Helen burst out laughing, her mouth open wide. It was a few seconds before she found her breath and spoke through the laugh.
"I think that was me!"

The man chuckled slightly, but it vibrated through the boat. "Well, there's no rule sayin' you can't touch the water, but always be prepared for a poke'r'two should you want to," he said.

The castle loomed before the crowd of boats, and the conversation quieted, though still held an excited buzz under the surface.

Giselle jumped again, but smiled widely when she saw the usually stoic-faced Helen laughing so freely. "I-I'm sorry," she murmured. "I guess I'm just over-excited--Oh, we're here!"

Right as she finished speaking, the prow of the boat bumped against the shore. The students clambered out in as orderly a fashion as the professors could get them in, then filed up to the castle doors.

Giselle was hushed, her eyes round in awe. Here she was, almost in her new school... her new home.

"I can't wait to get to the Feast and be Sorted," she whispered to Helen.

"It's the other way around, isn't it?" Asked a girl nearby.

"Oh, that's right," Giselle laughed. "I guess I forgot for a moment there."

Then they were through the castle doors and being led into a room just beside a pair of huge double doors that surely led into the Great Hall itself. The students were by that point at the height of their excitement, and the teachers were having a hard time getting them to quiet down.

"Madam Hooch will be here in a moment," called out a professor whom Giselle could not see. "Please keep your voices down and listen to what she tells you. She will be in charge of the Sorting Ceremony."

That got everyone to hush.

There was another moment of suspenseful silence. A few kids giggled, but the sound extinguished. After yet another moment, it was complete, deathly silence. The Professor up front looked over the crowd, then a smile cracked. "Good."

After that, a sweep of his arm prompted the doors to swing open slowly. They moved aside to reveal the enormous room on the other side. Tables ran the length of the hall, and the ceiling stretched above the quickly advancing children. Hundreds of candles floated above their heads, which almost distracted them from the looks and whispers pointed their way as they traveled. Every surface glistened with warm, sparkling light.

Helen looked around with the rest as she followed, sticking fairly close to Giselle. She spotted Teddy Lupin sitting at one of the long tables. His eyes met hers, and he glared, his hair quickly darkening to black. She bit her laugh back. He was so moody.

"WELCOME, soon-to-be first years!" a woman's voice piped up, which turned all eyes to the front. Her short hair was white as snow, her face was wrinkled, and her fingers were rather spindly, but she carried herself with the grace of a hawk, and her smile glowed like the ceiling.

"I am Madam Hooch, and it is my honor to welcome you to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. To begin your life here, you must first be sorted, as I'm sure most of you know." A general commotion rose, but dissipated of its own accord. Madame's talons hooked around a golden scroll that sat on a stool up front, next to an old, battered hat with a point.

"When I call your name, please step to the front. You will wear the Sorting Hat, and be placed in your house."

Helen gulped.

Madame Hooch pulled the scroll open.
"Opal Anderson!" she called into the black-clad crowd.

A girl Helen remembered seeing on the train pushed through to the front. She wasn't nearly as loud and jumpy as she'd been on the way there. They were all in suspense. Madame Hooch smiled widely, closed the scroll, then picked up the old hat. "Please, sit," she motioned toward the stool. The girl named Opal did as she was told, and the hat was placed on her head.

The wrinkles in the hat suddenly came to life, and a few of the children in front of the group jumped. It looked quite like two eyes with raised eyebrows, and a wide, dark mouth beneath. The point rose on its own, and the eyes looked at the head it had been placed on. Opal squealed just a bit.

"Well, 'allo, lovely. You're quite a beast, aren't you?" said the Sorting Hat. Opal stayed quiet. The hat was enormous, and might have enveloped her whole head. The Hat's eyebrows wagged for a moment, and it made a sound like it was thinking. "Mmmmm..." A moment of silence came.

"GRYFFINDOR!" it finally screamed. Opal grinned widely, and her eyes beamed. The Madame took the hat by its point, lifting it off the girl. She then motioned toward one of the tables.

"Join your house table, and we shall continue."

Opal walked quickly to the end of a table full of kids wearing red and gold ties. The grin was still on her face, and conversation was immediately struck with those around her. The glow in her eyes made her look quite a different girl than the bratty little thing Helen had seen on the Express. Madame Hooch set the Sorting Hat back on the stool, and pulled the scroll open again.

Several more names were read. Boys and girls were sent to their tables, new Ravenclaws, Gryffindors, and Hufflepuffs joining the ranks with wide grins on their faces. The few Slytherins glided to the appropriate table with more of a satisfied smirk.

Giselle stared at the Sorting Hat as it abruptly sprang to life, then applauded with the rest of the students and teachers as each new First Year was Sorted.

"...Grace Anton!"
"Ravenclaw!"

"...Peter Asworth..."
"Slytherin!"

There were a few more 'A' last names before Madam Hooch shifted the scroll slightly and moved on to the 'B' names.

"...Bertha Betterby..."
"Hufflepuff!"

"...Roald Boatmaster..."
"Gryffindor!"

"...Helen Bryer!"

Giselle turned to grin at the girl standing near her. "It's your turn," she whispered. "I hope you get into a House that you like!"

That was all that she had the chance to say before a teacher standing nearby was directing Helen towards the Sorting Hat.

Helen gulped, but there was no outward change. She'd been intently watching each one of them get sorted, her heart jumped when she heard her name. She pushed her way to the front just as Giselle said something she only barely heard. Madame Hooch lifted the hat once again, and Helen hopped up on the stool.

The hat looked at her from where it dangled, which unnerved her a bit. It gave a small, dark laugh as it was placed on her head. Did it like freaking kids out? "Well, well, well," it began, "What do we have here?"

"Just get on with it," Helen muttered. She felt the hat straighten on her head, then let the point fall back over.

"Oooh, a feisty one," it mocked. "Bold one. Cleeeever one..." Its voice echoed inside itself. Helen held her tongue, but it was hard. This wasn't just some other kid on the train. The Hat doubled over, and she presumed it was looking at her.

"You want to do so much good," it echoed. "Do so much good...do so much..." the voice trailed. A moment of silence came.

"SLYTHERIN!" it boomed. Helen's eyes flew wide. The hat was snatched off her head by the old woman, and she motioned to a table full of kids wearing green and silver ties. Helen walked quickly over to it and slid onto the bench. She wasn't sure what Madame Hooch said after that, because the Slytherins around her leaned in for congratulations.

"Welcome to royalty," a boy with blonde hair said. The rest of them laughed, but Helen froze, the sound seeping into her skin like something toxic.

Giselle's eyes widened as Helen was named a Slytherin. What had that boy said about Slytherin...? Not that Giselle herself bought into any of that, but what did Helen think of her Sorting? Though she strained on her tip-toes to get a glimpse of Helen, the brunette-haired girl could not see her over the heads of her fellow First Years.

The names continued to be read off the scroll, with the Hat continuing to Sort them according to... whatever it used to decide where they were to be placed.

Finally, Giselle heard it:

"Giselle Laughland!"

A brief period of silence, then a flurry of whispers broke out.

"Laughland? Did she say Laughland?"

"That Laughland?"

"Isn't that the name of one of the higher-up wizarding families?"

"Yeah, my mum says..."

Giselle turned pale just as she had on the train as she heard people whispering all around her. Some sounded in awe, some confused, some neutral, some wondering what all the fuss was about in the first place.

On shaking legs she strode up to the stool where the Hat waited, trying desperately not to let her nerves show, but honestly not being aware of whether she was succeeding in that or not. She lowered herself onto the stool.

The brim of the Hat dropped down to cover her eyes.

"OOOOOOooh," the Hat erupted. "I haven't had one of the Laughlands for a while... How about Ravenclaw? Lovely house--runs in your family, as I remember. Bunch of smarties, those are..."

"U-Uhm," Giselle stammered out... mentally, as she had the feeling that only she, at this moment, could hear the Hat.

"Oh, but what's this...? Ah, you're a strange girlie, aren't you? Yes, yes... oh, this is delicious, yes, this is really very curious!"

"What is?" Giselle, in her anxiety, accidentally spoke out loud.

"...You know what, I don't really know." The Hat's voice burst out laughing directly next to her right ear. It was extremely disconcerting for the already nerve-wracked girl.

"Have you ever heard of such a thing? Me, the all-knowing Sorting Hat, being CONFUSED about an ickle Firstie!" Giselle got the feeling that it was mocking both her and itself. "But... what's this... AH. AHHHHHhhh."

"What's wrong?" Giselle demanded, tears threatening to spill over.

"...No. No, I don't think I'll tell you just yet. It'll be fun, and from what I CAN tell, you do so like to have your fun, don't you? Tell you what, as payback for giving me the good ol' run-around, why don't I put you in...

"HUFFLEPUFF."

Giselle blinked as the darkness of the inside of the Hat was lifted from her eyes and the brilliant candlelight of the Great Hall met her vision once more. She could have sworn she heard the Sorting Hat mutter, as it was borne from her head, "When you get a clue, come see me, if you can figure even that much out on your own."

Helen's heart sank slightly. Why had she hoped Giselle would be a Slytherin? It didn't seem like her, in the least. But there was something that had hoped.

A cheer rose out of the Hufflepuff table, and the rest of the sorting commenced. It seemed to take forever, with an almost sickening suspense with each person who sat on the stool. The Slytherins around Helen didn't really pay much attention, only erupted with a welcoming buzz when someone approached the table.

Scorpius Malfoy was called and, even before he sat on the stool with a smirk, the Slytherin table burst into applause. The Hat fell onto his head. It gave a little hiccup, said "Oh, right, yes. Slytherin," then the boy joined the table.

Albus Potter was called, and silence fell. The hat swiftly shuffled him into Gryffindor, and there was a loud cheer. Even some of the Slytherins rose their hands with it. Helen was one of them. He was followed by Rose Weasley, a bright-faced girl with flaming red hair, who practically skipped up to the stool. After a brief conversation with the Hat, she was proclaimed a Gryffindor, as well, and hopped off to her table.

Then, finally, there was no one left, and Madame Hooch closed the scroll, stepping to the side, bringing the stool and hat with her.

Giselle made her wobbling way to the table along which students with yellow and black ties sat, stumbling once or twice as she went. The second time, her arm was caught steadyingly by a Gryffindor boy around her age; looking up in part surprise, part gratefulness, she saw that his eyes were a brilliant green.

"Hey, are you all right?" He asked her, his brow furrowing upon looking into her pale face and her still tear-filled eyes.

"I-I-I'm fine," she gasped out, quickly standing and pulling away from his hand. "Th-thank you, but I'm fine," she amended her abrupt actions in a whisper. "I have to get to my table now."

It wasn't until after she was seated between two taller girls that she took a deep, shaky breath.

"Are you okay?" One of the girls asked.

"Did you not want to be in Hufflepuff?" The other one queried. "I know that the Sorting Hat tries to be considerate, but sometimes people get disappointed..."

"N-no, it's not that," Giselle protested feebly. By this point she wouldn't have noticed if the Hat had Sorted her to live in the Forbidden Forest--what had it meant by its strange words and mocking laughter?

"Must be all the excitement getting to you," the first girl said with a sympathetic nod. "I remember when I was Sorted a few years ago. Muggle, are ya? Me too."

"Oh, Cassie, you still don't know a thing," the second girl sighed, though not very scornfully at all. "The Laughlands? They're among the ranks of the Potters and the Malfoys."

"No way!" Cassie's eyes widened. Giselle shrunk in her seat.

Just then, a tall, thin woman with snow-white hair pulled into a severe bun stood and rapped her cane on the long table that ran the length of the front of the Great Hall. Giselle looked up and immediately realized that that was where all the teachers were sitting, and that the white-haired woman was directly in the middle of the table.

"Headmistress McGonagall," Cassie whispered to Giselle. "She's gonna make her speech now, and then we'll eat."

"Greetings to new and old students alike," the woman called out. "I would like to welcome you to the grounds and halls of Hogwarts, whether you have been here before or this is your first time entering its doors."

As the Headmistress continued to speak, Giselle took the time to work on calming herself down by looking around and taking in the new faces around her. She saw the same extremely hairy man from the boats at the teachers' table up front, as well as Professor Longbottom's congenially round face turned to look at Headmistress McGonagall as she talked.

She also saw a balding man wearing a wide smile, his hands clasped comfortably over his slightly bulging stomach. A woman sat directly to his left, dressed in airy gossamer robes and bedecked in so many silver charms, beads, and dangles that she almost dazzled Giselle's eyes.

The younger man next to the silver-charmed woman was impeccably groomed, with alert dark eyes beneath his nape-length black hair. Giselle was surprised at how young he looked; he and the airily-dressed woman appeared to be the youngest out of all the professors there. Absently, the girl wondered how long they had been teaching at the school.

She didn't have much time to look over the rest of the professors at the table before Headmistress McGonagall was saying, "...and as always, the Forbidden Forest has been named such for a reason, and Professor Hagrid wishes for you to remember that. Now, I think that is all of the rules and formalities that you need to know for the evening. It's time to enjoy the feast."

The Headmistress sat back down, and Giselle smiled in relief as food materialized onto the plate set on the table in front of her. Everything looked so delicious; she didn't quite know where to start, so she simply speared the nearest chunk of meat on her fork and bit into it with an air of satisfaction.

Helen's eyes lit up at the appearance of the food, though they had slowly been darkening as she tried her best to keep the strange, sickly atmosphere from seeping into her any further. The Slytherins were people, well enough, except for a certain girl she assumed to be some sort of miniature troll, from what intelligence could be gained from her. She turned her attention to digging into the food, and it was easier to ignore the comments of those around her as she did.

The Welcoming Feast was long and short at the same time. The hall's warm glow filled the insecurities and doubts of her mind for just a while, and she blended into the buzz, fear having melted away. The feast diminished, and conversation slowed. Helen caught a small cupcake as it flew through the air, flung from the fork handle of the boy opposite her.

The Headmistress stood from her place in the center of the table up front. She stayed there for a moment, until all eyes realized she was standing, and looked at her. "We will now retire for the night, for a bright and early day of classes tomorrow. You are all dismissed. Please follow your house prefect, and you will be shown to your dormitories."

Helen stowed the cupcake in her bag and slid out of the bench.

The tall girl sitting on Giselle's right side stood, calling out to the Hufflepuff table in general, "Come along, come along! All Hufflepuff First Years, follow me and Corey, here." With that, she turned and began to stride towards the back doors of the Great Hall, along with a stick-thin boy who had been sitting on the other side of her. Giselle shoveled down one last bite of food and did her best to keep up.

"Are you sure you're feeling all right, now?" The prefect girl asked Giselle in an undertone as they left the Great Hall. Giselle blushed and nodded.

"Much better, since I've eaten," she replied softly. The prefect girl smiled.

"Good. By the way, my name's Samantha, but everyone calls me Sam. Just talk to me if you need anything, okay?"

"Yes, thank you." Giselle then spotted Helen nearby and without thinking ran over.

"Oi, no getting out of line!" Corey called out.

"Sorry, I'll be right back!" Giselle shouted back before turning to Helen. "We'll see each other again, right? Even though we're in different Houses? I'll check the class roster and maybe we'll have a class together," she babbled hopefully. She really had grown to like the stoic girl.

Helen was suddenly yanked out of her thoughts of something else. She pushed a smile onto her face. She was happy, of course, but it helped to show it when people wanted to see. "Well, yeah," she started. "Friends don't change with the color they wear," she finished flippantly, the smile fading slightly with the weight of the statement.

One of the prefects from the Hufflepuff line waved his hands animatedly. Helen's eyes snapped onto his. He jumped slightly, realizing she was looking at him, even though her expression was neutral. She put her hands on Giselle's shoulders and turned her around.

"I'll see you tomorrow!" Helen said before giving the girl a light shove.

After that, Helen rejoined the ranks of the taller students, keeping up with the line as it snaked out of the Great Hall, through the hallways, and deeper into the foundation of the castle. It was getting cold, and she tensed her shoulders against it. Suddenly, the line stopped.

"Medusa!" someone called in front. Helen jumped up and down, trying to see what was happening. There was the sound of stone on stone, then the line began moving forward again. As Helen came up to the wall, she saw the bricks had re-formed themselves into an archway, which led into a long, lavishly furnished room that glowed faint green. She sighed, then followed the girls to find her bed.

Giselle practically floated back to the line of Hufflepuffs, not noticing Sam and Corey, among others, looking at her quizzically. Friends! Helen had called them friends...

"Who was that?" Sam asked with a neutral face.

"My friend Helen," the younger girl replied, nearly gushing from her happiness. There was that word again; friend!

The prefect looked at her, then visibly relaxed. "Well, I guess that's okay then."

Giselle tipped her head to the side in a puzzled fashion. "What's okay?

"No, it's noth--Oh, here we are."

The newly Sorted Hufflepuffs stopped in front of a large still-life painting of a bowl filled to overflowing with various delectable-looking pastries, and a jug of pumpkin juice set beside it. A few empty recipe cards leaned upright against the jug.

Corey stepped forward and swept a large black and white quill from the sleeve of his robe. Leaning forward slightly, he wrote something on the topmost recipe card that Giselle could not read.

The written word shook for a moment before swirling about and condensing into a shining black doorknob, which Corey took in his hand and twisted. Immediately, the painting swung inward to reveal a large, yet homey-seeming room. Bright yellow tapestries with "H" or badgers hung about on the walls; there was also an enormous fireplace with a hearth of black stone. Set in the continuous wall of the round room were seven wooden doors, all perfectly round with a knob in the middle.

Giselle grinned with delight when it came to be her turn to enter the room. So this was to be her new home!

When everyone was inside and the door-painting had swung shut again, Corey and Sam turned to face the First-Years. "Okay, everyone, a few words before bed. First, there's no set lights-out time, but there is a castle curfew of nine at night, and you're expected to stay in the common room later on in the evening to..."

After a few more minutes, Corey summed up speaking and everyone went to their respective dormitories. Though she thought she would be too excited to go to bed first thing, Giselle was asleep soon after her head hit the pillow.

* * * * *

She was eating breakfast in the Great Hall with the rest of the students when the owls flew in. Giselle stared, open-mouthed, as bird after bird soared high above, dropping envelopes and packages into respective students' hands. Though she had of course seen owls before, she'd never seen so many at once.

She had brought Clarice with her, feeding the grey rat crumbles of toast; however, her pet had dived under her napkin upon seeing the owls fly in.

"Clarice, it's okay!" Giselle tried to coax the rat out into the open once more. "They won't eat you, I promise."

In the end, the First Year Hufflepuff had to practically drag her rat out from under the napkin when students began leaving the Great Hall for their first class of the day.

"Clarice, come ON," the girl pleaded, attempting to pull her rat out in the most gentle manner possible.

"Wingardium leviosa!" A voice called out suddenly. Clarice flew into the air, napkin still on top of her, squealing in terror.

"Clarice! Oh, are you all right?" Giselle reached up and plucked the rat from where she was floating, then turned on the boy who had recited the spell. "How dare you! Scaring Clarice like that!"

She found herself glaring into a pair of brilliant green eyes.

"Sorry?" It was the boy from last night who had helped her when she'd stumbled after being Sorted. He was obviously on the defense. "I was just trying to help."

"Well, you could have done it in a more gentle way," Giselle muttered, stroking her rat in an attempt to calm her down. "Don't you know that rats frighten easily?"

"...No. I've never had a rat. Uncle Ron doesn't like them." Shaking his head, the boy turned away. "Sorry for scaring your rat," he said sullenly over his shoulder before walking off.

Giselle was almost of a mind to apologize... Then she realized that the Great Hall was nearly emptied of students.

"Oh no! I'm going to be late for my class... Defense Against the Dark Arts," she mumbled to herself, hastily grabbing a piece of parchment with her schedule on it.

It turned out that, running like mad, she made it just in time. Slumping into the desk nearest to the door, she sighed. She knew she looked like a mess; flushed and out of breath.

"At least I'm not late," she whispered. Looking around the room, she realized that some students with green and silver striped ties were looking at her and smirking or giggling. Turning even more red, she ducked her head, letting her hair fall to hide her face.

Wait... had she seen... sitting across from her...

Giselle's head shot back up. It was her friend!

"Helen!" She cried out happily, completely forgetting her disheveled state and the students who were laughing at her. "I didn't know we had the same class!"

Helen stayed stone silent and still as Giselle slid into the seat next to her. She tried not to snicker. That girl was nice, and all, but hardly observant. Helen froze, looking straight ahead, until Giselle realized her company and let her words burst forth. Only then did a small, sly smile spread across Helen's face.

She laughed quietly, then waved lightly. She was about to say something, when an older voice cut her off, as well as the murmuring conversation in the rest of the room. A tall, spindly man in a black robe walked quickly to the head of the classroom, a tall stack of books under his arm.

"Ah, hallo. Sorry. Sorry about that," he kept saying on his way. His voice was calm and clear, but his tones made his word an odd, disjoined mess, like random notes on a page. He didn't seem nervous, judging by the clarity, but a piece of his mind was on something else. He finally reached the head of the room, then set his books down on the wooden table. He then placed his hand on the top, and finally calmed, giving a slow sigh, staring at the back of the pale appendage. Under his robe, he wore a black suit with a white shirt--the color of his skin nearly melted into the latter.

Helen stared in curiosity, as did most of the class.

"I am Professor Grimm," the man suddenly piped up, his dark eyes flicking up to survey his students. A few of them jumped at the sudden voice. "I will be your teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts, perhaps the most important class you will ever take." He turned away to a nearby blackboard, but threw one more sentence over his shoulder. "And that's not bragging."

His clawlike hand scrawled two words across the board as he continued to speak.
"Now, to find what you already know, and work from there. What is the difference between a charm and a hex?" He left the words on the board and went back to his books. Hands shot up all around Helen and Giselle.

Giselle smiled back at Helen, completely oblivious to the fact that the laughter had turned to quizzical murmurs. The Hufflepuff and Slytherin knew each other, and were on friendly terms? Not that such a situation was unheard of... Still, it was only the first day, and such relationships were liable to change as each grew more integrated into the ways of their respective Houses.

Meanwhile, the wavy-haired brunette was busy telling her mostly silent friend about the charming quality of the completely round doors in the Hufflepuff dormitories. "And would you believe that there are tunnels leading to the bedrooms? I've never seen anything like it. What are the Slytherin dormitories--"

She stopped speaking abruptly as the tall, young male professor from last night strode in. She couldn't help noticing how well dressed he was... a first day custom, maybe? What she didn't notice was how some of the girls in the room immediately snapped to attention. She herself was already taking a quill out of her bag, ready to take notes.

I know this one! Giselle squealed to herself excitedly after Professor Grimm had posed his question. Maybe she could make amends for failing to be able to help out the Teddy Lupin boy on the train... Even perhaps earn points for Hufflepuff if her explanation was up to par. Without thinking of the possible consequences of not raising her hand, she leaned forward, palms spread flat on the desk surface, and blurted out an answer.

"Please, Professor, a Charm enchants an object, and sometimes people, to behave in ways that aren't originally normal for their nature, but it doesn't change the object's actual inherent nature like Transfiguration does. And Hexes," she continued rambling on, warming to her topic, "are somewhat akin to Curses, only not as strong or harmful. Overall, though, they're still negative spells."

When she'd finished speaking in her usual frenetic manner, Giselle leaned back in her chair and took up her quill once more, smoothing her free hand over the sheet of parchment she'd laid out while babbling happily to Helen earlier. There, maybe that would show that she wasn't completely a lost case when it came to magic. She had the knowledge, and the skill... well, that would hopefully come later.

Hopefully.

Grimm had folded his hands as the young Hufflepuff started talking. He then waited patiently for her to finish. As she did, his hand came back up to point one finger in the air. "Thank you, miss..." he held his finger there for a second as he stared vacantly into space. "Laughland," he finally said. The word was like a spell, breaking him of the trance.

"Five points to Hufflepuff. Yet it may have been ten, had you raised your hand."

Helen caught herself tapping her fingers boredly on the desk, and made herself stop. She was listening, and examining this strange, new teacher, but she wanted him to get on with it, already. Grimm stepped closer to the field of desks, moving through them as he continued to speak. "All spells are not the same, as Miss Laughland finely put. Yet there are even finer distinctions, as you will learn this first period. Now, who can tell me the difference between a wizard and a dark wizard?"

They had all been watching his meandering path but, as he gestured back to the chalkboard, a few of the students jumped in surprise. "Charm" and "Hex" were gone, in its place "Wizard" and "Dark Wizard." Helen's hand shot up even before she looked back to the teacher. He was still a few rows over, but his eyes flicked in her direction just as her arm stretched to its fullest length.

"Miss Bryer?"

"Intention," was all she said, pulling her hand back down. He began making his way toward Helen and Giselle's desk.

"If you could elaborate..." he prompted. Helen gulped, but she stared confidently back at him.

"A wizard uses a curse for a justifiable purpose. A dark wizard uses a curse to harm, for selfish ends," she explained. A tiny smile flickered across his face.

"Very good," he began, perking up the slightest bit. "But what happens when a wizard deems the harm justifiable? That is when you must defend yourself," he answered the question before any others raised their hands. Grimm glided past the other side of Helen and Giselle's desk, but stopped cold in his tracks. He turned back with a faint look of curiosity, like he'd felt an impossible draft.

"Do you feel well, Miss Laughland?"

Giselle straightened quickly in surprise, her eyes widening as her hand flew to her forehead. "Do I?" She returned the professor's question, her tone shocked and uncertain.

A few of the students tittered, causing her to flush and lower her hand. "Y-yes, I believe that I am well, Professor," she stammered while trying desperately to appear dignified at the same time. This attempt was broken a second later by her brow furrowing.

"I don't know, though, that could just be me. Do I LOOK ill? Should I go to the Hospital Wing to make sure?" She babbled out, staring at the professor as if for reassurance. He was a professor, after all, he should know better than she! Right?

Unconsciously, her hand rose to her forehead once more. What if she was sick and hadn't realized it? She couldn't be! It would be a disaster if she had to stay in bed because of illness on her first day of school!

Grimm's eyebrow went up. "Ah...no, I believe that was my mistake. My...apology," he said as he walked away slowly. Something in his eyes looked unconvinced, but he shook his head lightly, trying to forget about it. He ran a white, bony hand through his hair as he came back to the table up front.

"Now, in contrast to the dark magic that you will eventually learn to defend yourselves from, there are also creatures that are highly dangerous in nature." At this point, his eyes flicked to Giselle and back within half a second. "Can anyone tell me a bit about these sorts of creatures?"

Professor Grimm reached beneath the table and lifted a small, wooden box that quite resembled a miniature wardrobe set on its back.

Giselle tilted her head to the side, a bit puzzled. Professor Grimm was not being very specific. However, a Slytherin boy in the row to her left raised his hand confidently.

"You mean like vampires and banshees and grindylow and things like that? Werewolves?"

She looked over at him, surprise evident on her face. "But... werewolves aren't 'creatures,' are they? They're classified by the Ministry of Magic as Beings, not Beasts, aren't they? And... they're people most of the time, so that means--"

At this point, Giselle clapped a hand over her mouth, remembering that she wasn't supposed to speak without raising her hand. She blushed hotly as the boy openly scoffed at her.

"So you're defending the weres? What's next, a Protect Our Cuddly Werewolf Friends League?"

Some students laughed; others glared, while a few looked uncertain or else completely unconcerned.

Helen's head snapped around, and she glared at the other Slytherin. He didn't seem fazed at first, but the haughty look melted into an expression of slight confusion. Her eyes were positively venomous, and stayed locked on him far after the Professor spoke again.

Grimm looked at Helen, then to the boy, and a vague smile flickered on his face. "That is a debate for another day, I'm afraid. For the purposes of this lesson, werewolves will be included under the heading of 'creatures.' But I would encourage you, Mr. Malfoy, that in the future you not be so careless in how you voice your...opinions."

A few of the Hufflepuffs snickered quietly, then were promptly silenced by death-glares from other Slytherins. Grimm put one hand on each of the top-knobs of the box. He fanned his fingers, and was a little less composed, eager to open it.

"Many wizards flaunt their massive power, and just as many, their massive intelligence. What I am here to teach you is that neither is so valuable alone as together. Power must be tempered with intellect, and the intellect must be spurred on with it's equal energy. Only then may a seamless defense be mustered." One of his hands came off the knob, and the wooden box jerked. A look of alarm flashed on his face, but quickly vanished as he grabbed the knob again.

"Do I have a volunteer?"