Chapter 9: potions with snape

The door to the classroom slammed open and Professor Snape stalked into the potions lab, his robes flaring dramatically as he made his way to the front of the classroom. Turning round, he stared at the students with an expression of disdain on his face.

""You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making." He began without preamble. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…

"I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

For a long moment, everyone was silent as Snape sneered at their expressions, then he turned slightly, his gaze fixing on Harry.

"Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of Asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry blinked, mentally thanking his (apparently) non-human ancestry as he pulled up the requested memory.

"I believe that would be the first stage of the potion known as the Draught of Living Death, sir."

Snape blinked.

"Well, it would seem that unlike your father, you did actually open a book before attending class. Very well, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but I must ask for clarification." Harry said calmly.

"Clarification?" Snape repeated in a cold voice.

"If you mean immediately, I would look in my potions kit as I know I have three there since they are a sovereign remedy for most poisons." Harry explained. "Failing that, I would ask permission to access your supply cupboard. As a Potions Master, you have a keen understanding of the dangers of mis-brewed potions, so you would undoubtedly have a supply ready to hand so that you would not need to spend time brewing specific antidotes.

"If, however, you mean where would I acquire one from, that would be the Apothecary but if you meant where are bezoars sourced from, they are stones taken from the stomachs of a certain breed of magical goat. I believe that Aberforth Dumbledore has a small herd at the Hog's Head Inn, but I do not think he would look kindly on people trying to cut open their stomachs."

Snape gave him a long, considering look.

"A… tolerable answer and yes, he does indeed supply bezoars to Hogwarts. Very well, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Harry frowned in concentration. "That would be the preparation, sir. The leaves are taken from the plant aconite and to produce monkshood, the leaves are dried out and ground to powder while wolfsbane is produced via pickling."

Snape gave him another long look.

"It would seem that the Hat chose the correct house for you after all, although considering your parentage, I expected you to go into Gryffindor."

"Sir…" Harry said slowly, "I don't know that much about my parents, but Professor Flitwick said that you knew my mother. If it is not too much trouble, can I ask you to tell me about her sometime?"

Snape's expression went blank for a long moment.

"That can wait." He finally said, then he turned and pulled out his wand, using it to tap the blackboard that stretched most of the way across the front of the classroom, causing words to appear on it as if being wiped into existence.

"Here are the instructions for the Boil-curing potion." He growled. "You will pair up for this."

Harry glanced at Neville and saw him looking nervous, so he surreptitiously motioned for Hermione to partner with him, then looked around for someone to team up with.

"Potter, you're with Mr Malfoy." Snape stated and Harry looked at the smirking Slytherin.

"Potter."

"Malfoy." Harry returned, hiding his annoyance. "Do you want to set up the cauldron or collect the ingredients?"

.

"Mr Potter, remain behind." Snape barked from behind his desk and Harry lifted a mental eyebrow at how Snape hadn't simply barked out his surname like a curse. "Everyone else, go."

Harry finished tidying up the bench (especially the parts that Malfoy had taken great delight in messing up) as the other students filed out. Snape remained silent as Harry finished cleaning the bench, then he pointed to the chair near his desk.

"Sit."

Harry moved to the chair and sat down while Snape steepled his fingers.

"You really know nothing about your mother?"

"Only what Professor Flitwick has told me and what I have read from her journal." Harry admitted. "I'm about halfway through her first journal which covers her first year here… if she hated James Potter so much, how did she end up with him? I mean, from what I've read so far, you and her were a far more likely pairing."

Snape winced slightly. "Yes, we were close friends before we attended Hogwarts. I was the one who introduced her to the Magical World and we retained our friendship even though I was Sorted into Slytherin and she became a Gryffindor. Or rather, we stayed friends until I fell in with a bad crowd and during our fifth year, in a fit of temper, I used a word that I have regretted ever since."

Harry kept silent for a long moment as Snape stared at something that only he could see, then the Professor snapped his gaze back to him.

"You said you knew nothing of your mother before Flitwick met you. So, why not?"

"Aunt Petunia refused to…" Harry said before Severus slammed his palms on the desk.

"You were sent to her?"

Harry stared in shock for a moment, then nodded. "Mum's journal said you and Petunia didn't get on…"

"Your mother… understated it." Snape said, recovering his poise. "Petunia and I detested each other. Why would Dumbledore send you to her of all people?"

"Apparently, Blood Wards." Harry said with a shrug. "It wasn't that bad, we had an understanding. I ignored them as much as possible and they returned the favor."

"That's… not what I would have expected from her." Snape finally admitted. "You have given me much to consider. You may leave."

Harry nodded and rose from the chair. Picking up his bag, he walked to the door and then paused as Snape spoke again.

"I… have some pictures of Lily which I will have copied for you. You have her eyes. Once you finish reading her first Journal…?"

Harry nodded and Snape's lips twitched in what might have been an abortive smile.

"You may go."

.

"You okay?" Neville asked as Harry joined them in the Great Hall.

"Yes…?" Harry replied with a bemused air. "Why shouldn't I be?"

"It's… Snape." Neville half-whispered. "I've heard all sorts of stories about him at the Balls and Galas that Gran took me to…"

"Make sure you read ahead and you should be fine." Harry smiled reassuringly. "Professor Snape just needed to check something. It's sorted now. Looking forwards to our next lesson?"

Neville grinned and pulled his wand out of his wrist-holster. Lifting it up, he grinned widely.

"Incredible, isn't it? Cherry with a unicorn hair core and thirteen inches… Ollivander was scathing towards Gran and Professor Flitwick was smirking at her. I can't wait to actually do some real magic."

"You did seem rather excited when you got back, last night." Harry admitted. "Tired, though."

"Flitwick had me run through some exercises in the infirmary to check that using my dad's wand hadn't damaged my magic at all." Neville supplied while opposite them, Hermione had abandoned her book and was listening intently. "Apparently there was no strain showing at all, although that could have changed had I used it for a year or more."

"I'm sure that Professor Flitwick'll be eager to see how well you do." Hermione supplied as she looked at the wand Neville was holding. "Do you really keep that in your sleeve? Is there a special pocket or something?"

Neville pulled his sleeve slightly down to reveal the top of his wrist holster, as did Harry and Hermione's eyes lit up.

"Wand holsters?"

At the boys nods, Hermione pulled out a piece of paper and a quill. "Okay, now I know what to ask my parents for when it comes to christmas presents."

Neville flexed his fingers and the small summoning charm in his holster triggered, pulling the wand into the dragon-hide sleeve and holding it securely.

"Wow." Hermione breathed. "So that's how Harry and Professor Flitwick do it!"

.

.

"Our first lesson of Transfiguration!" Hermione bubbled as they filed into the classroom, then she looked around curiously. "Odd, I thought Professor McGonogall would be waiting…"

From the desk at the front of the classroom, a cat gave them a long glance.

"Maybe we should find a seat?" Neville offered, one hand stroking his holster as he grinned over the memories of the Charms lesson that had just finished, a lesson in which he had proven that he was most definitely not a borderline-Squib.

Hermione bustled over to a wide desk with three chairs and sat down almost regally in the center chair, allowing Harry and Neville to sit down flanking her, exchanging amused smiles as they did so. As the other students filed in, Harry pulled out his Transfiguration textbook, a notebook and a biro, causing Hermione to face-palm.

"Why didn't I think of that." she groaned, looking at the muggle implements on the desk. "Notebook and pen… urgh."

Neville looked across from where he had setting up his scroll for taking notes. "That looks very useful, where did you get it?"

"W. H. Smiths." Harry replied and Neville looked at him blankly. "It's a muggle shop specializing mainly in stationary and things to do with studying."

"Muggle, so I can't owl-order some for myself." Neville sighed, then his gaze drifted to the front where the cat was standing up. It looked at them, then leapt off the desk, expanding and changing as it did so until a bare half-second later, Minerva McGonogall was stood at the front of the classroom.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts." She stated. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

She punctuated her statement by waving her wand at her desk, turning it into a giant pig and then back again, garnering a ripple of applause from several students, including Hermione.

McGonogall waited for the applause to die down before continuing. "While most other types of magic are performed primarily by incantations and wand movements, Transfiguration is performed through visualization and willpower and it will be several years before you are ready to perform the spells that create living beings…"

As McGonogall continued, Harry started scribbling notes, an action quickly duplicated by his tablemates.

After a quarter of an hour of expounding on the intricacies, dangers and basic rules of transfiguration, McGonogall started to pace around the room, placing a matchstick in front of each student. Returning to the front, she held up a final matchstick and waved her wand at it, turning it into a needle.

"You will need to concentrate for this." She stated. "Turn the match in front of you into a needle. Begin."

Harry and Neville triggered their holsters, their wands seeming to appear in their hands as Hermione reached into her robe pocket, giving her companions an envious glance.

"Remember to concentrate." McGonogall said and Harry frowned as he looked at the match. Hermione started to mutter under her breath and Harry hid a smirk as he heard her try "Hctam nrut otni eldeen!"

"Non-verbal, Hermione." He said just loud enough for her to hear. "Remember what McGonogall said, focus on what you want to happen, push your magic into the object and then force it to change."

Neville lifted his wand and looked at his match which had taken on a silvery sheen.

"Not bad, Neville." Harry congratulated him. "How did you do that?"

"Well, I thought doing it all at once was too hard, so I decided to try to change it into metal first, then reshape it." Neville admitted, causing Hermione to turn back to her match with renewed determination.