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HP Chapter 17: The East
🕑 Added 2025-08-01 17:24:40 +0000 UTCThe first headache Anne encountered upon returning to Hogwarts wasn’t the Golden Trio, it was waking up.
After spending the entire Christmas holiday sleeping in naturally every day, she found it nearly impossible to adjust back to early morning classes in the cold, damp castle. Still, she had no choice. Once again, she had to rely on Fanny to drag her out of bed. Fortunately, Fanny had grown used to Anne’s gift for oversleeping and didn’t complain as she helped her get ready.
Of course, there was one morning Anne would never dare to sleep in, Friday mornings, when they had Potions.
But even so, she nearly messed up her first Potions class after the break. Her body clock was still completely out of sync, and in a half-asleep daze, she accidentally pulled out her Herbology textbook during class. The moment she opened it, Snape’s expression turned so cold it felt like the temperature in the room had dropped several degrees.
Realizing her mistake, Anne scrambled to switch the books in record time and then calmly answered several of Snape’s most difficult questions with a composed face, as if nothing had happened.
After class, Fanny rushed over, still shaken. “You scared me to death! I thought Professor Snape was going to toss you into the lake to wake you up. I swear, you must be the first student in Hogwarts history to pull out the wrong subject’s textbook in his class… and survive it!”
Anne clutched her chest and replied with lingering fear, “Honestly, if I hadn’t answered those tricky questions right, I probably would be swimming in the lake right now. Thank goodness I actually studied over the holidays.”
Though privately, she added to herself: thank that one overly curious academic on the train and all those endless questions during the break.
After this near-death experience, Anne managed to fix her sleep schedule for about a week. After that… well, at least she stayed awake on Fridays.
In January, all of Hogwarts was abuzz about one particular event: the Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff Quidditch match.
It was a crucial game for Gryffindor. If they beat Hufflepuff, they’d top the House Cup standings and finally break Slytherin’s seven-year winning streak.
But the bigger controversy was the referee, Professor Snape.
The entire school was whispering that Snape would never let Gryffindor win.
Anne couldn’t care less about any of that. Still, when the match day came, Fanny dragged her to the pitch. “Come on, Anne! It might be an exciting match! And I’m really curious to see if our Head of House will be biased toward Hufflepuff.”
Anne knew full well that girls their age preferred to do things in groups, and since Fanny always brought her breakfast and helped her get to class, she went along.
The stands were packed. Students from Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, and Slytherin shouted themselves hoarse for their respective teams. Anne sat down, already feeling her eardrums throb from the noise. She and Fanny had to practically shout at each other to be heard.
“Fanny!” Anne yelled. “Isn’t it weird? I haven’t seen Malfoy today.”
She had scanned the entire Slytherin stand without spotting him. With a frown, she wondered, Surely he didn’t sneak off to lose House points again?
Fanny pointed toward the Gryffindor stand. Anne looked over and saw Malfoy and his cronies confronting Ron and Neville.
Yep, sounds about right.
Then her eyes moved to the teachers’ stand.
Wait, why is Dumbledore here too? Anne spotted the familiar silver beard and twinkling eyes. Is Quirrell up to something again? No, no, don’t get involved. Not my business.
Barely a minute into the match, Snape awarded Hufflepuff a penalty, which they scored. A wave of booing erupted through the stadium.
Anne looked at Snape and couldn’t help thinking, No wonder people think you're the villain, Professor. You're really making it hard to root for you.
Two minutes later, another penalty to Hufflepuff.
Now even the usually calm Gryffindors were yelling in frustration. Anne glanced over and saw Ron, Neville, and Malfoy in a full-on scuffle in the stands.
On the pitch, Harry had spotted the Golden Snitch and was diving after it with everything he had. Before Hufflepuff’s Seeker could react, Harry snatched it right out of the air.
The game was over.
The stadium exploded with cheers.
No one could remember a match ending that fast. The Gryffindor section roared with excitement, their voices flooding the entire pitch. Even some Slytherins stood to applaud, strength and skill were always respected.
Anne was thrilled. A short match? Perfect.
Fanny was just as pleased. She always admired people with real talent.
Later that evening, at dinner, Anne noticed Malfoy and his followers at the Slytherin table, bruised and swollen, clearly worse for wear.
Curious, she leaned toward Fanny. “So, Malfoy got into a fight with the Gryffindor boys this morning? He looks awful.”
“You know about that?”
“Yeah. I saw it through the telescope. He was wrestling with Ron and Neville.”
Fanny rolled her eyes. “Well, he claimed it was the other way around, that he beat them both up while they ganged up on him.”
Anne shrugged and said nothing. She simply dropped the bronze Knut she’d been flipping back into her robe pocket and picked up a plate of tender steak.
“Sigh… I really miss the foods I had over Christmas. White rice, scrambled eggs with tomato, spicy pork stir-fry, braised fish, beef stew with potatoes, eggplant with garlic sauce, bean sprout stir-fry, shredded potatoes with vinegar, tofu…”
“Wait, Anne, what are you even talking about?” Fanny blinked. “I understood the part about eating at a restaurant, but everything after that sounded like… gibberish?”
Anne popped a piece of beef into her mouth and mumbled, “Just names of some dishes that I loved.”
Fanny laughed. “Well, no wonder I didn’t get it. I’ve eaten at a restaurant you mentioned before, some dishes were nice, but some were... not my taste.”
“Oh? What do you like?”
“I like those little pastries! The snacks.”
“Ohhh, you mean dimsum, a breakfast tea.”
“Dim what?”
“Never mind. It’s one of the eight major cuisines in the food that I love… and part of the breakfast tradition.” How was she supposed to explain this in English without revealing how much she knew?
“Wow, there are that many types of food?” Fanny tilted her head. “But Anne, you really seem interested in the East. You’re always reading about Eastern wizardry in the library.”
“Haha, maybe it’s the mystery of it all. Anyway, let’s eat, we still have homework to finish.”
“True. The East is very mysterious.” Fanny returned to slowly cutting into her pork chop.
A week later, Anne and Fanny went to the library. After settling down at one of the tables, Anne got up alone to look for reference books. As she browsed the magical creatures section, she suddenly caught sight of someone, hard not to, really. The man took up the entire narrow aisle.
It was Hagrid.
He was trying to hide a book behind his back, but there was no room for it. He gave Anne a nervous smile.
Anne glanced at the title: “Breeds of British and Irish Dragons” and “From Egg to Inferno?”
Why would Hagrid borrow books like these? she wondered, but didn’t ask. She just nodded politely and walked past him toward the next shelf, plants.
While she was scanning for the book she needed, someone suddenly called out, “Hey, Anne!”
She turned her head. Of course. It was Ron Weasley, the most impulsive member of the trio.
Nothing good ever happened when he showed up.
Anne gave him a polite nod. “Hello, Ron,” and tried to leave.
But Ron stepped right in her path. “You saw Hagrid earlier, right? That huge guy from the first day of school? What kind of books did he check out?”
Anne frowned slightly and tried stepping to the left.
Ron mirrored her movement.
He was staring at her, waiting for an answer.
“…I didn’t see him,” Anne lied.
“But I saw you standing near the magical creatures section, and he was right there,” Ron said immediately.
“…Fine,” Anne said, starting to lose patience. “He checked out two books about dragons. I didn’t ask him why. Satisfied, Mr. Weasley? Can I go now?”
Ron stepped aside.
As she walked away, he muttered to himself, “Dragon books? What would Hagrid want with those? I need to tell Harry and Hermione!”
He returned to the table and blurted out, “I ran into Anne while checking on Hagrid’s books!”
“Anne?” Hermione looked up.
“Yeah, I asked her what Hagrid borrowed. She lied at first, saying she didn’t see him. But I told her I saw her stop by the magical creatures shelf while he was there. So she finally admitted it.”
“She probably got mad,” Hermione interrupted.
Ron blinked. “Yeah! I don’t know why though. She said he borrowed books about dragons! Dragons! What is Hagrid thinking?”
“Hagrid’s always wanted a dragon,” Harry said. “He told me that the first time we met.”
Hermione asked, “What exactly did you do, Ron? When you asked Anne?”
“I didn’t do anything! I just stood there and waited for her answer.”
Then he quickly turned the topic back. “But keeping dragons is illegal! The 1709 Wizarding Convention banned dragon ownership. They’re dangerous and nearly impossible to tame! You should see my brother Charlie, he’s got burns all over from dealing with wild dragons in Romania!”
“Then what’s Hagrid planning?” Harry asked.
Hermione wasn’t listening. She was glancing around the library, searching for Anne, but couldn’t spot her.
Before long, the two boys dragged her off to go snoop around Hagrid’s hut.
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A/N: Sigh. Sometimes there's just no reasoning with people who lack emotional intelligence. Shrugs!
