Hadriana Potter and Mother Magic: Betrayals Chapter 1

Chapter 7

Monday September 2nd, 1991

Their first Transfiguration lesson went exactly as it had in her previous life, though this time Hadriana was the first to transfigure her needle perfectly. McGonagall stared at the shiny, pointed needle with pursed lips and shock in her eyes before stiffly awarding her five points for Slytherin.

Well, then. It seemed that the feline woman was feeling rather catty that she didn’t get the lauded savior in her class. How utterly pathetic of a woman her age. Then again, she had simply adored Lily Evans, James Potter, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. The thought of her father and his friends made her want to gag. James Potter had been a bully. He had assaulted another student physically – even sexually – and gotten away with it. Granted, Severus had called Lily a Mudblood, but he’d been under extreme, humiliating distress.

Professor McGonagall’s clear bias in Transfiguration made Hadriana’s feelings of the woman sour a little further.

The class was a single period, thank the gods, and ended at ten am. Hadriana skedaddled as quickly as possible, wondering how and why she had ignored so many glaring red flags in her past life. Had she always been blind to McGonagall’s bias? Yes, most likely.

“We have potions next,” Blaise told her cheerfully, “Good job transfiguring your needle, Ana,”

Hadriana blinked, “Ana?”

“Yep, your new nickname. Harry is too plebeian, and Ana suits you better. It means gracious,” Blaise explained happily.

Hadriana smiled and hugged Blaise sideways, “Thanks,”

“It also means merciful,” Theo added, eyebrows raising when Hadriana guffawed, “What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Hadriana wheezed, wiping away tears. How ironic that her new nickname meant merciful, when that was the last thing she was going to be toward those who had wronged her.

Theo gave her an odd look, almost like he was wondering if her sanity was intact, as they trooped down to the dungeons. The classroom door was open, so they and their fellow Slytherin first years entered and found tables. Blaise and Draco sat together, and Hadriana nabbed a table with three seats for she, Theo, and Neville.

The Gryffindor’s began trickling in, and Hadriana waved a nervous looking Neville over; his expression turned immediately to relief.

“Hi, guys,” he said quietly, sliding into the seat Hadriana had saved for him.

“Hello, Neville,” Theo greeted kindly, placing his book on the table.

“Hey,” Hadriana murmured, “How was Transfiguration for you?”

“Okay,” Neville mumbled, “I made my matchstick pointy, but not metal,”

Hadriana belatedly remembered that the boy was using his father’s wand because of his grandmother and scowled. How to naturally bring it up? Perhaps in Charms? She would make sure to sit with him.

The door to the classroom slammed and Severus swept to the front of the room, onyx eyes sweeping over the students, “You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making,” he drawled, making Hadriana hide a grin behind her hand. It was the same speech from her first ever potions class, “As there is little foolish wand-waving, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper Death – if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach,”*