Journal of a Mister Cool

September 2^nd, 01:15 am, dormitory

James was thinking exactly the same thing. "Wait a sec. I've got something that can help." He started rummaging in his trunk and took out a piece of shiny fabric - an invisibility cloak! I can't believe he has one, I would kill for it.

"Can I come with you?" Peter, the little boy with the big teeth, asked. James nodded. "Sure, why not?" I looked at the other boy, Remus. "Are you coming too?" I asked. He looked at me as if he couldn't believe it. "Me?"

"Yes, who else, your owl? Well, are you coming?"

"Er, I don't know, are we allowed to?" James laughed. "Of course not! But we won't get caught, not with this." He held up the cloak. "Are you coming or not?" Remus smiled and stood up. We covered ourselves with the cloak and sneaked downstairs.

James used a handy little Lumos-spell, which made his wand glow, so that we could see where we were walking. "My dad says there are lots of secret passageways at Hogwarts, behind tapestry's and stuff," James said.

"Like that one over there?" Remus pointed at a tapestry of a knight who was slaying a dragon. "Let's take a look." We walked towards it and pushed it aside. Too bad, just wall. But James wasn't that easy to stop. "Maybe we need to say a password. Does anyone of you know Latin?"

"Yeah, I do," I said. Mum has forced me to say voco, vocas, vocat, vocamus, vocatis, vocant every night at dinner for four years. So yeah, I sort of know Latin.

"Why?"

"Well, passwords are usually in Latin. Portraits think it sounds interesting. What's dragon in Latin?" James asked. I shrugged. "Draco, I guess."

Peter turned to the tapestry. "Er, Draco?" he said.

"What?" the little knight said.

"Eh, the password?" The knight shook his head. "If you don't have the password, I am afraid I can't let you through, gentlemen. Now, if you excuse me, I have a very dangerous dragon to kill." He winked at me.

He was giving me a hint! I started to think. A dangerous dragon, that's... draco acutus or something. I looked at him and said it. The night made a bow and behind the tapestry there appeared a hole.

Wow, I never knew I would one day actually use my Latin skills!

Then we went inside, and what we saw was so amazing.

It was a Quidditch hall. I didn't even know that there was one. James's mouth was hanging half open, and a tiny drop of slobber was dripping out of it. It didn't look very pretty, but I don't blame him. I probably looked the same.

We played a game (James and I against Remus and Peter, Merlin, we crushed them) and then we went on. On the fifth floor we found a secret passageway that leads you straight to the dungeons, and we went to the Trophy Room, to admire the Quidditch Cup.

Then we got kind of tired, so we went back to the Gryffindor tower.

I'm going to sleep now because I have my first classes tomorrow.

10:30 am, History of Magic

I had some trouble waking up this morning, but during breakfast, the solution for that came.

I was just eating porridge (why doesn't anyone else in here eat porridge? It's delicious!) when the mail arrived. James, Peter and Remus all got a letter from their parents to wish them a nice first day at school, and I saw Cassiopeia, our gray barn owl, flying towards the table as well, and I was like, oh, look, how nice of Mum and Dad to think of me.

I am such an idiot.

Anyway, then I saw the colour of the envelop.

Red.

Oh, no.

That could only mean one thing.

Cassie dropped the letter in my porridge and flew away with a sorry-but-I-have-very-sensitive-ears-and-I-am-also-extremely-busy-so-I'd-better-get-going look in her eyes. The dirty traitor.

James has seen the letter as well. "Uh-oh," he said. "You're in trouble. I'd open it quickly if I were you."

I followed his advice because the letter already started to smoke. As soon as I opened it, the piercing voice of, surprise, surprise, Mum started to shriek trough the Great Hall.

"Sirius Pollux Black! You dirty little blood traitor! I have never in my entire life been this embarrassed, young man! How dare you be sorted into Gryffindor! Your father is beside himself! How can we ever show our face in public again? Don't think you're welcome at Christmas this year, do you hear me?"

Er yeah. It was kind of hard not to.

Then the howler turned around, towards the staff table, and shrieked: "Dumbledore! I want to have a word with you too, you ancient rag! Who do you think you are, letting my oldest son, a thoroughbred Black, be sorted into Gryffindor, under the care of that piece of scum?! Transfer him! You'll hear from me, mister!"

The hall was soundless. Everybody was looking from me to Dumbledore, who looked kind of amused, and back to me. Then I heard Andy say: "You have to admit, she does have guts, that aunt of mine." Then everybody started to laugh.

"Well," I said. "So now you know my mum."

"She truly sounds like a friendly woman," James remarked. Peter looked horror-struck at me. "Does she often scream like that?" I shrugged. "Sometimes. It's not that bad, she's really more bark than bite." Remus made a funny movement; does he have some kind of muscle disease or something?

Then McGonagall walked by to hand out the timetables. When she gave me mine, she gave me an examining look for awhile, in the way you look at someone who has just received a howler from his crazy, Headmaster abusing mother, and you wonder why he is in your House and not in Slytherin and if he is really that different from his family.

You know them, those looks.

11:05 am, Transfiguration

The bell rang, so I had to stop writing, but I'm back again. So McGonagall was handing out the timetables, and when she gave Remus his, she said with a voice that was way friendlier than before: "Professor Dumbledore wants to speak to you, Mr Lupin. Could you come to his office after breakfast?" Remus nodded and turned red, while McGonagall was explaining how to get to Dumbledore's office. Strange, very strange. Why was McGonagall talking so friendly, almost pitying? And why does the headmaster want to talk to Remus? And why was he blushing?

It's probably about his muscle disease.

Oh, hang on, McGonagall is telling me to pay attention with quite a loud tone, possibly angry.

-

Okay, I can write again. We have got explanation, and now we have to transform matches into pins. I did it after like ten minutes, so I'm done now.

Our first lesson was Herbology, in the greenhouse. It was kind of fun; James threw dragon dung in a girl's hair. Her reaction was classic.

Then we had History of magic, which was BORING. It's taught by an ancient man, who is nagging all the time about goblin rebellions or whatever it was he was talking about. And now we are having Transfiguration. It seems kind of cool. I could turn Reg into a monkey, even though that probably wouldn't really make a difference. McGonagall says that human transfiguration is very difficult, but hey, what did the sorting hat say about my intelligence again?

Oh, and I asked Remus about his talk with Dumbledore. He said that he is ill (I knew it!) and that he had some things to discuss about that with Dumbledore. He also said that one of the portraits of the former Headmasters asked for me. Probably Phineas Nigellus, my great-great grandfather. I bet he grumbled a bit about the Gryffindor thing. There is another painting of him at home, but he is hardly ever there. Thank Merlin because I think he's kind of weird.

The bell! Lunch!

05:15 pm, Common room

You know, I think Plan Cool is working. Other kids look a lot at me and laugh about my jokes, it's great.

Except that Lily Evans. She doesn't really seem to like me. And I don't think she is really keen of James either. Too bad for her. And someone who is friends with Snape doesn't have any taste anyway.

The Snape boy is really weird. He is staring at James and me all the time, and if someone talks to Evans, he starts to glare at them.

We have potions with the Slytherins, and I am so happy I'm not in Slytherin It's really a nasty bunch of... I don't know, nasty people. And they're all so grouchy.

The potions master, their Head of House, is their complete opposite, though. He is very fat and cheerful, a bit like Father Christmas.

"Welcome, my dear children, welcome," he said when the class started. "I am professor Slughorn, and I teach Potions,-"

Now, really? Wow, I didn't see that one coming, we're having potions and the teacher teaches Potions!

"- an extremely subtle branch of magic. Just some flapping of your wand won't help you!" Then he went on for a while about why Potions is such a fantastic subject, and then we did a "little name tour".

Slughorn started with the Slytherins, who were sitting on the left side of the classroom. He nodded at Snivellus, who said his name. "Eileen Prince's son, aren't you? Yes, she was in my house as well. A very er, charming young lady."

"Somehow I doubt that," James whispered in my ear. "With a son like that..." I sniggered. Snape glared daggers at me.

In the meantime, Slughorn was going through all the Slytherins, of almost everybody he knew a relative. The first Gryffindor was Lily Evans, who was sitting next to Snape. "And who is this charming young lady?"

"Lily Evans, sir." She smiled.

"Evans, Evans..." Slughorn stroke his enormous moustache. "Hmm, I don't think I know any Evanses."

"That's probably because I am a muggle-born, sir," she said. A few Slytherins sniffed. And if you ask me, Slughorn looked a bit disappointed. He went on to the next Gryffindor, a blond girl with a turned-up nose and a cocky look in her eyes. "Belle Bott," she sniffed, flipping her hair backwards.

"Ah!" Slughorn said happily. "Of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans!"

"Yes." She looked around triumphantly. "Bertie Bott is my father."

Then it was Emily Keane's turn, whose mother apparently works at the ministry, as an unspeakable or something ("What do you do for living?" "I'm an unspeakable, I sit in my office all day, and I do not speak. It's a tough job, but it's all worthwhile.") and Marlene McKinnon, who has a famous Quidditch commenter for a dad.

Then it was James's turn. "You must be James Potter! Yes, I know you father. The best Seeker the Montrose Magpies ever had! He's probably retired now, isn't he?" James nodded. Then Slughorn looked at me. "Sirius Black!" he exclaimed happily. "Well, I can't say that I wasn't a little bit surprised when you were sorted into Gryffindor, my dear boy! I would have loved to have you in my House. Well, bad luck, I guess."

"Eh, yeah," I said awkwardly. "I believe that my parents would have preferred that as well." Not that I care.

"Er, yes," Slughorn said, awkward as well now. "Your mother made that quite...clear this morning." Snivellus chuckled. James and I glared at him. Git.

Slughorn finished with Peter and Remus. Slughorn didn't seem particularly interested in Peter and quickly went on to Remus, at whom he looked at the same way as McGonagall. Some kind of estimating, pitying look. What makes Remus so interesting and pitiful? His muscle disease? Is it that bad?

Anyway, after that we had to make an elixir of energy, and mine worked out pretty well. Not as good as Lily's, but at least it was better than Remus's. Pour Remus, I don't think potions is the thing for him. Does he know that the potion was supposed to turn purple, not the cauldron?

We're planning to go out and explore the castle again tonight. Yippee! Yeuh!