Lydia's Story

Lydia woke the next morning, feeling happy for the first time since arriving at Hogwarts. She saw the sun shining through a space in the curtains around her bed, leaving a trail of light across her blankets. Sighing happily, she laid in her bed for a few minutes, her mind replaying her conversation with Harry from the night before.

When she had first seen him standing in the doorway, she was sure he would only ridicule her like his friends had. Yet he had been very friendly to her, and Lydia soon realized that he wasn't like the others. He understood how she felt, and this alone helped to heal many of her wounds.

Stretching, Lydia realized for the first time that the dormitory seemed strangely silent. The only sound that met her ears was the song of a bird drifting through the open window. She must have slept in, after being up so late into the night.

Pulling back her curtains, she looked at the deserted room around her. Not wanting to be too late, Lydia quickly pulled on her robes and brushed her hair, her pendant already hanging around her neck. Grabbing her wand, she hurried from the dormitory to the empty common room below, and out through the hidden door.

Much to her surprise, Lydia soon found her way back to the Great Hall, where the rest of the school sat eating their breakfast. As she made her way along the Gryffindor table, she saw that many of the students had clustered at one end, leaving a number of empty seats at the far end. Making her way to the furthest seat, Lydia sat down and began to load her plate with food. She could feel eyes following her from all the tables, but her patience had been restored after her talk with Harry.

She continued to eat happily, keeping her eyes away from the people staring around her. She barely noticed Professor McGonagall making her way along the table, handing out timetables to the Gryffindors. When at last she got hers, she saw that her first class was double Potions with the Slytherins.

Just my luck, she thought with a sigh, looking up to where Professor Snape sat at the High Table. He looked by far to be the coldest teacher there, seated between Professor McGonagall and a teacher with a patched hat covering her fly-away hair. He seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, scowling at his plate as he stabbed a few eggs with his fork.

"So what's your timetable like?" asked a drawling voice behind her, jolting her from her thoughts. Lydia turned in surprise as Draco reached for her timetable, scanning it briefly with his silvery eyes.

"Looks like we'll be having Potions and Care of Magical Creatures together!" he said, smiling down at Lydia. "When you're done breakfast, I'll show you the way to Potions."

Lydia looked down at her plate, which still held half of her eggs and a few slices of toast.

"I - I think I'm done," she said quickly, wanting to leave the sea of staring eyes behind her. "I'll need to go get my books, though."

"Me too," said Draco, as Crabbe and Goyle lumbered up beside him. "Meet me in the Entrance Hall when you're ready, okay?" Handing Lydia back her timetable, Draco made his way out of the Great Hall, Crabbe and Goyle following behind him. Grabbing one last slice of toast, Lydia left the table and made the winding journey back to the Gryffindor common room. Up in the dormitory, Lydia hurried to dig out her supplies, emptying most of her trunk onto her bed. At last, she had shoved the books and supplies she would need for the morning into her book bag, along with some parchment, ink and quills. Grabbing her cauldron, she hurried back to the Entrance Hall, where Draco and his cronies stood waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

Following Draco, Lydia was led down to the dungeons, the cold air refreshing against her skin. He led her into a deserted classroom, its walls lined with shelves that held jars of pickled animals. The creepy aura reminded Lydia distinctly of the classes at Durmstrang.

"We'll be able to get a good seat," Draco said, leading the way to the front of the class. "Professor Snape is the best teacher at Hogwarts. My father's known him for years, they were friends back in school. Too bad my father's ... away, he would have been happy to hear that Professor Snape's teaching two classes now."

Lydia gave him a puzzled look, which he tried to ignore. What was he going to say about his father?

Before she could say anything, a group of students came through the door. Lydia took the seat next to Draco, leaving Crabbe and Goyle to sit together on his other side. Over the next few minutes, Lydia watched as a stream of students made their way into the classroom. There weren't many students, and the class seemed to be made up mostly of Slytherins. Lydia remembered reading in one of her letters that only students who achieved "Outstanding" on their OWLs could attend NEWT level Potions.

The last couple of students to make their way into the room were Harry, Ron, and Hermione. As they made their way to a table in the back, Lydia saw Harry cast her a smile from behind his friends' backs. His face dropped quickly at the sight of Draco sitting next to her, and he turned his attention back to the others.

What was that about? Lydia wondered. Her thoughts were interrupted as the door creaked open one last time.

Snape made his entrance, his cloak billowing behind him as he made his way to his desk at the front of the class. The class immediately fell silent as he took the register, calling their names in a bored voice.

When he finished, he looked up at the class, scanning the room with his cold black eyes.

"Before we begin, I would like to make one thing quite clear," he said, his icy voice carrying through the silent classroom. "Most of you who have made it here have proven that you have come to understand the composition and use of magical potions," Lydia saw his eyes rest on the back of the class, his face giving a slight twitch. "This means that my expectations of this class will be very high. There will be no tolerance for any childish behaviour here, and all assignments will be marked with the highest of standards."

Having finished, he assigned them a potion with the flick of his wand. More difficult than any they had seen yet, the students set to work carefully measuring and adding their ingredients.

Potion-making had always come naturally to Lydia. She had a good eye for measuring and good attention to detail, both of which she had inherited from her mother. Snape made his way around the room, stopping to criticize most of the students. As he came to where Lydia sat carefully measuring her beetle eyes, he glanced down at her potion and continued without comment.

"That's a good sign," Draco whispered to her as Snape moved out of ear shot.

Sure enough, at the end of class, Lydia's potion was one of the few that issued the proper rainbow-coloured vapour. The class set to work corking samples of their potions for testing. While Draco brought hers to the teacher for her, Lydia cleaned out her cauldron with a flick of her wand.

A sudden explosion at the front of the class filled the room with dark green smoke. Coughing from her seat, Lydia squinted through the haze and saw Ron standing dumbfounded next to Snape's desk, the twisted remains of his flagon clasped in his hand. Snape cleared the mess with a flick of his wand, his expression shifting between a smirk and a scowl.

"Don't bother submitting samples that are worthless, Weasley," he said coldly. "My time is precious, don't waste it!"

Ron's face was bright red as he returned to his seat. Students began to gather their supplies, anxious to get out of the smoke that was beginning to smell of rotten eggs. Packing the rest of her things into her bag and cauldron, Lydia was the first one ready to leave.

Glancing up at Snape's desk, Lydia saw him once again fixing her with his unblinking stare. His eyes narrowed as she made eye contact, suspicion written clearly across his face. Before Lydia could react, a bell signalling the end of class sounded, and Lydia found herself following a laughing Draco into the corridor.

*~*~*~*~*

Trying to push the image of Snape's cold eyes out of her mind, Lydia made her way to her Transfiguration class, following a group of Gryffindors. Upon reaching the classroom, she was greeted by the sight of Professor McGonagall standing at the front of the class, the entering students falling silent beneath her sharp gaze. Lydia saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione sitting together at the back of the class, so she hurried for a seat in the first row.

The class itself proved to be rather uneventful. They spent most of the time taking a long note on advanced transfiguration, only having a bit of time to practice Conjuring Spells at the end of class.

As the bell sounded, Lydia hurried to pack her things away. As students bustled out of the class, one of them knocked her bag off the desk, sending books flying across the floor.

Sighing, Lydia bent down to scoop up the nearest books, throwing them in a heap into her cauldron. She searched the floor for the others, crawling beneath a nearby desk for her Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6. Pulling her head out from under the desk, she was startled by the sight of Professor McGonagall standing over her.

"I believe this is yours, Miss Meliflua," she said, holding out a book. Taking it, Lydia saw that it was her treasured Quick Quidditch Tips.

"Oh, yes," Lydia said with a shy smile. "Thank you!"

"I heard that you played Quidditch at Durmstrang," Professor McGonagall said. "You set a few records apparently. What position did you play?"

"I - I was a Chaser on my house team," Lydia answered, the colour rising in her cheeks as she stood to her feet.

"The Gryffindor team needs a new Chaser," McGonagall continued. "Have you considered trying out for the team?"

"Yeah, I've been thinking about it," Lydia said with a sigh, remembering her conversation with Harry. "But I'm not sure if the Gryffindors would really want me on their team."

Professor McGonagall's eyes softened at the expression on Lydia's face. "With talent like yours, I'm sure the team will be glad to have you. But it's your decision, and you must do what you feel is best."

Thanking her, Lydia added the books to the growing pile in her cauldron. She made her way to the dormitory, her arms laden with her large pile of supplies.

Her mind still on Quidditch, Lydia didn't notice the commotion in the corridor ahead of her until she was hit over the head with a piece of chalk.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, pulling her mind out of its stupor. Peering over her pile of books, she saw a wide-mouthed face leering at her from down the corridor. Hovering a couple of feet above the ground, the poltergeist had paused part way through drawing crude caricatures of what Lydia could only guess were the teachers all over the walls.

"Oh goodie, a new face!" the poltergeist cackled, his eyes shining wickedly. He spiralled through the air towards Lydia, stopping a foot above her head. "You're carrying far too much, you know! You'll hurt yourself if you're not careful! Here, let me lighten your load!"

Before Lydia could react, he grabbed her cauldron and zoomed out of her reach, throwing her books and supplies around the corridor.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Lydia shouted angrily, as she dodged a book that had been shot at her face.

"Now, now, no need to get cranky!" he scolded, waggling his finger at her. "You can thank me later! Always glad to help, I am!" With that, he tossed the empty cauldron at her and zoomed away cackling.

The cauldron landed at her feet with a hollow clang. Lydia gaped in disbelief at her possessions, which were scattered all across the corridor.

"I see Peeves has been here," said a dreamy voice behind her. Turning, Lydia saw a girl with dirty blonde hair appear through a door along the corridor. She was looking down the corridor, her protuberant eyes scanning the mess unblinkingly.

"Well, if Peeves is the name of that cackling maniac, I guess you're right," Lydia said angrily, still in a temper. Sighing, she once again starting picking up the books around her, shooting them into her cauldron.

"I'll help you," the girl offered in the same misty voice.

"Oh, um, thanks," Lydia said, a bit surprised. The two of them worked in silence to pick up the rest of the supplies. When the last book had been thrown into the cauldron, Lydia heaved another sigh.

"Thanks a lot!" she said to the girl, giving a tired smile. "I don't really know you yet. I'm Lydia." She stretched out a hand to the girl, who was watching her unblinkingly.

"Yes, I know you are. My name's Luna Lovegood," the girl replied, shaking Lydia's outstretched hand. Lydia noticed a Prefect's badge gleaming on Luna's robes, though it was hanging slightly lopsided.

"Well, I guess I'll be dropping my stuff off," Lydia said, starting to feel uncomfortable under Luna's unblinking gaze. "It was nice to meet you, Luna! I'll see you later, I'm sure."

They parted ways, Luna going down to the Great Hall for lunch while Lydia continued on her way to the dormitories. When she finally reached her bed, she dumped her cauldron gratefully onto her blankets. Throwing the things she would need for Herbology into her book bag, she hurried down to the Great Hall to get a bit of lunch before class started.

*~*~*~*~*

Getting a few directions from Nearly Headless Nick, who had settled himself next to Lydia for lunch, Lydia found her way to the greenhouses just in time for class. Double Herbology with the Hufflepuffs would have been interesting, if it wasn't for the fact that all the students were too scared to come near her. Neville almost fainted when Professor Sprout paired him with Lydia to prune a particularly ticklish Retorcerine Shrub.

Lydia spotted Ron and Harry working at their own plant not far away. Their shrub seemed to be putting up quite a fight, squirming away from their shears every time they tried to get close. Catching Lydia's eye, Harry cast her another small smile from behind Ron's back, rolling his eyes at Ron's vain attempts to wrestle the plant into submission.

Hermione was working with a Hufflepuff girl further away, and seemed to be having much more success than Ron. Their shrub didn't seem to object as they trimmed away the dead leaves. In fact, it seemed to rather enjoy the treatment.

Looking back at her own plant, Lydia saw it lean carefully out of Neville's reach, whose hands were shaking far too badly to trim it properly anyway. Picking up her own shears, Lydia felt that class couldn't end soon enough.