Bub3loka

  “Is everything alright, Harry?”

  “Everything's great, Susan.” The lie felt like hot coals on his tongue as they walked to the Ancient Runes css, Hermione leading the way along with Hannah. “Why would there be anything wrong?”

  “It’s all over your face.” Susan giggled as she hooked her arm through his elbow; Harry felt extreme guilt when he brought her closer. “I read the paper and listened to the rest of my Housemates. Many are wondering how the brave, unknown student with an enchanted sword feels being in the spotlight.”

  “I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that the Hogwarts Rumour Mill spread the word of my involvement before I even got out of the Great Hall.”

  “No, you should not. The headmaster already confirmed it st night, but I'm more interested in knowing if your disappearance shortly after dinner has anything to do with the Daily Prophet’s surprising vitriol against the Minister.”

  “I might have had something to do with it.” Harry shrugged as they followed Hermione after she asked a portrait where the css was. “It's only part and parcel with my station that I would eventually get involved with matters like this.”

  “But what does any of this have to do with you, Harry?” Susan gripped his arm tightly and looked at him with worry. “The DMLE will no doubt be interested in taking a statement from you now. I thought you would rather not be in the spotlight?”

  “I prefer not to, but sometimes you have to do things you don't like to get what you want.”

  “And what was your goal in attacking the Minister and his dead pet so harshly?” Harry turned to her in surprise, finding a pretty blush on her cheeks. “Auntie talks a lot during dinner, and she mentioned more than once how Umbridge constantly tempts her to hex her on sight before she even allows her to talk.”

  “Yeah, our unmented Senior Undersecretary does have a talent for irritating people.” Harry and Susan chuckled as they walked in silence for a bit. “I have something important to tell you, Susan, but now is not the time. Do you have anything pnned tonight?”

  “Oh!” Suddenly, his girlfriend’s blush intensified while a dopey grin bloomed on her face, further flooding him with guilt. “I’m totally free! What do you have in mind?”

  “How about you meet me outside the kitchens for a little adventure?” He whispered in her ears. “It might entail us going on a little date in Hogsmeade.”

  Despite everything, Susan was still his girlfriend, and Harry had every intention of making sure she loved the birthday date he pnned for her.

  “Hogsmeade? I don't know, Harry. I would love to go, but shouldn't we wait for the first Hogsmeade visit?”

  “Don’t worry. I have permission from Professor Dumbledore to leave the premises, and he has allowed me to bring friends along.”

  “Oh, wow! How did you manage that?”

  “I’m just resourceful like that.” Harry grinned at the tinkling ugh that followed. Perhaps he was abusing Dumbledore's goodwill, but he did not pn for them to get caught in the first pce. “Looks like Hermione found the css.”

  Susan looked ahead, finding Hannah and Hermione waiting for them by the door. She let go of his arms as she joined her friend, and Harry mented the sudden loss of her touch before he pushed open the door.

  They arrived at the Ancient Runes css early, finding it devoid of anyone. Harry would have thought they were in the wrong cssroom if not for the bckboard having a lesson pn written on it. The css was simir to the Arithmancy one in design. Instead of charts of mathematical equations hanging on the wall, it had queer nguages and maps of their home regions—some were of the British Isles, while others were from the continent.

  “Let's grab a seat at the front,” he urged, but then his gaze fell on another girl awkwardly shifting on her feet as she waited for them to move out of the way—he had noticed her following them since the Great Hall, but she kept a respectful distance so he didn’t comment then. “Want to join us, Fay?”

  The girl gawked at him. Her blue eyes, big yet sharp and angur, blinked several times before she pointed at her face in disbelief. “Me?”

  “Yes, you.” Harry smiled. “You are Fay Dunbar, right?”

  “You know my name?!”

  “Er, yes? We're in the same year, you know?” Harry had no idea what was wrong with the dark-haired girl, but he decided to be patient, expanding his circle of friends and all that. “You’re with us in Arithmancy as well. We Lions should stick together, right, Hermione?”

  At this point, Hermione, Susan, and Hannah, the only ones around, looked at them as if they were enjoying a show. Hermione flinched when he called her name, but lightly smiled at the taller girl.

  “Sure, you usually keep to yourself, Fay, but you're welcome to join us, if you like.”

  The Irish girl—or at least Harry thought she was Irish—looked pointedly at Susan and Hannah. The two Hufflepuffs shrugged, and Hannah gave Fay a reassuring smile. “We don’t mind. We are waiting for a few of our fellow Badgers to come. It might be best for housemates to stick together, as Ancient Runes is a popur subject.”

  “Brilliant, come along now.” Harry entered the cssroom and grabbed a seat in the second row. Hermione joined him on his left while Fay sat beside her. “So, tell me a bit about yourself, Fay. I can’t believe we’ve been housemates for over two years, and I don’t recall ever sharing a conversation with you.”

  “Uh, yeah, well,” Fay coughed as she gnced warily at Hermione, who surprisingly looked sheepish. “Not many interesting things to say about me, to be honest. I’m…just me, I suppose.”

  “Come now, don’t be shy. You’re from Irend, right?”

  “Not really?” Fay sighed in resignation. “What makes you think so?”

  “You’re not?!” Hermione squeaked. “I-I mean, your name just screams Irish. No offence.”

  Fay chuckled, “Don’t mention it. Finnigan thought the same and tried to, uhh…let’s say, befriend me. ‘We fellow Irish should stick together against the limes!’ was what he said.”

  “Sounds like Seamus, alright.” Harry chortled. “So, where are you from then? Your accent is definitely not something I've heard before.”

  “Oh, I’m from Canada, actually. You were not really wrong—I am half-Irish by blood. Dad is an Irish Muggleborn who studied at Hogwarts before moving away when that evil wizard was killing everyone left and right. Mum is a Chilcotin witch who studied in Ilvermorny, much to her family’s chagrin. They’re a native tribe.” Fay hastily added, seeing their confusion. “Mum wanted me to go to Ilvermorny while Dad heard that Britain had got much better with Voldemort’s death. Eventually, they agreed to send me here after checking with the school if I was on the list.”

  Harry shook his head in dismay. Either the girl was pulling his leg, or she had a serious case of timidness—’Not many interesting things’ my foot! Moreover, this was the first student he met who was not shy in using Voldemort’s name, though he doubted it was out of bravery or disdain for the bastard. Fay was a foreigner and did not seem to understand how terrible Voldemort’s reign of terror had been.

  “Oh, wow!” Hermione cpped with excitement. Then, her smile wilted as she awkwardly scratched her nose. “I never knew, and we share the same dorm, even! Now I feel even worse for not meeting you st term when you asked for help.”

  “What’s that now?” Harry asked, confused.

  “It’s nothing,” Fay assured hurriedly, but Hermione shook her head vehemently.

  “It was not nothing. You were having trouble studying for the end-of-year exams, and I offered to meet in the library to study together. Only I got distracted by…something and left you without even saying sorry.”

  “It’s fine, Granger. You were attacked and stayed in the hospital for weeks.”

  Harry realised the gist of the matter then; that must have been the day Hermione discovered Slytherin’s monster was a basilisk and hurried to let them know. Fay looked like she didn’t mind, but he sensed slight hurt and wariness from the girl. He pictured himself in her pce, a foreigner in a strange new nd and unable to fit in. Despite not being a Muggleborn, Harry thought her situation was worse, as she stood out like a sore thumb with her accent and looks.

  The only other students he thought would understand her were Parvati and her sister Padma, but both of them were born and raised in Engnd despite their looks. They spoke perfect English with a slight East Midnds accent, most likely from Leicester if he had to guess, but they were also purebloods as he had seen Parvati talk easily with Pansy and other Slytherins. Harry had no idea what the difference between Canada and America was, or what the native tribes were like; were they like the wildlings? Looking closer at Fay, she looked nothing like the wildlings Jon had to deal with, who looked more like his fellow Brits than anything.

  Wait, were he and his countrymen civilised wildlings?! Didn’t Hermione once mention that the Romans brought civilisation here and called the natives—

  He shook his head inwardly. It didn’t matter. Harry did not want to think about that at all.

  While not as exotic as the Patil twins, the Canadian girl looked no less striking. She was taller than Hermione but shorter than Susan, with long, straight bck hair worn loosely with a few braids on the side. Her skin tone was in that state between sun tan and returning to pale, with autumn here, Harry wagered that by the end of the month, she would be as pale as he. Blue eyes that reminded him of the summer sky, but almond-shaped in a way that he found both different yet slightly simir to one of the Asian Ravencw girls of his year (or was she in the year above?). Lastly, her long, oval face had well-defined features, high cheekbones, and a strong jawline. She was certainly comely, but not as pretty as Tracey or Daphne or Parvati and nowhere near Susan’s level of beauty.

  So, how the hell did he miss the girl when he knew all of his housemates, both girls and boys? The more he stared at the girl, the more Harry realised something was off about her. Almost as if his vision tended to slide off her for a moment before he felt Ghost shifting in his mind, and the feeling instantly disappeared.

  Fay Dunbar had a secret; he had no clue whether she knew of it or not, but Harry decided it was not his business. The girl looked lonely, but not for long, judging by how quickly she granted Hermione’s eager plea for forgiveness.

  After nodding and giving himself a proverbial pat on the back for his good deed of the day, he found the cssroom had already filled. The rest of the students had arrived, and as Hannah said, several Hufflepuffs had joined their table. Practically the entirety of the Ravencws have shown up for the css, Harry finding himself comparing Fay’s features with that Asian girl sitting next to Padma—what was her name? Shoe-something? Ah, Sue…was it short for Susan? Were there two Susans in his year?!

  He shook his head as he spied Tracey walking in with Pansy, Nott, Crabbe, and Goyle, all taking a table for themselves, though the blonde witch sent him a small smile.

  “Alright there, Harry?” Harry looked up to find Neville and Dean. “Hermione? And er…Fie, right?”

  “It’s Fay, actually.” Dunbar groaned and looked warily around for a moment. “Finnigan not joining?”

  “No, he decided to sleep in until Defence. He only took Divination and Care of Magical Creatures as electives. McGonagall refused to allow us more than two electives. Something about not impressing her st term.” Dean shrugged as he sat at the table beside them, Neville joining him by the aisle. “Where’s the teacher?”

  Harry checked his watch. To his surprise, it was already a couple of minutes past nine—it was very rare for a Hogwarts teacher to be te for her css.

  Just as he turned to ask Hermione a question, someone rushed in from the door before smming it shut. Everyone turned to find a witch Harry had noticed on the staff table several times. She was gripping her knees tightly as she bowed her head and breathed harshly, clearly she had sprinted to css. Dressed in a pair of high-heeled boots and thick robes of bck and gold that hid most of her features, Harry could only see that she had short, curly brown hair that fell to her neck and that she appeared to be quite short.

  “Damned Slughorn, waiting for the st moment before asking for those lesson pns!”

  Harry's sensitive hearing could barely hear the woman muttering several expletives about the Potions Master, which he doubted should be mentioned before students. Groaning tiredly, the witch stood upright with a sigh and wiped the sweat from her forehead. Then she blinked several times at the students, her grey eyes wide with surprise, peering behind a pair of rge round gsses.

  “Er, hello? I-I mean, good morning, students!” Their teacher coughed, straightened her back, then marched down the steps to her lectern with as much dignity as she could muster, all the while continuing to talk, “I am Professor Bathsheba Babbling, and I will be teaching you Ancient Run—”

  She tripped on Neville's bag and let out an undignified squeak. Harry quickly grabbed her before she cracked her head on the stone floor and helped her stand straight. The teacher was quite short, considering most of the third-year students were taller. In fact, the witch was tiny! Barely taller than Astoria! Scratch that, she had high-heeled boots, meaning she was just as tall as that tiny fire gremlin.

  He couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed at having some woman with a complex of her height teaching them. And there's no doubt she was a fully grown woman, judging by her husky voice and appearance. Despite her height, she still had a womanly body, even if Harry couldn't help but compare her to a young girl pying dress up.

  Strangely, she reminded him of Eleanor Fawley for some reason.

  “T-Thank you, Mr Potter. You may let go now.” Professor Babbling’s round face resembled a ripe tomato. Harry shrugged and let go of her, where she promptly turned to an abashed Neville. “Aisles should be clear of all personal belongings, Mr Longbottom!”

  “S-Sorry!” Neville grabbed his bag and shoved it under his desk. “Won't happen again, Professor.”

  “What kind of teacher is that? Is she a new graduate?” One of the Ravencws whispered to his friend.

  “I don't know, she looks so tiny!”

  “I bet you she's a complete hack,” Smith from the Hufflepuff table whispered to Ernie. “She wouldn't be able to control a css like this, let alone the older years. What a pushover.”

  “Can always count on Longbottom to make a fool of himself,” Nott muttered to Crabbe, who chuckled stupidly.

  Several other students chuckled at Neville's misfortune, only for the tiny professor to harrumph and gre at them, promptly silencing them. No matter her appearance, this was a professor, and no sane student would dare provoke an adult witch who could most likely turn them into a guinea pig if they irritated her enough.

  Satisfied, Professor Babbling continued to the lectern by her desk before turning to them with her wand drawn.

  “As I was saying, my name is Professor Bathsheba Babbling, and I shall be teaching you Ancient Runes.” The witch waved her wand, causing a table to appear before her, holding a strange assortment of items. She grabbed a roll of parchment and inspected it for a moment before turning to them. “But first, roll call. I see I have a good chunk of this year's students. Let's see then…”

  A few minutes ter, the professor learned their names and sent the parchment roll flying into her office. Then, she adjusted her gsses and fixed them with an excited gaze.

  “Now, who can tell me what the study of ancient runes really entails? Yes, Ms Granger?”

  Naturally, Hermione had her hand in the air before the teacher could finish the question. His bushy-haired friend then gave an answer that she clearly memorised from their textbook.

  “Ancient Runes is the study of ancient nguages. The main purpose is to understand what our ancestors wanted to convey to us and transte ancient scrolls and books to more modern nguages.”

  “Spot on, take a point for Gryffindor…unless you have something more to add?”

  Hermione had remained standing, and the professor motioned for her to continue.

  “Yes, professor. Transting runes and interpreting their meanings is hardly magical. Archaeologists and linguists in the Muggle world have been doing that for ages.” Hermione grew more excited with each following word, while the others just looked confused. “What the study of ancient runes truly shines in is the creation of spells.”

  “Very good, Ms Granger. Take four points for Gryffindor. You can have a seat now. Perhaps someone else can tell me what dead nguage is most used in the British Isles when it comes to spells? Yes, Ms Abbott?”

  “Latin.”

  “That is correct, take a point for Hufflepuff. The spells we use daily are spoken in butchered Latin for a reason. Words have power, and associating nearly dead nguage with our spells is far safer than modern English. We twist the nguage even further, just in case someone speaks Latin in the vicinity of a wand and accidentally casts a spell. While most spells require intent, sometimes wands act mercurial and simply do whatever they want.” Babbling then pointed her wand at an unlit torch on the wall. “That does not mean you must say the spell perfectly to make it work. For example: something-something-fire-up!”

  Suddenly, the torch lit on fire, causing several students to gasp before cpping in appuse. Professor Babbling blinked at the students’ impressed faces. Then her cheeks reddened slightly, and a small smile started blooming on her face. She coughed loudly and put on a cold mask while waiting for the students to stop.

  Harry was not fooled one bit; the woman loved the attention, but her stoic facade made her look more adorable than assertive.

  “Now, can someone tell me how I did that? Yes, Mr Potter?”

  Harry stood and unsheathed his wand, his eyes finding a simir unlit torch. “It’s quite simple, really. You used a non-verbal spell while masking it as you talked. Just like this!”

  He pointed his wand at the torch, and it burst afme.

  “Impressive. Non-verbal spells at your age. Take ten points for Gryffindor. However,” Babbling smirked, “I managed to cast it while I was speaking. You had to finish talking before casting it. Still not bad, but you have a way to go, Mr Potter.”

  Harry gawked, was she…by the gods! She's acting smug at showing him up! He, a third-year student! He looked around the css, finding several students simirly staring at the teacher, or softly chuckling; Tracey was grinning at him like she had just heard the biggest joke. Hell, even Hermione beside him looked torn between outrage and smiling.

  Feeling defeated and aggrieved, he was about to sit down when Theodore Nott suddenly ughed and ughed loudly for some foolish reason.

  “Hah, serve you right for showing off, Potter! I always knew you were an attention seeker who—”

  “Do you want me to tie your limbs into a knot and shove your foot down your throat, Nott? Let's see if you can still talk smart then,” Harry growled as he left his table and gred at the rat-faced boy, even as Hermione tried to calm him. “I promise I can make your life hell, and neither Daddy dearest nor the staff will save you from what I will do to you.”

  The temperature in the room fell as Harry felt his blood rushing to his head, but Ghost quickly calmed him down. Perhaps he could accept the banter and backtalk from the teacher, but from a nobody like Nott?

  “P-Professor! Potter is threatening me!” As expected, the brat’s face had gone unnaturally pale and turned to the teacher for help…yet Bathsheba Babbling merely looked amused.

  Normally, he would be far more composed than to allow someone to easily provoke him, especially not in a css setting, but he would not accept any bullshit. Still, he would rather not seem like a violent brute who could not retaliate with words; Harry took a deep, calming breath and looked expectantly at the teacher.

  “I don't know, Mr Nott. I am quite certain Mr Potter did not so much as threaten but give you a promise.” Surprisingly, the tiny professor had a wide and nearly manic grin as she twirled her wand in her hand. “To provoke a wizard who has just shown he is years ahead of all of you in wandwork so recklessly…are you perhaps a dulrd?”

  Loud ughter erupted from the same table as Nott, who looked in disbelief at the teacher who refused to pander to him. Harry, however, was staring at Tracey, who continued to ugh, even Pansy covered her mouth as her shoulders shook before several giggles sounded from the Hufflepuff table.

  Theodore Nott’s pale face turned crimson as he gritted his teeth. “Dulrd? Anyone can use non-verbal spells with enough practice, Potter's nothing special. More importantly, how could you allow him to get away with threatening me?! And you call yourself a teacher? When my father hears about—”

  Suddenly, the Professor's wand flicked so fast that Harry nearly missed it when Nott’s mouth vanished!

  “I would like to remind everyone that as a teacher, I enjoy plenty of privileges when it comes to discipline.” Babbling’s tone was idle, as if she was discussing the weather outside, completely ignoring Pansy’s fearful shrieks and Nott’s panicking, blinding waving of his wand—not even a light appeared. “If I speak to one of you in a certain way, that is my privilege as a professor; None of you has any right to speak simirly to one of your peers unless you are willing to face the consequences. I prefer not to deduct points or give detentions. Instead, since Mr Nott believes non-verbal casting is so simple, he could challenge Mr Potter to a duel here and now. Of course, Mr Potter will only use non-verbal spells, and when he wins, you shall apologise first to him and then to me for wasting my bloody time!”

  Nott’s frantic wand-waving only grew more frantic, but the wand remained lifeless.

  Bathsheba Babbling looked at him pointedly, and Harry grinned, withdrew his wand, and made a bow at Nott’s location. “Whenever Theodore is ready, Professor. I promise not to utter a single word.”

  The entire css looked on with interest as they waited for Nott to stand, but the boy only stared wildly at the professor, his mouth completely repced with skin as if it had never existed. Babbling raised an eyebrow as she waved her wand and returned his mouth.

  “It appears you have already forfeited. What do you have to say for yourself?”

  Theodore Nott’s face still looked terrified as he hurriedly gulped air before gring at him for a moment, yet the craven boy wouldn't meet his eyes for longer than a few heartbeats before averting them. “I apologise.”

  “Splendid! Are you satisfied, Mr Potter? Then have a seat, but I shall still take five points from Gryffindor for disrupting my css.” Harry nodded and returned to his seat, feeling it fair—he did lose his temper. Professor Babbling then turned to the rest of the room. “I have been teaching Ancient Runes in Hogwarts for nine years. I'm not a ckwit to not realise my height and appearance would make you believe I'm a hack.” Babbling stopped before Smith at the Hufflepuff table, before asking innocently, “Do you think I'm a pushover?”

  “N-Not at all, Professor.”

  Professor Babbling fixed her steely gaze on several students who had whispered behind her back when she tripped earlier. Harry had no idea how she managed to hear them, but he had already learned that this short woman was not one to be underestimated.

  “Very good. Now, let's get back to today's lesson. You will learn more about non-verbal spells in Defence Against the Dark Arts, but we have digressed. To summarise, Ancient Runes will teach you which words to use for any spell you may create or modify. Knowledge of Charms and Arithmancy is vital, so do not attempt to craft spells until at least your NEWT years.”

  “Wait, so if I'm not taking Arithmancy, how will this css benefit me?” Dean asked as he scratched his head. “Don't we also get the option to drop core subjects after O.W.L.s?”

  “For starters, do well in this css, and you will easily pass your Ancient Runes O.W.L. exam. I hear many jobs require them these days,” Babbling said in the same tone that one would speak to a five-year-old child. “Besides, who said that was the only use for Ancient Runes? Aside from researching history and joining transtion movements, there are far more useful things runes can do. Can anyone tell me what they are?”

  Hermione’s hand flew into the air, but the professor looked around the css, finding only Tracey with her hand up. “Go ahead, Ms Davis.”

  “Enchanting!”

  “While not the answer I sought, you are absolutely right! Take five points to Slytherin.” Professor Babbling grabbed a pin disk from the table and held it up. “This is a completely mundane disk made from cy. It has no inherent magic whatsoever, yet by inscribing a spell on it like so,” the witch traced her wand on the surface, inscribing an entire sentence in Latin script that circled the outer rim of the disk before inscribing a single word in the centre, “and charging it with your magic, you get this!”

  Harry could feel Professor Babbling's magic fring as she infused the cy disk with power. Then, she tossed it in the air, where it stopped by itself and turned into a fming hawk that circled the cssroom for a few ps before nding on a perch the professor conjured.

  “So,” Professor Babbling grinned at them. “What do you think? Still believe this noble art of Ancient Runes is just about memorising and transting dead nguages?”

  To say the entire css was in awe would be an understatement. Harry had focused heavily on what the professor was doing, making sure she wasn't tricking them with Transfiguration or Charm work, but no, the only time she used magic was when she charged the disk.

  “How…How did you do that?” Susan asked, his girlfriend's shock reminded him that just yesterday she did not have a high opinion of the subject.

  “Magic is wondrous yet full of limits. To simplify it, I instilled my will and intent in the words I inscribed, which were not exactly a spell but a chant. You will learn about the difference between chants and spells ter in the term. Think of it like a time-deyed spell, but instead of a wand, I used a simple cy disk.” Professor Babbling raised her hand for the fming hawk to fly to, which turned back into a disk just before nding, causing it to miss and shatter into dust. “Unfortunately, there are severe limitations to the materials used for such enchantments. Mere cy will barely st a few seconds before the magic fails.”

  The professor then brought a simple iron knife from the table and swiftly engraved a rune on its bde. Babbling then held it face down and let go of it, allowing it to fall on the stone floor…and sink all the way to the hilt, much to Harry's shock. Such sharpness—not even Valyrian Steel was so sharp!

  “Iron and steel are more durable and st longer, but are resistant to magic, making it far harder to inscribe an enchantment. This knife has a simple enchantment that makes it sharper than normal. You will need a special tool, as only master enchanters can make do with just a wand.”

  What a subtle way to brag, considering you easily inscribed it with your wand. Harry idly touched the bracelet on his wrist, which allowed him to summon Gryffindor. He already knew much of what the professor was saying, thanks to Estelle, but he couldn't help but join the rest of the css’s excitement. Especially when he recalled the items Narcissa used in her fight: if he had even a fraction of such tools…

  “Precious metals are less durable but complement magic more, but it's not just metals; just simple parchment would work better than mundane wood or cy. While certain magical materials provide the best results, you will find they are incredibly rare and expensive to procure. There are cons and pros for every method, but that's the beauty of enchantment…which you shall not touch until the sixth year!”

  The excited cmour came to a screeching halt. Hermione groaned beside him as she facepalmed.

  “Of course, we won't be doing anything remotely like enchantment in a css that focuses on researching dead nguages.”

  Professor Babbling cackled, not ughed or chuckled, but cackled like a loon for a moment at the disappointment oozing from the students before coughing. “Right you are, Ms Granger. It's only when you are in your N.E.W.T.s that I will normally teach enchantment, but that branch of magic requires knowledge of Charms, Transfiguration, and Arithmancy. Don't fret if you didn't pick Arithmancy—you don't need to be a master in the subject to use its teachings.”

  The excited mutterings returned, if more subdued than before, and Susan raised her hand in question.

  “Do you have a question, Ms Bones?”

  “Yes, I was wondering which runes we will learn this term. The sylbus was not entirely clear about it.”

  “Fair point, as I intentionally left it vague. Naturally, the first nguage you will learn is Latin. Notice I said nguage, not runes. I will expin ter, as we don't have enough time. As for runes, you will learn the traditional pictograms that witches and wizards have used since time immemorial in the nds of Akkad and Babylon. Nearly all European magicks stem from either Mesopotamia or Egypt—don't worry, we won't touch hieroglyphics for a long time—but those don’t include the Elder Futhark that influenced European wizards for the past 1500 years.”

  Harry just rubbed his brow as the teacher ended up confusing him more than informing him. He might need to study more on the history of this world to understand even half of what she was saying. At least he could count on Hermione, who was taking notes with an excited grin.

  “Now, I believe we have digressed enough, so open your books to page seven and read the first chapter: pictures and numbers.”

  They quickly opened their books and started reading, Professor Babbling following along with her own book and expining things on the board. Half an hour ter, when the css was nearly over, a voice whispered beside Hermione.

  “Man, this css is turning out to be a riot! It's so cool that we will learn how to charm things with a hammer and chisel.”

  Harry frowned at the girl in confusion…until he remembered her. What the actual fuck? How did he nearly forget Fay? Hermione looked confused at Fay’s grin, which was steadily turning brittle until Harry elbowed the bushy-haired girl.

  “You got that right, Fay.” The way the girl's face lit up like a Christmas tree gave Harry warning bells—something was really off about her, and he was starting to feel curious. “What do you think, Hermione? Is it your favourite elective yet?”

  Hermione, who had been staring at Fay for longer than politeness dictated, jerked awake. “Oh, Er, it's too early to decide before we see the other ones. Fay, I was wondering if they teach enchantment differently back home?”

  Fay's eyes widened in excitement as she and Hermione chatted about her home, just as the bell rang and a voice called from the front.

  “Don’t forget your homework for next Tuesday. Write me ten inches on which runes you are most interested in studying and why. Css dismissed, Mr Harry Potter? Please stay for a moment.”

  Harry paused. He was about to join Susan, but she waved him on. “We'll meet at the Defence css.”

  “Alright.” He nodded at Tracey as she walked past, giving him her familiar grin, before finding Hermione already gone, probably gone to the Muggle Studies css via Time-Turner shenanigans. As the cssroom emptied, Harry approached the tiny witch seated on her desk with an impassive face. The more he looked at her, the more he realised how small yet mature she was. None could confuse her for a little girl, only a short woman.

  “Yes, Professor?”

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