The Rules of Science

CHAPTER TWO

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Diffusibility: The ability of a gas to mix completely with another gas.

-From Chemistry Concepts and Problems

~

I awaken the next morning feeling somewhat better, my depression replaced with apprehension. I hope a shower will make me feel better. If I can find one.

I sit up and slowly lower my feet onto a rug that I would find stretched underneath the bed to accommodate either side. I had, unwittingly, gotten out of the wrong side of the bed that day.

The next half of an hour is spent searching for a door, besides the one I had entered, and only results in a good deal of bruises, things falling off of things (I hope they're all nearly irreplaceable, I think nastily), and a lot of yells and cursing. After the fruitless half hour, I make my way back to my bed with less bumping, for I am beginning to learn where things are, and sit on my bed to pout and grumble until someone came to force me bodily from the room.

"Perhaps you might try getting out on the right side of the bed instead of the wrong one." A calm female voice breaks into my thoughts.

I startle wildly. "May I ask who is speaking?" I ask nervously, after calming myself down.

"Judith," the voice replies.

"Er. May I ask where you are and how you got into my room?"

I hear a small chuckle. "I'm sorry, you might see the humor in a moment if you aren't in a terribly black mood. I'm hanging on the wall on the far side from where you are sitting. I'm a portrait, I've been here for years."

"Hmph," I say, unwilling to see the humor. It does not amuse me that she'd been watching me banging about the room for thirty minutes without saying a word. "So you're saying that the door to the bathroom is on the other side of my bed?"

"Yes. Right next to the headboard."

Grudgingly, I crawl across my bed to the other side and drop onto the other end of the rug. I feel forward for the door and find it. Walking in, I feel the cool, slightly rough tile beneath my feet.

"You'll find the bathtub to your right and the sink to your left. And the towels are stacked in the drawer by the sink!" I hear Judith call from the room.

I come back to the doorway. "Thank you," I say somewhat unwillingly.

"That's what I'm here for," She replies cheerfully.

Taking a bath is not as much of a chore as I thought it would be. I find the tub easily from the directions Judith has given me, and common sense tells me which knobs to adjust to get my preferred water temperature. Soap and a bottle of shampoo are at hand along the edge of the tub, so I bathe with relative ease.

I come out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around myself, my wet hair dripping down my back. I need a haircut, I remember. "Judith?"

"Madeline?" Judith's voice comes back with a hint of amusement. I think I will get along with her just fine.

"D'you happen to know where they unpacked my clothes? Or I guess my school robes is what I'm really looking for."

"Certainly. I watched them unpack it all. If you walk straight ahead you'll find a chest of drawers, probably the only piece of furniture you haven't hit yet."

"Very funny."

"Thank you. Your school things will be in the bottom three drawers, all your other clothes in the top three."

I follow Judith's directions and run into the chest of drawers. I ignore her laughter, barely keeping a smile from my own face, and dig into the third drawer, finding skirts, shirts, and sweaters. In the drawer below are robes, socks, and a pair of shoes. The bottom drawer held winter accessories like a heavy cloak, a scarf, and thick hats and mittens.

Well, first I need underwear. I try the fourth drawer from the bottom and find what I desire. Taking my underwear, a set of school clothes, robe, shoes and socks, I head back into the bathroom to change.

I come out fully dressed and empty stomached. Well, I have on everything except my tie. "Judith," I announce. "Tell me how to put on my tie."

"Heavens," she says, sounding a little taken aback. "Please tell me this isn't the first time you've put on a tie."

"Luckily it isn't. I was in theatre at school and I had to wear one a few times. I still need help, though."

"All right, let's see how this goes. If it doesn't work, we'll hang the whole idea of a tie," Judith replies. Thankfully, with Judith's help, I manage to get it on "Properly enough" (as Judith said) in about twenty minutes.

I am exhausted after this latest endeavor, so I grope my way to the bed and perch myself on the edge, facing the wall where Judith hangs. "Meals are in the Great Hall here, aren't they?" I ask. I had read Hogwarts, A History so many times I knew it almost by heart. "With a ceiling bewitched to look like the sky outside?"

"Yes, that's right. They brought you breakfast today though. A house elf just brought it in while you were changing. I guess they don't want you to brave going to the Great Hall yet."

"I'm not sorted into a house anyway," I say crossly, "so I wouldn't have a place to sit. Where'd they put the food?"

"Didn't sort you?" Judith mutters, almost as if to herself, "How curious. The food is on the bed behind you. I fancy that if you move carefully you shan't knock it over."

I grimace at her comment, and then crawl carefully across my bed until I bump into something metal that clatters a little when I hit it. I sit cross-legged beside it and feel over the surface, noting the fork, knife, and napkin, as well as narrowly avoiding knocking the glass of juice over. On the plate are three strips of bacon, an egg done over-easy, and toast with jam already spread over it. How thoughtful of them. I lick my finger to see what kind of jam it is, Mmm, raspberry. My favorite.

I put the napkin in my lap, and reach for my fork and knife before digging in. I think I managed to not make much of a mess, and any that I did, I think I kept confined to my napkin. I feel nice and full after finishing, and as no one had come to pick me up yet, I consider going back to sleep. My plans are interrupted by the small squeak of my door opening. I wonder if it's squeaky on purpose?

"Miss Philips?" The ever-more-familiar voice of Professor Snape queries. I immediately sit up straighter, although this is hard because the bed is soft and comfortable and demands sprawling rather than rigidity.

"Sir?" I venture.

"Come. I'm to escort you to History of Magic, and I have a class of my own to start as well, so hurry up."

I scramble off the bed quickly. "Don't forget your wand and bag," Judith whispers, as I feel my way around the bed.

"Where are they?" I hiss back.

"Your wand is in my hand, Miss Philips." This is Snape's voice, and it makes me stop in my tracks for a moment. "It was sitting on your night stand. You really must be more careful about where you put such things. Many wizards would not let it leave their side."

I stiffen at this underlying slight. "Many wizards are not required to lead a Muggle life as well as a normal one," I respond through clenched teeth.

"The bag," Judith says pointedly, trying to steer the conversation to safer ground, "is beside the night stand. It should have your proper books in it along with some quills and parchment. Be sure you put the proper books in for tomorrow's classes tonight."

"Thank you," I answer. I have made it around to my night stand, and I bend down and pick up a canvas-like bag and put it on my shoulder. I straighten up slowly and hold out my hand so Snape can hand over my wand. I feel the end being put into my palm and I snatch it away--ignoring the urge to hex his underpants so he would have a horrible wedgie all day--and put it into the pocket of my robe.

"Shall we go then?" I ask, holding out a hand to put on his arm.

"Yes," He says shortly, "I can't afford to be late."

I can, I think. I am dreading this. How will my first day of school go? Every god in the universe has apparently conspired against me: I am starting a new school; I am starting a new school in the middle of the year; I am starting a new school blind; I am starting a new school not knowing if I am able to compete at their level.

We march out the door and down the hallway; no chance of me trying to learn my way around the school with Snape on my arm. He has a Duty: to dump me as quickly as possible so he won't be late.

We go up a few flights of stairs before I hear the noise of my fellow students. The hall sounds crowded enough, but remarkably I run into no one.

"Hurry up and get to your classes or you shall all be tardy! Creevy! If I see that blasted camera of yours go off one more time it is mine! Get along, all of you!"

On second thought, it isn't so remarkable I'm running into no one. They're all avoiding Snape. This conclusion only makes me more depressed. I add another entry to the list of bad things in my head: I am starting school on the arm of the most unpopular person in school.

Things quiet down after Snape draws all the attention to himself--actually to us. I heard people muttering to each other as we walk past, no doubt speculating about the New Girl on the arm of the Anal Git. I wish I was back in bed.

"Door." Is the last thing Snape mutters to me before walking into my History of Magic class. The room, which had been filled with some laughter, but mostly subdued It's-Too-Early-To-Be-Up kind of talk, goes very quiet once we enter.

"Professor Binns?" Snape speaks stiffly. I hear a slight cough, but no other sound of movement. It is a tad bit eerie. "Here is the new student, Madeline Philips. Good day."

Snape lets go of my arm and walks out the door. I can hear him yelling at more students as he goes off down the hall.

There is a small, wheezing cough, "Miss Phipps?"

I turn my head to the direction of the voice, sure every eye in the classroom is on me. Maybe it is okay being blind. "It's Philips," I state clearly, not able to completely disguise the note of annoyance in my voice.

"Yes, yes, of course." The wheezy voice continues. "Why don't you take a seat in that first desk, right ahead of you." Another cough. "Do you need some assistance...?"

"No," I say haughtily. I move forward in slow shuffling steps, keeping my hands forward and low to feel for the desk. I grab it almost immediately, and finger my way around the end of the desk to my seat. I wish everyone would start talking again, already. I am as nervous as hell without them watching me. I sit my bag in my lap and feel around until I find some parchment and a quill, setting it on my desk before putting my bag on the floor next to my chair. I scoot my chair closer to the desk, and sit facing forward, wondering what will happen next.

There is the pressure of a hand on my right arm and I turn my head.

"Madeline Philips, Binns said?" It is a male voice and sounds friendly enough, if hesitant.

"Yes. You're...?"

"Grant Hughes."

"I don't think I've seen you around. Are you new?" I nod. His next question, which house was I in, he asks slowly. I figure out later why he had been nervous about asking me: because I was in a class of Hufflepuffs, and he didn't want to look stupid by not knowing his own housemate, even if she was new. I tell him, of course, that I had not been sorted. This causes titters from the class all around us, who have been hanging onto our every word.

Grant's next question is even more hesitant than the last. "Are you..." He cannot seem to finish it.

"Blind?" I offer. "Yes, I am. They tell me they can fix it, though. It's a bit of a pain in the arse, actually. Bit inconvenient, you know."

This causes a little laughter from the rest of the class, more relief than anything that my blindness isn't a sore spot, and probably that they would not be permanently faced with awkwardness of my impairment, as I had been deemed "curable."

"Ah, well...pleasure to meet you," the boy finishes lamely.

"You too," I say cheerfully. Binns coughs louder than the first three times since I had met him, which seemed to signify the beginning of class.

History of Magic turns out to be a very dull class. I had enjoyed history up until this point. My mother had been a history buff and had made history lessons for me seem as fun as reading a good adventure story; Binns sucked history dry. I scrawl down notes and dates here and there on my parchment--trying not to imagine the horrendous job I am doing at writing in straight lines--one cheek resting on my hand. I nearly fall asleep, and would have it if hadn't been for the overwhelming fear of making a Good First Impression. I am thankful when the bell rings.

I put my things away and sit quietly as the rest of the class walks out quite vociferously, leading me to believe they feel the same way as I do about History of Magic. I don't know if I am supposed to find my own way to the next class, or if another teacher (Not Snape again, please!) was going to escort me. I am thinking on this as I stand tentatively from my chair, when someone taps me on the shoulder.

I turnaround, curious as to who it is and what they want.

"Madeline?" It is a soft female voice, she sounds a little shy.

"Yes?" I reply patiently.

"I'm Lila Madley. I can help you find your way to your next class if you need help...?"

I smile broadly in relief. "Yes, thanks. I was wondering how I was going to find my way. I have charms, that isn't out of your way is it?"

"No, no." There is relief in her voice too, though about what exactly, I'm not sure. "I have time before Herbology." I stand patiently, waiting for her to lead on. "Um...er..." She doesn't know what to do with me now that she has me.

"If I can just keep my hand on your arm, I'll try and keep up with you," I suggest helpfully.

"All right." I put my hand out onto her arm. "Let's get going then. I'll try to warn you so you don't bump into things," she adds as we made our way out of the classroom into the noisy corridor.

"Don't worry about it. Another spot of black and blue won't matter. I'm sure my shins look like I tried going out for an international rugby team. Excuse me," I add as I shoulder into someone in the hall.

"Rugby?" Lila queried.

I have been so used to avoiding using terms from the wizarding world, that I forgot it was okay to mention things like quidditch, bludgers, and trolls.

"Er...what I meant to say was like I tried making friends with a bludger," I amend quickly. Good job me, I think, make yourself look daft in front of the first person who is friendly to you. Before I can try and salvage the conversation I am attempting, I am distracted by a cool light breeze and a definite change in acoustics.

"Are we outside?" I ask. Are you taking me someplace where you and your mates can pull some dreadful newbie prank on me that will reduce me to a sniveling heap? I worry.

Sounding a little surprised, she says "Yes." She must have remembered I can't see because she adds, "You have to cross the courtyard to get to charms."

To get from History of Magic to charms I must cross a courtyard, I note to myself. Less people run into me outside.

Once back inside we walk up a flight of stairs, the number of which I forget to count and I am furious at myself.

Lila left me at the Charms door, "It was nice meeting you. I hope I'll catch you later. Good luck...." Her voice drifts off into the blur of voices in the hall.

I wish people didn't have such a penchant for leaving me at the front of classrooms, assuming I could handle everything from there. Oh well, I might as well prove them right.

I compose myself mentally and walk into the classroom...and right into someone. Someone very solid. I stagger back from the force, managing to stay vertical.

"Watch where you're going," a male voice declares testily.

"I might if I could see," I snap back. "Watch yourself!"

"Wait a minute," The voice speaks again. "you must be that new blind girl I heard some Hufflepuffs talking about. Melanie, is it?"

"Madeline, actually." He is bending forward very close to my face, as if proximity might help him see me better. Or maybe me see him better. I tilt my head back. "What's your name?"

"Jason Guisewit. If you're in Hufflepuff, what are you doing in a Ravenclaw charms class?"

"I'm not in Hufflepuff. I wasn't sorted. I'm not in a house." I can see having a house to identify with is very important. Yet another bad mark on the list: I have started a new school Houseless.

"You weren't? Weird."

"Thank you. My self-confidence really need that," I say dryly, getting a little exasperated with this Jason fellow.

"Sorry," He sounds like he has an apologetic smile on his face. "It's just that it is a bit odd. It does explain why you have all the different House colors on your tie, though." Well, I know what one article of clothing I have put on looks like. I suddenly wonder if I had put on matching socks, before tuning back into what Jason is saying. "I apologize if we shadows have offended...." He begins and trails off when I laugh delightedly.

"Alas, I have not slumbered here, for the bruises on my legs are quite real." I smile. "I love Shakespeare," I add, thinking perhaps Jason was not such a berk after all.

"Class! Class! If you will please take your seats! We are learning the rather difficult Chance charm today." A squeaky voice speaks from the other end of the room.

Jason must see the face I make at the words "difficult charm," because he laughs and tells me, "Come and sit next to me and we'll struggle through it together." He takes me by the arm and leads me to my seat, for which I am grateful.

I cannot, of course, go through the class blissfully unnoticed. Professor Flitwick (Jason had whispered the name in my ear, telling me he was very small and very excitable) calls attention to me before starting the lesson.

"Before starting the lesson, I just want to make sure Madeline Philips is here. Miss Philips?"

"Yes sir. I'm here," I say as everyone maneuvers and cranes their necks to see the new girl who is blind.

"Good, good." Flitwick continues on cheerfully and squeakily, apparently not noticing the class reaction. "Just wanted to make sure you had made it to class. It's always lovely to have a new student. Now then, on to the lesson. We'll start out by practicing the wand movement for this charm, which is a bit trickier than most...."

And so he went on, explaining the finer points of the Chance Charm, which can tip the odds of say a poker game in your favor, having everyone duplicate his movement (which I'm sure went atrociously in my case), then repeat the words before letting us pair up to practice. Jason tries to help me the best he can, but since I can not see the wand movement it makes it very strenuous to get the charm to work right. We practice casting the charm on a deck of cards after our partner has selected a card from the deck, using the charm will help us better predict which card our partner holds in his hands.

Jason is better than he had alluded to at the beginning of class, and masters the charm quite quickly. The only thing I succeed in doing is making my wrist tired, and no doubt get a head start down the road to carpal tunnel. We have good laughs at my attempts though, which makes me feel better about my day: that I can laugh with someone over my mistakes is quite an accomplishment I decide. I feel like I've found the beginnings of a friendship in Jason. He offers to take me down to lunch with him after class is over. I can even sit with him and his friends. Maybe I can become a pseudo-house member. Just call me quasi-Ravenclaw.

I make it down to the Great Hall fairly safely on Jason's arm. He sits me down at the Ravenclaw table and introduces me around to at least half a dozen people who's names jumble in my mind, and I hope I won't be called upon to remember them just yet.

The Great Hall is the loudest place I have been in yet. It is like standing in the middle of a storm tossed ocean for all the noise and energy. It's the energy that scares me the most--it is so palpable--I am in the belly of the beast I cannot see. I have never considered myself a paranoid person before.

I am so anxious, I eat very little. The students around me are helpful in telling me what is in the dish I am ladling onto my plate, but I simply have no appetite. I am also being plied with dozens of questions so I barely have time to draw breath, much less eat. Where am I from? Why haven't I been at Hogwarts before? Why haven't I been sorted? What was it like learning magic and going to Muggle school? What is my favorite quidditch team? What classes am I taking? What are my favorite subjects? Am I a fan of the Weird Sisters? What had I thought of my classes so far? Where am I staying since I'm not in a House? How long will it be before I can see again? I answer them the best I can, and am actually relieved when Snape appears at my elbow "requesting to have a word with me."

I am not relieved enough, however, to forget that Snape and I in an equation do not equal good public relations.

Outside the Great Hall, after Snape takes House points from two students who are apparently tracking mud in on the floor, he informs me that my rehabilitator will be arriving this evening for the first session, and that after Advanced Ancient Runes I am to return to my room and stay there until he arrives.

Hooray for house-arrest, I think darkly.

"I will escort you back to your room now," he finishes, saying it rather ungraciously, I think.

As we stalk (I swear this man does not walk like a normal man) back in the direction of my room, I count the stairs down--twenty-three--before gaining the courage to ask Snape a question. "Um, Professor?"

"Yes Miss Philips?"

"Could you tell me what classes I have scheduled for tomorrow?"

He is silent for a moment, and I am afraid he is going to be a snot and not answer me at all. "Advanced Arithmancy, Advanced Transfiguration, Advanced Potions..." His voice trails off for a moment. "...and Defense Against the Dark Arts. In that order." Then he is silent, but it does not sound as though he is finished speaking. I wait patiently counting the number of steps we've taken since the last left turn. "How much did your mother teach you about the Dark Arts?" He finally asks.

"Lots of dark creatures. Read about those in books. Some defense things." I frown, beginning to worry. Speaking doubtfully, I say, "But not really a lot of those. I may not be up to speed with what you have here. My mother...she didn't like doing Dark Arts things. I think it was because she may have not been very good at it."

The next silence is very loud and a lot longer than the past ones. I am afraid I have said something that has somehow offended Snape. I start replaying the conversation in my head, trying to find the part where I've gone wrong so I can apologize, when suddenly Snape breaks the silence.

"I suspected as much." I don't like the tone he uses when he says it. "Your Defense Against Dark Arts will most likely be in the evening after dinner. We are going to find someone to give you personal lessons. I don't know if we will have found someone by tomorrow, so you may not have that class tomorrow." He is silent again, like he is brooding something. However, he speaks no more until we got to the door of my room. "Don't forget to come straight to your room after dinner," he says before leaving me.

Good day to you too, I think sarcastically as I move aside the tapestry and walk into my room. I drop my school bag on the floor close to the door so I won't forget it. I kick off my shoes before realizing I can't see where they have gone to pick them up again. I spend thirty minutes of my hour before class finding those blasted shoes. Judith won't help me, she says I needed to learn not to do things like that. I am not happy with her at all. The last thirty minutes I spend changing out my books--Judith actually assists me here--and arranging the desk by the door so it will be ready for homework this evening.

Snape picks me up again, rushing me to Advanced Ancient Runes as quickly as possible. There is no way I'm going to learn my way around the school if Snape keeps taking me everywhere, I think crossly after he has dumped me in front of the classroom door.

There is some talk as I walk through the doorway, but it goes very quiet as I enter the room. I slow to a stop before I run into anything, waiting for someone to say something.

"Madeline? The new girl?" a female voice with a faint Irish accent asks.

"Hello? Yes?" I reply smiling slightly.

"Is it true that you aren't part of a house?" the same voice again.

"Yes." I hope the conversation doesn't continue along these lines.

"Think you can handle doing Ancient Runes if you're blind?" I am really beginning to dislike this person, whoever she is.

"I certainly hope so." I don't want her to know I am wondering the same thing. I wish I could see to sit down.

There is a really awkward pause. I wish I could think of something to say. I wish someone else (someone pleasant if possible) could think of something to say. Suddenly, firm footsteps enter the room. "All right everyone, take a seat, we have plenty of work to do today." A voice with a crisp, though not pronounced, English accent announces, setting something that sounds like a briefcase on his desk or perhaps a students desk. I turn around to face it. I can't sit until I know where to sit.

"Oh. You must be Madeline Philips?" I rather wish I wasn't at the moment.

"Yes sir," I say a bit faintly.

"Good. Excellent. I'm prepared for you." Okay? "Here, let me show you to your seat." I strong hand takes my arm and leads me back into a seat. "My name is Professor Kauno by the way. There you go. Now we're all ready to begin." He is already back up at the front of the class by the time he finishes the sentence.

This man has waaay to much energy to be teaching such a dusty subject Ancient Runes, I think to myself.

"Okay. Everyone get out your books and turn to page three-hundred sixty-nine. We're going to start translating some druid's writings." He pauses as people get out their books and flip to the specified page. "Madeline," I wish he would stop drawing attention to me, "your book should be enchanted so that the runes are raised to where you can feel them with your fingers. Think you can manage?"

"Yes." I reply quietly from where I sit.

"Everyone get to work then. And don't forget the differences we discussed yesterday about the way druids disguised some of the runes to make it harder to translate. Just ask if you need any help."

There is a rustle as everyone flips to the proper page number and gets out parchment, ink, and quills.

I open my book, hoping the raised writing rule works for the page numbers. It does, they are written in runes as well. I smile slightly at this, wondering if that's part of what makes this class advanced. I pull out a roll of parchment as well as my nice eagle feather quill and ink pot.

I slowly begin to relax as I run my left hand fingers over the runes, writing out the translation with my other hand. Ancient Runes is easy for me, and therefore relaxing. All you need for Ancient Runes is a good memory to memorize all the runes, some common sense to see patterns in the runes, a sharp quill, and plenty of time on your hands. Learning runes, even the different variations from culture to culture, had been simple for me; I just think of it as learning the periodic table, or common ions, or the properties of various roots and herbs. It is straightforward, it follows certain rules, and is always precise, leaving no room for ambiguity like charms, or curses and hexes.

Time goes fairly quickly, which makes me happy after the welcome I had received upon arriving in the classroom, and I am thankful when the bell rang for us to leave. "Homework tonight is writing a foot and a half long essay about the differences in druid runes, Nordic runes, and Celtic runes. Due in two days!" Professor Kauno calls over the class' mad rush to leave.

I wait, thinking, At least I can do my Ancient Runes homework tonight. After it is quiet enough for me to assume everyone has left, I stand up from my desk, wondering how I am going to find my way back to my room.

"Hey Madeline!" A familiar voice says from the doorway. I pause from my slow walk up the aisle and wait as Jason's footsteps approach me, slapping against the stone floor. "Good, I caught you. Snape--" Jason seems to remember Kauno is there and quickly amends. "Professor Snape sent me to bring you to his classroom. I just had him for Potions." He explains.

I wonder what Snape wants now. Out loud I say, "Good. I was just wondering what to do next."

Jason takes my arm and leads me out into a hall clearly filled with students coming out of their last class of the day. We pass conversations about quidditch practice, how much homework some teacher named McGonagal has assigned, what time someone has detention that night, the best books to use for the essay on Polyjuice Potions, the strange creature in Care of Magical Creatures, and the cut a person had received from a vicious plant in Herbology.

Jason asks me how my ancient runes class had gone. "Okay." I say. I don't really want to discuss it. He then begins describing what had happened in the herbology class he had right after lunch. A plant had gone totally wild and hurt a number of students before Professor Sprout had been able to get it under control--it was apparently the most fun he's ever had in that class since first year.

By this time we are in the dungeons, and nearly to Snape's classroom.

"Here she is, Professor," Jason said once we arrived.

"Thank you Mr. Guisewit," Snape says coolly, which apparently is a dismissal because Jason hisses "Bye Madeline" in my ear before getting away as quickly as possible.

I wait uncomfortably for Snape to speak and tell me why I am here in his classroom.

"Well, Miss Philips," he says in that smooth voice of his, "I understand that you wish to know your way around school better, so I thought we would start here." Where is this leading? "You will find that if you leave my classroom and go right down the corridor, turning right again at the corner, you will eventually find yourself outside your room. You think you can handle that?" There is a sneer in his voice as though he seriously doubts it.

"Yes, thanks!" I say brightly, hoping to annoy him. Not waiting for any response, and there is none, I turn about and walk towards the back of the classroom where the door is, bumping into the first desk before finding the aisle. I make my way out of the classroom otherwise unharmed, and continue to my right outside the door. When I finally make it to the corner I pause for a moment to rest. I have been walking briskly to work off my irritation at Snape. After a minute I continue on again, slowly, through the last stretch of my journey. It is scarier than I thought it would be walking to my room by myself. You'd better get used to it, I tell myself sternly. You're going to be doing it for a few months at least, until that potion starts working.

I am ever so thankful to feel the familiar roughness of the tapestry that conceals the doorway to my room. I feel my way left towards my desk where I sit down my bag with a sigh. This time I remember to take off my shoes and sit them by the desk chair where I will remember they are. I sit down in the wooden chair and put my feet up on the desk.

"Have a rough day, dear?" Judith's voice asks kindly.

I consider this before answering. "A bit. Not as bad as I thought it would be. It could have been worse."

"Cheerful sort, aren't we?"

"Not at all," I reply breezily. I yawn and then take my feet off the desk. "I have homework to do," I add.

"Well that explains it, now doesn't it?" Judith mutters, presumably to herself.

I reach down into my bag and pull out parchment and writing supplies. I will do my ancient runes homework, it's easy, and quite possibly the only homework I know how to do. I flatten down my roll of parchment, and bending over it, begin to write.

I do not hear him come in. I think he stood there a minute or two before announcing his presence. I had been leaning back in my chair, feet on the desk again, tie hung loosely around my neck, wishing I had some music to listen to, and wondering what had happened to my collection of CDs.

"You must be Madeline Philips," a deep male voice says.

I turn slightly in the direction of the voice. "You must be the fifth person to say that today," I reply with a smile. "Silas Wells, I presume?" I slip my feet off my desk and sit up straight in my chair, sticking out my hand.

Silas walks towards me and grasps my hand in a firm handshake. He has big, sturdy hands with a wide palm. He let go and I hear the desk creak slightly as he leans against it. "So they stuck you in a room by yourself? Sort of takes the fun out of Hogwarts not being in a house."

"Everyone keeps harping on that as well," I reply dryly.

"Right. Sorry." He changes subjects quickly. "Doing homework then?"

I nod and say yes. I hear him pick up the roll of parchment I had finished earlier. Writing a foot and a half had been easy, I had even gone over a bit.

"Hm. Your handwriting's uneven--which is to be expected," he adds hastily, "but better than most I've seen. Let me see your quill."

I walk my fingers across my desk until I find my quill which I hold in his direction.

"Autoledger," he intones, and places the quill back in my hand. "There. Now your quill will help keep your lines even. Try it out."

Silas shoves a scrap of parchment strewn on my desk in front of me. I find the edge of the parchment and move my quill a little to the right before writing down the first thing that comes to mind. When I find myself getting near the other edge of the paper, my quill starts to tug on my hand. Surprised, I finish the word I was writing and stop. The quill automatically directs my hand down and left to start the next line.

"Wicked," I say, impressed.

"Thank you," Silas replies in mock humility.

"So...what do we do now?"

"Now? I guess we start getting you familiar with the school. You're going to have to memorize how to get from place to place in the castle by the order of your classes. You'll have to stick close to the walls so you can feel them with your hand and feel for clues that will help you remember where you are. The castle will help."

So I've been told, I think. "Okay, then. Let's go!" I jump out from my seat, making my chair lean back like it is going to fall. I cringe in embarrassment the second before it crashes.

It doesn't crash. Silas has reached around quickly and grabbed the chair before it hit the floor. I slowly let my fingers uncurl from my fists, still mortified. Stepping back from me, Silas says teasingly, "Careful. I know you're terribly excited that you get to work with me, Silas Wells, but you must contain yourself."

"Don't give yourself so much credit. It's the excuse to get away from my homework that's making me so excitable."

Silas turns serious suddenly. "Homework is important, unfortunately, and we don't want you falling behind because you're temporarily blind. What do you have?"

I grimace, annoyed at myself for giving away my problems to someone I hardly know. "Don't worry about it," I say evenly.

"Tell me."

"It's nothing I-"

"Tell me."

"Look, can-"

"I'm waiting until you tell me."

I glare in his general direction. He is making me feel like a five year old. "Charms," I finally admit grudgingly, "which is enough in itself."

"Excellent." I see nothing excellent in the matter. "Well, then. We might as well kill two birds with one stone; we'll start familiarizing you by taking a trip to the Great Hall, and then there we'll do your charms homework." I raise one eyebrow, slowly. I see no fun in making an ass of myself for a second time in front of my schoolmates. "Come on and get your shoes." He is getting all excited now. "Do you need your charms book?"

"No."

"On second thought, don't get your shoes." I stand up quickly from reaching down for my shoes and bump my head into his chin.

"Sorry," I say, rubbing the top of my head, again mortified at my clumsiness.

Silas waves it aside. "Doesn't matter. Don't wear your shoes--though you might want to keep your socks on, it's a bit cold--it might help if you can get a better feel of the layout without your shoes on."

I smile. "That's the best thing anyone's said to me all day."

Chuckling, Silas tugs on my arm, pulling me towards the door, impatient. "Come on, come on."

"No need to be impatient," I say a little testily, my sock feet sliding across the rug free edge of my room. The stone is smooth and cool against my light cotton stockings, much better than the cramped quarters of my shoes. "You sound like Professor Snape."

He stops pulling me and says mock solemnly, "I cannot compare to Professor Snape."

"Oh? You don't think you're as intelligent as he is?"

"Nope. Not as snarky."

I chuckle. "Too bad. I rather like that aspect of him."

Silas opens the heavy wooden door, which creaks protestingly and leads me into the corridor where the acoustics change. He puts my left hand on his arm, which is firm and solid like his hand, and allows me reach out to touch the wall with my right. Turn right outside my door. "You obviously have poor taste in men," he states.

"No, there are just too many bland tasting ones," I say with a mischievous smile.

He is quiet for a moment before saying, "Have you been counting your steps?"

"Of course."

We are quiet as we proceed down the corridor. The only noise is the tiny whisper of my slow, shuffling sock feet, and vague hiss of flames flickering, illuminating the long corridor. About half-way through our progress, there is a statue of something, which I run my hands over carefully, trying to remember the feel of the crevices. Finally we reach the bottom of the stairs. Silas doesn't warn me, so I realize we were at the stairs when I stub my left toe. Just another injury to add to my list. "Ow!" I yell, "so no warnings about stairs? I believe you're worse than Snape."

"I'm ignoring your ungrateful comment, and you have to learn to get along. I'm not going to warn you that you've reached the top either. You need to count them-"

I cut him off, "Twenty-three. There are twenty-three steps in the stairs leading to the dungeon."

He is quiet with what I hope is surprise. "I see you are ahead of the game. These next to weeks should be fairly easy then." We start to mount the stairs.

"Just wait until we're working on charms. I hope you don't find your eyes or ears to be necessary organs."

"Ha. Don't worry, I'm a trained professional. I know what I'm doing."

I grin. "Famous last words."

"I'm hurt by your lack of faith in me." He pretends to sound hurt.

"Don't worry, I don't have faith in anything."

It is silent on the rest of the way to the Great Hall. I hope I haven't said anything wrong.

The Great Hall is quieter than I thought it would be. This is good: there are less students there to watch my exhibition of Charms One Shouldn't Attempt When Blind.

"Wells!" Someone cries as we progress past one of the House tables, which is brushing up against my leg. "What the devil are you doing here?" I hear feet bounding across the stone. Yet another person with too much energy, only this one is female.

"Amata." He is amused. "Finally taller than your sister? What's Anya up to these days anyway?"

"Don't even ask how I am." This is spoken sarcastically. "We're both quite well, thanks. I'm a whole inch taller than Anya and have been since you graduated. Anya, she's trying to become an Auror; going pretty well I think. I'm trying to find someone to play chess with. Up for the challenge?"

The idea of a chess challenge grabs my attention. I loved chess and other games of logic, puzzles and the like. My father had taught me how to play chess as a little girl. This was, of course, before he--and I, for that matter--learned of my magical abilities.

"Can't, sorry. Here on the job. Amata Coria, this is Madeline, my new charge."

I stick out my right hand and feel Amata take it. Her hand is small and slender, but her handshake is firm. "Nice to meet you, Madeline. You must be that new student I heard about." Her voice came a from a few inches below me, so she must have been fairly short.

I sigh, "My reputation precedes me."

"What are you two doing here?"

I lean forward slightly, as though sharing a secret, "Your friend Silas here thinks that my self-esteem will be effectively destroyed by practicing my charms homework in front of the student body, thus finishing what my blindness began."

Amata laughs appreciatively. "That's our Silas. Always looking out for the welfare of others. It's a wonder he's in Healing."

"Easy now. I'm ending this conversation before you two can gang up on me. And you Maddy--hardly knowing me! Amata, I'll be on the opposite of whichever end of the Ravenclaw table you've chosen to trap your victims into a chess game."

I can tell there is a huge grin on the girls face as she speaks, "Good seeing you again, then Wells. Come by the common room if you're here again. I'll tell the others to look out for you so we can let you in. Ah, and here's my next victim..." Amata's voice trails off as she heads behind us to the newest unsuspecting (or suspecting, for all I know) student.

Silas leads me on again until announcing, "Here we go. This place seems to give us plenty of room."

I feel forward and find the solid wooden edge of the table. I disengag my hand from Silas' arm and sit down carefully, folding my hands in front of me on the table like a good girl on her first day of school. Oh, wait....

I feel the bench give slightly as the stable weight of Silas settles down beside me. "Ah. It's good to be back."

"Glad you find it so enjoyable," I reply placidly.

He is very quiet for a long time and I wonder if he'd lost himself in the nostalgia. When he finally speaks, however, it doesn't sound as though he has just pulled himself back up from the past. "All right. What was that charm you're supposed to be working on."

"Chance Charm."

"Lets see how you do. Go on, show me what you have down. Show me some wand action."

I raise an eyebrow, more to myself than to him. "Okay...." I pull out my wand and hold it ready in front of me, hesitating for a moment thinking of all the people who will see my blundering. Oh hell. Might as use the cat mentality: if you can't see them, they can't see you. I move my wand about haphazardly in what I hope has some semblance to what Flitwick had been teaching us.

"Dear God. You are as bad as you said," Silas says, sounding more amused than anything.

"And you're just as bad as I said." I reply crossly, dropping my arm and hiding my wand under crossed arms.

"But luckily, I'm here to help you."

"You'll notice I'm not holding my breath."

Ignoring me, he continues, "It's not really that bad. It's only difficult because you can't see the wand movement--"

"You haven't seen me when I have my full sight."

"--but this is a problem easily solved. Arm out, now."

I grudgingly pull out my arm, wondering how he is going to help me. Good Maddy has too much influence over my brain.

To my surprise, Silas grips my wrist firmly with his own hand, and slowly directs my wand hand in the correct pattern. So surprised, I forget to pay attention to what he is doing with my hand. "Do it again," I say, thinking this novel idea a very good one indeed. "Please."

I have Silas do it several times before I attempt it on my own. The spell still doesn't work, but Silas says I am getting closer to what I am supposed to be doing. We aim our spells at Amata's unlucky opponents, Silas pointing me in the right direction, hoping to give them and edge in the game. At the end of the hour I have gotten the spell pretty much under my command. "Or good enough to get you through class tomorrow," he says. "I guess I'd better get you back to your room." Silas stands up.

I lay my head on the cool wooden table. Day one down. How many more to go? I need to find out. Soon. "Silas? I can call you Silas, right?" I say suddenly, sitting up.

"Yes and yes."

"Which house table are we--I--sitting at?"

"Ravenclaw. Why?"

I shrug. "Tell me the layout of the Great Hall."

Silas sits down beside me again. "Okay. Well, to your right...wait. Face forward. Face me. I turn accordingly, straddling the bench. "Okay, north, in front of you--way in front actually--is the head table where all the professors sit for meals; it runs east to west, towards all the students. The House tables run north to south; to your left is Slytherin, then us, Ravenclaw, then Hufflepuff and Gryffindor on your right."

I nod, thinking, imprinting what Silas has said into my brain.

"Come on. You look tired," he says, quietly, taking my arm, helping me up out of my seat. I am, unfortunately, twice as clumsy when people try to help me.

"Ow! Dammit!" I cry as I bang one shin on the bench's edge. The Hall becomes quieter for a moment, before the usual hum returns to normal. Silas says nothing as I carefully step over the bench. "You think they'd pad things around here," I mutter.

We walk in silence back to my room. I think my feet and hands are beginning to remember the path. I remember all the number of stairs for the staircase. When we get to the tapestry, Silas lets me pull it aside and open the door, taking my hand off his arm.

"I'll see you tomorrow then, Maddy." He sounds tired too. "You don't mind me calling you Maddy, do you?"

I shrug. "No. It's a common nickname for me."

"Hm. We'll have to come up with something more original. How about Mads?"

I grimace, then grin. "Only if I get to call you Lass."

"Okay, fair enough. Night, Maddy."

"Good night Silas. Thanks for the help on the charms homework."

"No--" He is cut off by a yawn. "Sorry. No problem."

I turn around to begin the search for bedclothes and bed. I hear the door squeak close behind me.

"Have a good time, dear?"

"Oh smashing," I say dryly, moving carefully towards the chest of drawers, arms straight out.

"Run into that many things, did you?"

"Ow!" I have run into the corner of the chest of drawers. "Actually no, I didn't, thank you very much." Judith has a low chuckle, kind of like a contented purr. "I'm going to bed before you can make any more smart remarks."

"Not bloody likely." She replies, amused.

She is right.