Chapter 3- Defense Against The Dark Arts

2.  For the next class he realizes that he doesn't have a book, so he goes to the library. In the library he encounters a diary with notes and the standard book. He starts reading them when he gets fascinated by the notes on the book. Professor Flamel catches him and reminds him of the class, when he takes the book in a hurry and goes to the classroom.

3. The class is led by Professor William Lincoln, who treats Slytherin differently. He brings out a bogart, who turns into a dementor. William asks all the students to try to defeat it using any charm they know of, but then castes a green light on the dementor making it vanish. He clarifies that the aim of this subject shall be to be able to defeat a dementor. Peter looks ambitious. 

4. He carries the book to his dorm at night and starts reading through it realizing plenty of new and interesting spells which cannot be found in any other book. Stewart rushes to Peter and tells him that Professor William cancelled the Quidditch for Slytherin this year as there is no competent player as per him.

Peter’s first day at Hogwarts began in a hurry and showed no signs of slowing down.

He, Stewart, and Alison reached Charms just before Professor Feline closed the door. Peter was still catching his breath when he had to unpack his books, find his wand, and work out what everyone else was doing.

Alison leaned towards him.

“What page?”

Peter glanced at Stewart. Stewart glanced at Alison.

By the end of the lesson, Peter’s wrist ached, Stewart had dropped his wand twice, and Alison was still waving hers at a feather that refused to move.

There was no time to try again. Potions was downstairs.

They hurried through the corridors, took a wrong turn, and arrived in Miss January’s classroom just as she began giving instructions. Peter scrambled to arrange his ingredients while Stewart searched his bag for a quill.

“Three spoonfuls?” Alison whispered.

“One,” Peter replied.

Alison looked down at her cauldron.

“Oh.”

By the end of Potions, Peter’s sleeves were stained, Stewart’s notes had something sticky on them, and Alison was trying to persuade Miss January that the extra spoonfuls had been very small.

History of Magic was next. Upstairs again.

They reached Professor Harington’s classroom with aching legs and barely enough breath to apologise. Peter sat down, opened his book, and tried to follow the lesson.

Soon, the names and dates began running into one another. Beside him, Stewart had stopped halfway through a sentence. Alison was copying notes from the board.

Peter leaned over to look.

“That’s yesterday’s date.”

“I know. I’m waiting for him to write something easier.”

Peter rubbed his eyes.

It wasn’t even lunchtime.