The Potions Master

If Ron's first day at Hogwarts was 'eventful' his next week was pure and utter chaos. The castle was beyond confusing, with shifting staircases, doors that locked themselves and paintings that would mock you if you looked lost. The first few days were spent getting settled, without any time for money-making.

Then, there were family matters. He'd been targeted by a bevy of pranks from the twins. Exploding pies, farting chairs and dungbombs became expected; and Ron developed a keen vigilance in these days. Percy had swung the other way, ignoring him entirely. He'd also received four owls, from Molly, Arthur, Charlie and Bill respectively.

Bill's owl had been the most positive, reassuring him that there were pleasant Slytherins out there. Charlie had been less optimistic, but still positive. Arthur had been very neutral, though he cautioned Ron against bullies. Then there was Molly…

Looking at the smouldering ashes of her howler, Ron was still a little afraid. To say she was 'displeased' would be putting it far, far too lightly. She'd been fuming. Apparently, she'd even owled Dumbledore, asking for him to be re-sorted or even pulled from Hogwarts and put back in next year. Since she hadn't come to drag him out yet, he could only assume Dumbledore refused.

Honestly, his family were being a bunch of hypocrites. They claimed to 'accept all people', but weren't Slytherins people too? If they were going to cut him off, he'd do the same to them.

Fortunately, he'd made a few friends in Slytherin after knocking Draco on his ass. Anyone who wasn't in Draco's crowd basically hung with him, including Blaise, who quickly became his closest friend. Of course, they were all cocky little shits, but that was quite alright with Ron.

As far as school, Ron had been doing better than he'd hoped, winning a few points for Slytherin in several classes. Defence Against the Dark Arts was a little scary, especially with what he knew was under Quirrell's turban. But he just kept reminding himself that Voldemort didn't care about an insignificant first year like him.

He hadn't seen much of Hermione, Harry or Neville except at the Great Hall, but he could imagine what they thought. If they were getting half the anti-Slytherin brainwashing Ron had gotten his entire childhood, they probably thought he was the devil incarnate.

Eventually, Friday rolled around, and it was time for Potions, his first class with the Gryffindors. Walking in with Blaise by his side, Ron found that they were the last to arrive, with most of the class occupied.

Finding some seats, Ron saw Hermione and Neville sitting together, with Harry a few seats over next to Seamus and Dean.

Ron was about to go speak with them, but then Snape's office door flew open, and the Potions Master strode out. Like all teachers, Snape started with roll call, zipping past most names, but lingering at a few, most notable Harry's, but also Neville's, Draco's and Ron's.

"In this class there will be no foolish wand-waving…" He started his famous speech.

Ron couldn't remember how many times he'd heard it, in video games and movies alike, but in person it hit different. Bottling fame, brewing glory, stoppering death… Who wouldn't want those things? Snape might be an asshole, but he was a wicked wordsmith. It took all his willpower to keep from jamming all his points into Potions right then and there.

Of course, he understood this was all at a level beyond what he could currently attain. He was curious what level Snape had attained in Potions. Surely it wasn't just one level above Blue. Was it two levels above? Or three? How many thousands of galleons would Ron need to reach that level?

Soon, Snape ended his speech and immediately whipped around to Harry.

"Potter! Tell me what I would get if I added powdered root of asphodel into an infusion of wormwood?"

'The Draught of the Living Death.' Ron thought instantly, recalling canon.

But Harry had no such advantage. Floundering to answer it, Snape quickly snapped with another question, this one on Bezoars. When Harry failed at that, he went for a final question on Monkshood and Wolfsbane.

Ron almost felt bad for Harry at the end. Most of these were only in the most obscure footnotes of the textbook. Only a lunatic would read so closely.

Then Ron looked at Hermione, who's hand was waving so eagerly you'd think her bladder was about to explode. There was that lunatic.

But Snape didn't call on her. Instead, he wheeled around at Ron.

"Weasley, you answer the questions, since Potter is clearly too moronic to do it!" Snape snapped at him.

Ron was floored. This wasn't in the script!

"What, haven't opened your books Weasley? Or were you too busy panhandling for knuts so you could buy those robes?" Draco mocked.

These words snapped Ron out of his daze as Crabbe and Goyle snickered. That struck a nerve

"Asphodel and wormwood, when combined with sloth brain and sopophorous bean make the Draught of the Living Dead, a powerful sleeping potion. A Bezoar comes from the stomach of a goat, effective against all poisons except asphyxiating poison, since you can't swallow it. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they're the same plant, aconite."

A look of surprise flashed across Snape's eyes. Catching his eyes for a fraction of an instant, Ron felt as though they grew infinitely deeper. It was a subtle feeling, but he had a good idea of what it was. Legilimency.

Ron immediately looked down, pretending to note something down.

"Well! What are you all doing then? Note down what Weasley's just said! Five points to Slytherin for Weasley and two away from Gryffindor for Potter's unpreparedness."

The class quickly got to writing, with the Gryffindors throwing Ron a dirty look. All except Hermione, who seemed a little surprised. The extra information about sopophorus beans and sloth brains wasn't in the textbook, coming from his video game knowledge.

After the question-and-answer session, Snape had everyone pair off and assigned them to make a Cure for Boils. Having grinded this skill quite a bit already, Ron was quite prepared for this. He was partnered with Blaise, who was also a skilled Potioneer and they were the first to finish.

Snape praised their work, awarding another three points to Slytherin each, much to the Gryffindors' fury. Ron grinned. Snape's favouritism felt much better from the other side.

But as he was drinking in these feelings, Ron heard a high shriek as clouds of acid green smoke filled the dungeon. Snapping around to look, he found that it was Hermione and Neville, backing away as their potion burned through the bottom of their cauldron.

"Neville! I told you to wait for me take off the fire before putting the porcupine quills in!" Hermione hissed angrily. "Oh, this is bad… this is very bad."

"Very bad indeed, Miss Granger." Snape said coldly, appearing behind the duo.

With a flick of his wand, he vanished the green puddle, before looking viciously at Hermione and Neville.

"I think three Points off Gryffindor should suffice…" Snape started.

"Oh no." Hermione gasped.

"Each." He finished with a wicked grin.

Then, he punished them to copy down the instructions until the class was over. Suddenly, Ron felt a little guilty about basking in the favouritism. 

Still the favouritism continued. Malfoy and Nott were rewarded four points for finishing second, while two were taken off Harry because his potion was 'too bubbly'. By the end of the class, Gryffindor was down ten points, while Slytherin was up fifteen.

"That's brilliant." Blaise said with a grin. "If we keep having Potions classes like that, the other houses won't stand a chance."

"Probably."

Outwardly, Ron was nodding, but on the inside, he was imagining Dumbledore with a troll face, saying '10,000 Points to Gryffindor'. He had little hopes of getting the cup this year. Maybe next year.

"Hey, can you head up by yourself? I think I left my quill back in class." Ron said.

Zipping back to Potions classroom, he saw Hermione and Neville, only just leaving after being berated by Snape for writing too few lines.

"Hey you guys." Ron called over with a grin.

"Hmph!" Hermione walked off defiantly.

Neville looked down following Hermione hastily.

"Come on, I thought we were friends. We got on great on the train. Who cares what some ratty old hat thinks?" Ron said, following behind them.

"So, we're friends now, are we? I didn't see you being so friendly when Snape was chewing us out." Hermione said accusatorially, quickening her pace.

"Well… you did kind of foul up." Ron said in a low voice.

"That's not the point! Any other teacher would have taken one or two points. Even on her worst day, McGonagall wouldn't take more than three points for a mistake. Snape took six!" She said in exasperation, running even faster.

"Well, it's not like he loves me either!" Ron snapped. "Or did you miss the snide comments?"

"Oh, did he only give you six points instead of ten? How tragic!" Hermione mocked.

"Ah… guys… could… you… slow… down…"

Hermione and Ron snapped their heads around, seeing Neville, two staircases behind them, stuck in a trick step as he panted his lungs out. Turning back immediately, they helped him out as he keeled over as though he was about to vomit.

Then, they stepped into an empty classroom nearby, letting Neville have a seat, while Hermione continued to berate Ron.

"You know, I've been reading about Slytherin. There are three things every Slytherin ought to value: cunning, ambition and blood-purity. If you've got anything to say about that last one, you can leave right now." Hermione ordered.

Ron stayed.

"Listen, I've got nothing against muggles or muggleborns. Hell, I think wizards could learn a little from them about a decent currency system."—Hermione gave a slight smile—"The only reason I was coming over was that I saw your cauldron was banged up and I was offering to fix it. I'm pretty handy with my charms you know."

Hermione frowned, retrieving the cauldron, which had an inch-wide hole in the bottom.

"You should give up on that." She said with a shake of her head. "There's too much pewter missing for it to be of any use. I'll have to owl mum for another one. I just hope it arrives in time."

"Don't worry about that, just hand it to me, and I'll get it fixed up right quick." Ron said, taking the damaged cauldron.

Hermione looked at him sceptically.

"Alright, if you want to waste your time, go ahead." She threw up her arms. "Come on Neville, we're going to be practicing that potion again."

Then, Hermione dragged off Neville, who looked as though he'd rather still be stuck in the step. Meanwhile, Ron smiled. It was time for business to begin.