AN: English is not my mother language, so please excuse any language mistakes. You're welcome to correct me!
Chapter I: Approach
Normally I was never nervous before entering a class. I was one of the best students in my year, so not even an examination could really upset me, although I was taking them seriously. However, this was only normally. It was true for every subject except for one – Potions.
It was not that I didn't like Potions, on the contrary! It fascinated me. And it was a challenge. Like in most of the other subjects, I was top of the class. However, there was a great difference. In spite of receiving better results in potion-making than any of the others, I was not satisfied with my work, nor seemed our teacher – Professor Snape. He was not satisfied with anyone and it was hard to imagine that he had ever been or would ever be.
I am quite sure that almost every single student at Hogwarts thought of Potions as his least favourite subject and the main reason probably was Professor Snape. Potions was an especially difficult subject anyway, but it didn't help much that he didn't seem to believe in any of us. Moreover he was rather intimidating.
Every time he slowly walked through the rows while we were struggling with the task he had set us, he would look into every cauldron and his black eyes would narrow in disgust and he would turn away in one of his abrupt movements which made some strands of his hair fly with the jerk. At the sight of some especially feeble attempts a sneer would curl his lips and whenever someone even managed to make his cauldron melt, spill Potion onto the floor or cause an explosion, he would glare at this unlucky person and scold him in his most dangerously quiet sort of voice.
Fortunately, I was never one of those people. I was extremely careful to do everything right, but to my utter annoyance my potions were never flawless by comparison with how they should look and smell like according to the book. At first, after one of my better tries, I had watched Professor Snape's expression closely, hoping for an approving glace or a compliment as I was used to get from every other teacher, not to mention all the points I had already earned. However, I had soon given up on those hopes. The best I could get was an emotionless mask. It was depressing.
Sometimes, I wondered what Professor Snape was expecting from us. That we were all born with the ability and instinct to brew every potion perfectly? Apparently he himself was blessed with those qualities – and that was why I respected him.
In contrast to everybody else, I was not making hateful and rather vulgar remarks about him in the common room. I didn't approve of his teaching methods either and I held my breath every time he came close to me, yes, but at the same time I was fascinated by him. He didn't love his students, but I could tell that he did love his subject. And sometimes I was really sad about this. He seemed a genius to me, but he apparently thought his students useless and probably he also knew that they hated him. Because of this, he didn't try hard to teach them how to do it properly. And this, I thought, was such a waste.
Gradually, I became obsessed by the wish to discover the secrets of Potion making. I hung on his every word, but his explanations were rare and vague, which was frustrating as I could tell that there was far more behind them he could have shared with us.
*
One day, in yet another period of tension in the gloomy dungeon classroom, we were supposed to brew an Anti-Dizziness Potion. All the instructions had appeared on the blackboard after a tap of Snape's wand, so – theoretically – you just had to follow them. However, in the end of the lesson not a single cauldron was filled with the clear, colourless liquid, which could have been mistaken for water without its bitter odour. I was rather satisfied with the smell of my potion, but it was slightly murky and had a greenish shade. Stirring didn't help and I had neither an idea why it hadn't become clear, nor what I could do about it.
I didn't want to bother Angela, who was sitting next to me, with this problem as she was busy trying not to inhale too much of the orange smoke her cauldron was emitting.
'What is this?' a deep, cold voice demanded from behind us. Professor Snape had approached unnoticed and pointed at Angela's bowl which contained a light pink powder.
Angela gave a start.
'Crushed Avendus blooms, sir,' she answered shyly.
'And what did I tell you about them?'
Angela seemed to shrink under Snape's glare and said nothing. Snape waited for a few seconds, and then he said, 'I told you that only the white blooms of the Avendus can be used in combination with the Icicleweed roots.'
Angela bit her lip.
'Ten points from Ravenclaw. You'll pay attention next time or it will be detention,' Snape went on in a dangerous tone. 'And now you'll get rid of this mess before the first students start fainting.'
With an angry expression, Angela drew her wand and mumbled, 'Evanesco!'
Once her potion and with it the orange smoke had disappeared, the smell of my own potion became more perceptible. Snape stepped forward to have a look into my cauldron with the hint of curiosity, but when he saw my murky liquid, a small frown formed between his eyebrows.
'Have you finished, Miss Layner?' he asked.
'I think so, sir,' I answered nervously.
'Pity,' said Snape and noted down an 'A'. I was disappointed. I had hoped to receive an 'E' for my correct odour, and after all, my potion looked the best compared to all other potions in my field of view.
Professor Snape went on, his cloak swaying behind him.
A few minutes later, he set us an essay about the Mornfey Potion we were to brew next lesson as homework and told us to clean up. The students hurried to do so in order to spend not one second more than necessary in the dungeons and within Snape's uncomfortable presence. I, however, stayed behind and slowly went to the front. Snape was bent over his bag when I stopped in front of his desk, and I waited patiently. Finally, he looked up and noticed me.
'What do you want?' he asked indifferently. He sounded as though he already knew the answer.
'It's about my potion, sir,' I said politely, trying not to sound too shy. I didn't want him to think that I believed him to be a nasty person who would shout at me if I dared to ask a question. 'I was just wondering whether you could tell me why it didn't turn clear as water in the end.'
Snape considered me for a moment, and to be honest, I was quite relieved that he didn't shout at me.
'You added too much pus,' he said simply. I was taken aback. I had measured all ingredients with so much care that I was sure I had done nothing wrong. I thought frantically how to put my objection as polite as possible.
'But… I took seven ounces, sir. That was correct, wasn't it?'
'It was,' Snape agreed. 'But you must be accurate to the drop with this potion. The pus alone is toxic. If someone had drunk your potion, he would have suffered from a headache afterwards. The ratio between the pus and the flower venom must be exact.'
'Are they one of the Fisher pairs you mentioned a few weeks ago, sir?' I asked eagerly. There was a tiny trace of surprise on Snape's otherwise emotionless face. Apparently he had not expected anyone to remember and I was encouraged to go on. 'Two noxious ingredients which have a positive effect when used together because they extinguish each others harmfulness and release a new substance?'
'Indeed,' Snape confirmed slowly.
'But how do you manage to get the ratio that exact, sir?'
'You have to correct the inaccuracy in the end until the liquid is completely colourless. You have to do it drop by drop. If the potion is greenish – like yours – you must add more flower venom, if it is yellowish, more pus is necessary.'
'I see. Thank you very much, sir. Um, may I ask one more question?' Snape gave me a slight nod and I went on, 'How do I know if I am dealing with a Fisher pair or not?'
Snape sneered and said, 'This is mush deeper in the subject than the level of anyone in this class.'
This comment made me even more interested and I looked at him hopefully. However, he turned back to his bag and let it shrink until it fitted into the inside pocket of his robes. When he saw that I hadn't moved an inch, he said, 'This is nothing I could teach you within a few minutes. I'm going to have lunch now.'
There was too much finality in his voice for me to dare say anything further.
*
During my afternoon lessons my thoughts kept drifting to the conversation with Professor Snape, and directly afterwards I hurried to the library in order to look for information on Fisher pairs. After almost an hour, the only additional information I had found was: 'Each pair is composed of a gelidus toxin and a fervidus toxin.' I couldn't make much out of this though.
Slightly disappointed, I switched my attention to homework. It was Tuesday and the next double Potions wouldn't be until Friday, so Snape's essay did not have top priority yet. But when I came to think about it, we only had to practice a spell for Charms, which I had already managed in classes, for the next day. Then there was a chapter to be read for Herbology which was due on the day after next and the rest was only for Friday like Potions. As I had already worked over the whole Herbology book during the last holidays, I only had to refresh my memory by reading my notes. This was quickly done and before five o'clock I was ready to start with my essay about the Mornfey Potion.
I was willing to spend the rest of the day on it if necessary. I wanted it to be the very best I could do. I needed Snape in a good mood as I was determined to find out more about Fisher pairs.
'This is nothing I could teach you within a few minutes.'
But he hadn't said it was nothing he could teach me at all, had he?
Three hours later I had collected all information I could get and structured my notes. After dinner I made myself comfortable in the common room and dictated my essay to my quill in a low voice. In the end I had filled about forty inches of parchment. It probably was the longest essay I had ever written and I was satisfied. I had already lifted the spell off my quill when I hesitated. I picked up the quill again, my hand trembling slightly. I thought it over once more. I really wanted Snape to teach me – properly. But I was too intimidated by him and was quite sure that I would not have the courage to ask him. Anyway, was there a probability at all that he would agree? But I had to try or I would never rest and if I was too much of a coward to ask him directly, there was no other way but to write to him.
I took a deep breath and added a paragraph under my essay.
Dear Professor Snape,
I wasn't able to find out what gelidus and fervidus toxins are and I was wondering whether you could help me there. I would be really thankful if you could teach me a bit of your knowledge as I see it as a great chance. But of course I will understand if you have more important things to do.
Elena Layner
That was it. Like this he would be able to just ignore it if I annoyed him. Now I could do nothing but wait for Friday.
*
I was sitting behind my cauldron, nervous as ever, my parchment on the table in front of me.
'I hope you have done your homework more properly than last time so that we will have, for once, no T-potion in the end,' Snape said scornfully, summoning all the essays with a wave of his wand.
As I had hoped, Professor Snape read them while we were brewing our potions. I was of course very well prepared, but I found it hard to concentrate and I shot a glance in Snape's direction every now and then. Finally I spotted my unmistakably long roll of parchment in his hands. Fortunately I was just at the step 'Leave it over the fire fore seven minutes' and had time to watch him discreetly. But as always, his thoughts stayed a secret. I noticed just in time that he was about to look up from the parchment – and probably in my direction – to fix my eyes upon my potion.
At least he hadn't looked angry.
I didn't dare look in Snape's direction for the rest of the lesson and put all my efforts into my potion. I did notice, however, that he seemingly inadvertently skipped my row when taking his usual stroll along the cauldrons. What could that mean? I found it rather disturbing and was perfectly sure that it was not inadvertently at all.
Near the end of the lesson the essays were distributed by magic. I unrolled my parchment eagerly and inspected the bottom. There was just a single 'E' written in neat handwriting. I tried to convince myself that I was not disappointed, because as far as I knew nobody had ever received an O from Snape. But I could not deny that I was disappointed at the lack of any comment on my additional note.
When the bell had rung, I dawdled over my cleaning up in order to give Snape the chance to talk to me if he wanted to. Finally Angela was the last one who left the dungeon after I had convinced her to go on as I allegedly wanted to return a book to the library anyway.
After the door had closed behind her, it was perfectly quiet in the classroom, except for the rustling I made while stuffing my Potions book carefully into my bag. I already wondered whether Snape had left without me having noticed – as I was still avoiding looking in his direction – when footsteps were finally approaching me. I closed the buckle of my bag with slightly sweaty fingers and it was only when the footsteps stopped in front of my table that I looked up at last.
Snape's face was as unreadable as ever and I tried not to give anything away with my expression either, although I probably didn't manage nearly as good as he did. He scrutinized me for a moment before he finally spoke.
'I have read your note.'
I waited.
'Do you intend to enter a profession which concerns Potions, Miss Layner?'
'I could imagine that very well, sir,' I answered at once, hope growing inside me.
'Then you will still have to learn very much, but at least you seem to have more potential than the… rest of you.' He put a lot of disapproval into the last three words and made another pause in which I held my breath expectantly. His tone became some degrees sterner when he continued, 'You may come to my office tomorrow night at six pm, but let me make one point very clear. I will not waste my time if you don't work hard. If I give you additional lessons, I expect you to take them very seriously and show improvement. Do you understand?'
'Yes, sir,' I said quickly, rather intimidated by the glare of his black eyes, boring into mine. 'I will do my best.'
'Tomorrow night, six pm,' Professor Snape repeated and with these words he returned to his desk before I could even say thanks.
*
It took me a long time to fall asleep that night. I felt euphoric at my triumph, but at the same time I was afraid. The last words Snape had said to me had made me aware what I had embarked on. Private lessons with Snape would be no coffee morning. He had warned me. I would have to do my best, so I'd better start immediately. The next day before the meeting I would revise everything I had ever learned in Potions. I would prepare myself as good as possible. I would not let him regret having agreed to teach me.
