’t live with her. However, something seemed to have clicked with Effie.
“The Larks? You mean like, Morgana Lark? The first year Slytherin?” she asked her question with curiosity but the boys, Xander in particular, looked horrified.
“He’s related to Slytherins? Merlin’s beard! I’ll be sleeping with one eye open from now on.” Albus shook his head disapprovingly at the same time as Rose and Effie tutted. Albus felt it wouldn’t help his friend’s cause if he mentioned that he came from long line of Slytherins, so he remained quiet, watching Hagrid’s strained expression.
“Oh dear, I shouldnt’ve said that,” he groaned, taking a swig of the warm brew, “just go easy on him, is all. Professor Weylin wouldn’t tell us exactly what happened to the lad, which is strange, ‘cause Weylin’s isn’t one fer secrets like Dumbledore were.” He smiled fondly at the memory of his former friend before continuing.
“Whatever it were, anyway, just treat him like normal, righ’?” They all nodded, unable to say anything in reply as they were battling with Hagrid’s fist-sized rock cakes. The rest of their visit passed with less tension. They conversed easily about their work load and their troubled start to the day with Professor Swinburne, who, Hagrid assured them, would warm up in time. Frank complained about the difficulties of having a parent as a Professor, which Theron still maintained could be a good thing. Before long it was getting dark and Hagrid urged them to return to the castle before they all got him in trouble. They waved him goodbye, thanking him for their half drunk flagons and the cakes which were largely going to be fed to Nemea.
Rose told them that she was off to the library to practice the wand techniques that Professor Nimble instructed them to do and complete Neville’s essay on the differences between ranawort and stellio root (she had completed both Swinburne’s and Professor Binns’ assignments during her lunch break). Albus, Frank, Effie, Theron and Xander returned to Gryffindor tower, determined to do the practical exercises at least. Albus and Frank resolved to copy Rose’s Transfiguration notes and her essay on the centaur Chiron the Great’s defeat at the hands of Demetrius Lapith. Frank could easily complete the Herbology assignment and promised to lend it to them all afterwards.
When the portrait swung open, even over the jokes and guffaws of Frank, Theron and Xander he could hear frantic whispers followed by the sound of a chair being knocked over. They entered the common room and found Tristan in there alone. It was unusual for the time, but they were holding Quidditch trials for the older members so they were either taking part or out supporting. He replaced the chair he had apparently knocked over and greeted them in an oddly flustered way.
“Hey, you erm, surprised me. Just doing some work.” He gestured to his parchment bearing the History of Magic essay title and several broken toothpicks. Tristan noted this and hastily added: “Yeah, it’s not going too well. Finished Swinburne’s notes, though, if you want to have a look at them?” Albus thanked him, and took them from his outstretched hand. It would be better to have two to copy from anyway rather than just Rose’s. However, when Albus compared the two after Tristan had told them he was going off to bed, he noticed they were exactly the same from the phrasing right down to the punctuation.
He stared off to the staircase that his friend had just disappeared up as the rest of the group flicked their wands back and forth (with varying grace). Maybe Rose had already leant Tristan her notes and he was just very poor at copying...maybe. That didn’t bother him half as much as who Tristan was talking to earlier. The frantic whispers: it could only have been Tristan, there was no other explanation. Albus put it down to him practicing incantations, perhaps attempting the Transfiguration spell on his ninth toothpick. However, at the back of his mind he heard the echoing words of Hagrid: “Professor Weylin wouldn’t tell us exactly what happened to the lad, which is strange ‘cause Weylin’s not one fer secrets like Dumbledore were.” Well, Albus didn’t like secrets either, so he would find out Tristan’s - no matter what.
Albus Potter and the Midnight Thief by Alice Mac
Chapter Endnotes:
Big thanks to those who have read/reviewed - any feedback is really helpful!