The rest of the morning passed without any serious incident, and while Sophronia was beside herself with excitement, it could hardly be counted as an exceptional first morning. Transfiguration class passed with only the usual few stragglers filtering in late to their first class at a new school, then break was spent sitting on the steps in the courtyard, listening to a couple older Hufflepuff students who felt the need to impart some garnered wisdom on the First Years. Unfortunately, this meant Sophronia didn’t get to wander around exploring as she would have liked, but perhaps that was for the better. In herbology, Sophronia decided she rather liked the stout Professor Sprout with her warm grin and frizzy grey hair. There was something comforting about her.

When lunchtime came, Sophronia grabbed Gwen’s hand and dashed towards the Great Hall, a couple other of the Gryffindors not far behind. As soon as she stepped through the doors, she immediately spotted Hermione already taking a seat at the table, deep in discussion with Harry and Ron. Her bushy hair was clipped back, accentuating her serious frown at whatever her two friends were saying; she had been stirring her soup for five minutes without realizing it.

“This way!” Sophronia encouraged and took off running. When she reached Hermione, she threw her arms around her sister’s shoulders and cried, “Hermione!”

“Hold on, Sophronia,” Hermione replied, waving her hand to dismiss her. Not turning her eyes from Harry, she continued their conversation, insisting, “It was probably a stray.”

“Hermione... if Harry’s seen a Grim... that’s not good. My uncle Bilius saw one and died only twenty-four hours later...”

“Uncle Bilius! That’s who you’re named after,” Sophronia remembered, taking the seat beside Hermione, followed by loyal Gwen. Leo and another boy, Asher, sat across from them.

“Coincidence,” Hermione insisted to Ron, waving one hand in the air as she pushed a bowl of stew towards Sophronia. “Chance.”

Sophronia rolled her eyes and whispered to Leo and Gwen, “Third year problems. It’s all drama.” Gwen nodded somberly, as if what Sophronia had just said made any sense. This silly Granger girl always spoke with such conviction that it was hard to question anything she said. Sophronia listened as Asher and Leo snickered about something the First Year Gryffindor boys had done the night before and was just about to ask if they had actually ever gone to bed when Hermione suddenly slammed a book down, sending her stew flying everyone -- particularly all over Sophronia’s robes as perfectly as though she had aimed.

The First Years gaped as she stood and yelled at Ron, “If being good at divination means I’m stupid enough to pretend I can see death omens in tea leaves, I’m not going to waste my time in such pointless studies. It’s absolute rubbish compared to my Arithmancy class!” She then turned and stomped off from the Great Hall.

Sophronia glanced between Hermione’s retreating back and Ron’s surprised face, then sighed, “Now you’ve done it.” She jumped up and hurried after her sister.

Hermione stomped clear out the front doors of the castle and Sophronia dutifully followed, her small feet flying beneath her ropes to catch up. It wasn’t until they reached the courtyard that Hermione stopped and Sophronia collapsed beside her on the stone steps.

“I’m sure the class is rubbish,” Sophronia assured her after a few silent moments during which Hermione stared off through the stone arches into the distance. She could figure out through the few snippets of conversation heard what was upsetting her sister. When Hermione didn’t respond, she began again, “It has to be rubbish, Minnie, because if you can’t–“

”It is rubbish, Sophie.” Hermione’s gaze lingered a moment longer far away, then turned to the eager face beside her as she gave a small smile, “I don’t doubt you would be fantastic at it, though. All you have to do is make up stories.”

“You tell good stories sometimes, too,” Sophronia offered, taking Hermione’s hand. “It was just your first day, Hermione. It’ll get better. You’re probably just tired.” The absurdity of Sophronia being the one comforting Hermione was enough to make both smile; expectations decreed it should have been the other way around.

“I know, I know. Thanks, Sophronia. Now what class do you have?”

“Defense against the Dark Arts with Professor Lupin! I have to go get Gwen and Leo and Asher first, though.”

“Oh? Look at you, already making friends and everything . . .” Though Hermione was still not ready to forgive Ron, she could at least momentarily push her frustration to the back of her mind to feel genuine relief that Sophronia’s first day seemed to be going smoothly. No loud explosions had been heard; her uniform was still in good condition; she seemed cheerful and well-adjusted, particularly if she already had several friends. Taking Sophronia’s hand, she walked with her sister to retrieve her friends from the Great Hall, then kindly escorted the four First Years to the proper classroom, found after a rather lengthy walk through twisting and claustrophobic hallways.

It was a pleasure to see Professor Lupin again, and Sophronia gleefully perched in the front row, looking every bit the proper student she wasn’t. It was easy to stay interested, though; Lupin seemed more than mindful of the short attention spans of his students and kept the information rolling. However, no matter how interesting the class was, Sophronia felt a swell of joy when the students were dismissed with nothing further to do for the rest of the day.

“Hey, Gwen, d’ya want to come exploring with me?” Sophronai asked, tossing her books onto the floor beside her nightstand and darting back to the door as though it would lock her in upon shutting.

“I guess. I–“

”You don’t have to, but what else are you going to do? Come on!” When Sophronia held out her hand, Gwen felt completely incapable of not slipping hers into it and following the noisy girl down the stairs.

Sophronia had no clear idea in mind where they were going, and so she simply took a left and set out, going down a few flights of stairs and then moving inwards through the corridors. Gwen dawdled, stopping here and there to admire statues or paintings, bobbing her head shyly to the greetings sent her way by wigged men with ruffled collars, elegant women in floor-length ballgowns, and, her favorite: faceless knights buried beneath glistening armor. Sophronia had little attention for the paintings, though a few momentarily mesmerized her, usually of animals rather than people. Tucked away in some dark corner, a gold-embossed frame housed a small brown dragon that Sophronia squinted at for some time. When she reached out to touch his scales, though, which sparkled under the dim torchlight from across the hall, the dragon coughed a small flame at her, just enough to startle her.

“I wish we would find a real dragon,” Sophronia sighed, jumping when Gwen slipped her arm through her friends as they walked. The corridors were getting darker and narrower; no windows provided even the faintest glimpse of sunlight, and Sophronia found her mind being fooled into thinking it was night time. Her movements became slower and calmer, though this was necessary anyways as the torches became fewer and further between.

“Sophronia . . . Sophronia, I don’t like this at all,” Gwen whispered, as though danger itself was breathing down their necks. “Let’s go back.”

At first Sophronia shook her head, insisting they continue. When the corridor became only wide enough for them to walk through single file, she continued on, fingers running along the walls on either side of her, Gwen holding onto the back of her jumper.

“Sophronia . . .”

“Just a little further, Gwen, please?” Sophronia begged. However, a few more steps and even Sophronia was forced to admit that this was no good. Even if they stumbled upon something great, she wouldn’t be able to see it! Just as she was going to recommend they turn around, a sudden crash up ahead made her and Gwen both freeze.

“What was that?” Gwen breathed, her eyes widening as Sophronia’s narrowed suspiciously. Both leaned forward in the darkness, until a sudden grating sound behind them of stone against stone made them spin.

“Let’s go back,” Sophronia suggested, trying to keep her voice even as her own anxieties began to seep up. When she tried to step forward, though, she ran straight into Gwen, whose breathing was getting heavier.

“Sophronia, there’s . . . there’s a wall there!” Gwen cried, nearly jumping out of her skin as Sophronia reached around to feel for herself. Sure enough, the corridor had closed up behind them.

“Don’t panic, Gwen,” Sophronia insisted, though it was really more for her own benefit. She felt her chest tightening as the last thin ribbon of light disappeared behind them, after which the stone scraping stone quit and they were left in absolute darkness and utter silence. “Don’t move. Let me see . . .” Sophronia ran her fingers along the wall, tracing their perimeters, and discovered with a gasp of fright they had only room for three steps along each wall. There were no doors, no windows.

“What do we do?” Gwen asked softly, her voice wavering with the trembling of her lip. She was quite scared of the dark, if the truth be told.

“I don’t kno– a torch! Here, watch,” Sophronia instructed, though Gwen had nothing to watch and just stared in the general direction of her friend’s voice. “Incindio!” A small spark erupted from the end of Sophronia’s wand, but the torch didn’t light. “Incindio!” Finally, on the third try, enough sparks shot out to ignite the torch, and their small prison was illuminated.

“How did you learn to do that?” Gwen gasped, accepting when Sophronia handed her the torch in order to tuck her wand back into the waistband of her skirt.

“I know a couple,” Sophronia bragged proudly. “But that’s my best one. Hermione used to– but right now, we need to get out of here. I’m getting hungry.”

The two, now with the aid of light, again perused the walls and floor, but they could find no doorway or window. Gwen felt panic beginning to rise again, but the light had restored Sophronia’s confidence. After all, they were in Hogwarts. There had to be some way out. Students weren’t just left to waste away in small stone cells.

“There’s only one thing left to do,” Sophronia sighed gravely, shaking her head so that her bows bobbed over her shoulders.

“What’s that?”

Hardly before the question was even asked, Sophronia opened her mouth and let out a blood-curdling shriek, “HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP!” Gwen hesitated, but when Sophronia motioned with her hands to join, their two shrill voices bounced off the stone walls and, hopefully, out into another corridor.

“HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE--”

“SOMEBODY COME GET US OUT OF HERE!!“

”–EEEEEEEELP!!”

”All right, fine! Just stop screaming, will ya?” a muffled voice demanded through the wall. Instantly Sophronia and Gwen both clamped their jaws shut and waited impatiently, expectantly. A moment later, several of the stones rolled away as they had done at the entrance to Diagon Alley, and a new but friendly face peeked through.

“All right in here?”

“No, we’re stuck!” Sophronia insisted, shaking her head at his stupidity. Clearly if everything was all right, they wouldn’t have been yelling like that.

“Calm down, s’all right. Come on out,” he encouraged, stepping away. Sophronia let Gwen go first, then scrambled through herself. Instantly the bricks rolled back behind them, and the two girls were left staring at a blank wall in a wider, much more lit corridor.

“Now then, what were you two doing all the way down here?”

“Where are we?”

“In the dungeons, in corridors you’d do better not to be wandering around in, for sure. Both First Years, right?”

Gwen nodded while Sophronia verbally answered, “Yes, we’re in Gryffindor. I’m Sophronia Granger and this is Gwen. Who are you?”

“Malachy O’Byrne, at your service,” he responded, shaking Sophronia’s hand with an amused grin.

“What house are you, though?”

“Ravenclaw.”

“What year?”

“Fifth.”

“What–“

”What’s with the third degree?” he laughed, shaking his head. “Come on, you two. As I said, you shouldn’t be down here, clearly, so let’s get you back up top . . .” Before they had taken even two steps, though, hurried footsteps clicked down the hall, and a moment later an imposing figure, black from head to toe except for pasty white skin, stomped into view.

“And what do we have here?” he demanded sharply, not even noticing Malachy. Sophronia and Gwen both looked at each other with utmost confusion. “Two First Years, it seems, Gryffindors by the looks of it. A bit far from home, aren’t we?” he pressed.

Hermione’s tales of Professor Snape had never been flattering. From what she told, he seemed a monster, a bully, an unfair teacher, and cruelly biased against anyone who was not one of his beloved Slytherin. While Sophronia’s instinct was to put her guard up, though, she recalled the explanation of House Points. How terrible would it be to get Gryffindor docked a House Point on her first day?

“We got lost,” she answered honestly.

“Lost, indeed. A spell was performed here; might you two know anything about that? Spells are not allowed in the corridors by First--“

”S’all right, Professor, what spells could they possibly know? It’s only their first day and all,” Malachy stepped in, smoothly gliding to the side of the girls. “But I’m taking ‘em back up top.”

“Ah. Mr. O’Byrne,” Professor Snape observed, physically straightening up a bit. Sophronia decided he must have been working extra hard to intimidate them; he seemed less frightening with Malachy in the picture. “Well. See that you do. And you two . . . I will see you in class.” Sophronia and Gwen watched his retreating back, then shared anxious looks; he didn’t seem too fond of them, and they hadn’t even set foot in his classroom yet!

“Eesh, is he always that creepy?” Sophronia asked as they fell into step on either side of Malachy.

He laughed, his head falling back to show the pinkness of his throat, “Yeah, always. You’d best avoid him, if you can. Nothing you can do will make him like you.”

“Well that’s rather prejudicial of him.”

Malachy gave her a strange look, so she quickly explained, “Hermione’s my big sister, and she uses big words a lot, so you kinda have to get used to it. I don’t always know what they mean, though.”

“Hermione . . . About yeh high, bushy hair?” Sophronia nodded and giggled. “Right, I think I know who that is. Potter’s friend, yeah?”

“Yep! But if you don’t mind, maybe don’t tell her about this, okay? She wouldn’t be too happy. I mean, what if you hadn’t come along? Me and Gwen might still be stuck in there . . .”

“Ah, I bet the room would have let you out eventually.”

“The room? But what was that?” Gwen finally spoke up, glancing around Malachy as though to make sure Sophronia approved of her speaking. Sophronia didn’t care whether she spoke or not, though; she wasn’t her mother.

“Oh, they’re wicked confusing. It’s kind of a labyrinth, except with corridors and rooms, and the dead ends are always shifting. I don’t know exactly how big or small it is – but you just wandered into one of the dead ends, and the new way hadn’t opened yet.”

“But how did you open it then?” Gwen continued.

“Well it’s always easy to see what way out from the outside, isn’t it?” It didn’t really answer their question, but they had reached the main entrance of the castle again. “It’s almost time for dinner. Are you two going straight to the Big Hall?”

“Gee, you sound like my sister,” Sophronia giggled. “She does that, but what she means is ‘Go to dinner instead of wandering off again.’”

“Well I think getting lost in the dungeons is probably enough exploring for one afternoon, don’t you think? If it makes you feel better as an explorer, I don’t think most of the students here know about that area of the castle. Slytherin students are really the only ones that don’t avoid the dungeons . . . Anyways, I think I’ll go get something to eat. It’s hard work, being a knight in shining armor, you know?”

Gwen and Sophronia both giggled and assured him he was their favorite knight, far better than the six-inch, two dimensional knights they had found in paintings earlier. As his back disappeared through the heavy doors to the Great Hall, Sophronia grabbed Gwen’s arm and gave her a quite serious look.

“Don’t tell anyone about the labyrinth, okay? Especially Hermione.”

“Okay, but after dinner can we go explore the library? I still haven’t been in there, and your sister made it sound really cool.”

“A library! Whatever you would want to go in there for? Well . . . I guess, if you promise to go up on the roof with my tonight when it gets dark. I want to see the stars!”

“Okay . . . but not past curfew!” Gwen insisted.

Sophronia, however, was already turning things over in her head, muttering something about, “Hermione mentioned once that Harry’s got this cloak . . .”