The Terrifying Truth of Elizabeth Slythe
"Potter, Harry." McGonagall said, her voice carrying through the Great Hall, heralding the beginning of a new era. The crowds grew silent as the small, shy boy stood before them. This was the savior of their world? He looked like a self-conscious bag of bones. Nothing heroic about him. Their faces seemed to fall as one as he stood there with the hat on his head. Minutes passed as the hall grew quieter and quieter. This was the turning point. Everyone knew what house he should be sorted into, however, no one knew if he would.
"Gryffindor!" the hat shouted into the stillness. The hall erupted into cheers from the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. The Ravenclaws were quite put out that he hadn't been sorted into their house. The Slytherins just plain hated him. Harry went to sit with his new house and sat next to the red headed boy, Ronald Weasley. They grinned at each other.
"Slythe, Elizabeth…?" Everyone drew quiet again as the girl walked onto the platform. She had long black hair, the tips of her tresses reaching past her knees. Her skirt was long and dragging the floor behind her as she walked. Her school shirt had been made with long sleeves and her jumper had been discarded to only be replaced with a burgundy blazer. Her face was pale through the long bangs that hid her eyes from view. Her mouth was turned down into a frown and she back was stiff and imposed the sense that she would be an absolute prude. Her hands were clenched in tight fists at her side as she sat on the bench, waiting to be sorted. The Sorting Hat was lowered toward her and as it reached about five inches from her head, the hat exploded in a loud voice.
"SLYTHERIN! SLYTHERIN!" the hall was silent. No one, not even the Headmaster, had seen the Sorting Hat sort a child without even being placed on their head. No one even thought it was possible.
Little Elizabeth moved away from the platform, her head held high, showing no emotion whatsoever at being sorted into the house where not a single one came out good and honest.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. 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 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, and even stopper death. If, of course, you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads like I usually have to teach."
Elizabeth was entranced. Not by the dark décor of the dungeon class room, not by the Boy Who Lived who sat just three seats from her, not buy the garish red locks of the boy beside her, and most certainly not by the head of regal blonde hair that was on her right. The entrancing speech of the Potions Master before her was one she would cherish. A pureblood she might not be by birth, but a witch she certainly was. And this witch was thoroughly bewitched, ensnared, and completely in love. She knew right then, she wanted to be a Potions Mistress.
Unfortunately, she was the only one who had actually smiled slightly at the speech. And unfortunately, the Potions Professor took her interest the wrong way.
"Although I highly doubt you will learn anything if you don't feel the need to pay attention, Miss Slythe." He said. Elizabeth sat up straighter and didn't take her eyes off the wall ahead of her. The intimidating professor stepped in front of her and she slowly raised her gaze to his.
Severus Snape was not an emotional man. He didn't show the few emotions he did feel. It took him years of practice and working for the Darkest of Lords for him to master the perfectly placed look of aloofness and emotionless calm that the young eleven year old girl before him had. He stared down at her with a glare.
"Miss Slythe, since you are obviously so much better than the rest of the class, please tell us exactly how many Porcupine quills must be used in the Dreamless Sleep potion." He said, confident that the poor girl didn't know the answer to the simple question. A pale hand not two seats away shot into the air. Hermione Granger obviously was trying to get the professor's attention as she waved her hand about, very nearly slapping the insufferable Potter in the face. Elizabeth blinked once, then twice, then smirked in a most regal fashion. One look from the other students and they knew she was in major trouble.
"Five quills are needed, Monsieur." She murmured in a low, French tinted voice. The room quieted. Professor Snape sneered down at the girl.
"So, a little know it all, eh?" he said, scoffing. "And French too. I suppose it was too much to ask for a normal dunderhead class then." He said and turned to resume his lecture. The blonde head of Draco Malfoy turned as he eyed the black haired brilliance to his left. Something was off about her.
"Now, everyone! Let's try it all together! Swish and flick! Wingardium Leviosa!" the room filled with a cacophony of little voices saying the simple levitation spell. Miss Hermione Granger was too busy showing off to her two new friends, Potter and Weasley, to notice as the rest of the class went quiet.
Elizabeth's twenty inch wand was pointed lazily at the small feather as I hovered in midair. She yawned and glanced down at her hand and examined her fingernails as she made small patterns with her wand, the feather following only seconds behind the movements.
"Extraordinary! It seems Miss Slythe has done it! Look everybody! Such control! Extraordinary!" professor Flitwick said in a jovial voice. The room turned its gaze on the small girl, her aloof demeanor cracking as her eyebrow twitched in irritation.
The rest of the first day of school at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry did not go as planned for little Miss Elizabeth Slythe.
"Transfiguration is a delicate art, a science that requires exactness and imagination. It is the most useful of magic and the most complex. The art of Transfiguration is the art of taking an object and transforming it into a completely different object." McGonagall said, her tone as terse and strict as it was warm and understanding. The class was enraptured. The blackette in the back of the classroom went unnoticed as she fiddled with her quill and parchment, drawing steaming cauldrons and birds with dragon wings.
"The first thing you need to know about plants is that every single one is different… Miss Slythe!"
Elizabeth jerked up from where she was resting her head against the wall, dozing. The students laughed until she glared around with a fury that rivaled the dreaded Potions Master. It was obvious, the know-it-all Slytherin didn't care much for Herbology.
Needless to say, Divination; History of Magic; and Muggle Studies were not high on Elizabeth's list of favorite classes. Care for Magical Creature's however, was a complete disaster. Not only did she frighten the poor birds they were to be studying away just as it was her turn to reach out and feed them a bit of chicken meat and hide, but she also set off a baby Hippogriff into flying away.
"… And thusly, leaving the opponent completely immobilized. This simple spell can be used with the most honest of intents, but many will agree, Stupefy is one of the most common spells for Aurors to use." Professor Quirrel said, in his shaky, small voice. Elizabeth thought he most certainly wasn't cut out to be Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor.
Lunch was probably the best time for Elizabeth. She managed to avoid notice by sitting the closest to the staff table instead of the door, as is expected of first year Slytherins who think everyone outside their house is out to get them. Her face betrayed none of her immense turmoil over the white blonde headed boy beside her and his two cronies. Malfoy, Goyle, and Crabbe were their names and they were rude, impossible, stubborn, stupid prats, the three of them. Malfoy was the worst, with his superiority complex and his arrogance and his cockiness and his insufferable attitude and his garish hair and his self-centered view and his idiocy and… and… and his being a Malfoy!
Elizabeth decided right then, Draco Malfoy was a powerful ally worthy of being a Slytherin, but he was also a stupid git. She hated him.
The end of the school day was greeted by all quite happily. Some retreated to their dorms, some to their common rooms, some to the Quidditch pitch, and some to the Library for study and reading. Although, none could say they knew where Miss Slythe had gone. She had disappeared once the final bell rang. And it was with great shock and wonder that two seventh year Gryffindors found her, sitting in the Potions class room examining the different cauldrons lining the desks. They immediately left to find the professor of the dungeons. When Professor Snape burst into the room, he stopped dead. The insolent chit that had snuck into his class room wasn't playing a prank, but looking at his equipment. She turned abruptly, her hands full of parchment and quill, sketches of the cauldrons on the paper. He looked between her face and the rest of the room, making sure nothing was missing. The only thing that seemed different was the large cauldron she stood next to was now tipped over, knocked by her surprised jump. He sneered at her.
"Miss Slythe, what are you doing in here? Should you not be playing with your little friends?" he asked sarcastically. She didn't flinch as he expected.
"I have no friends, as you say, Professor. I'd rather learn more about brewing and Potions in general. I want to know more, Monsieur." She said, not looking in the least ashamed. He narrowed his eyes at her and shook his head.
"Save your know-it-all self for class, Miss Slythe. Now be off with you." He said. She looked angered but said nothing, simply set down the parchment and quill and left quietly. He glanced at the pictures and scoffed, taking the parchment and folding it neatly before putting it in his desk drawer.
By the end of the year, Elizabeth had integrated herself into the lives of every professor, and half the Slytherin student body. The seventh years in her house had a healthy respect for the young girl, and half of the other years did as well. The only ones who did not think she was worthy of being a Slytherin were, in fact, Malfoy and his posse. Draco, Goyle, Crabbe, and Pansy Parkinson did everything in their power to make her life an eternal misery. However, after the incident in the potions classroom, Professor Snape had an innate need to protect the young girl from her classmates, though did not hesitate to torment her himself.
Year after year, the girl stood against the tides, forcing Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and Slytherins alike to acknowledge that Hermione Granger had competition for Brightest Witch of her Age.
Now that you know her backstory, let us skip to the present time. At this very moment, Miss Elizabeth Slythe was in a particularly vigorous Potions class. Seated next to The Boy Who Lived himself, she was not happy, though the joy that Potions brought her was not all gone.
"Don't add that in yet, Potter, or you will melt the cauldron!" she hissed under her breath, her accent making the words all the more menacing. She grabbed the boy's hand to keep him from pouring the dragon tears into the cauldron. He glanced quickly at her and put the jar down. He stared as she began mixing the dragon tears with the crushed ginger roots before adding the concoction into the potion.
"These are meant to be put in at the same time, but mixing them together first adds the potency. If you had added the dragon tears before the ginger roots, then the entire potion would look absolutely beautiful, but do absolutely nothing." She said. Harry nodded before gazing at her longingly when he thought she wasn't looking. The look did not go unnoticed, however, by the recipient or the professor.
"Mr. Potter, if you want to ogle Miss Slythe, then feel free to do so outside of my class. However, as this potion is complex and deserves your full attention, please keep your unhealthy infatuation away from it, lest the potent explosion of your mistake kill us all." Professor Snape said. Harry jumped and looked around the room, blushing as snickers came from both Gryffindors and Slytherins. Elizabeth paid no mind and continued stirring her potion. She glanced up and waved the professor over to her table.
"Monsieur, this potion looks like it should be ready, but the timer has not gone off yet. I am afraid if I take it off the heat to cool it will not work, but if I leave it on and it really is ready now, it will overheat and melt the cauldron…" her words trailed off as the stern professor made his way to her. He dipped a ladle into the potion and held it toward Harry.
"Mr. Potter, please test this potion for our resident Slythe." He said. Harry gulped but nodded. He took the ladle and took a sip before coughing loudly. Elizabeth sat forward, her hand absentmindedly stirring the potion in her cauldron but her eyes fixed on the boy's face. Harry blushed at her examinations but then his eyes rolled back in his head and he laughed loudly, startling most of the students. He started spouting nonsense before falling face first onto the table. Elizabeth pouted.
"A few more minutes then, Professor, as it did not last more than a few second?" she asked. The older man nodded and set the ladle down.
"Well done, Miss Slythe. You were able to recognize the potential of a nearly finished potion but still wanted to test it. That is the mark of a true Potions Master, or in your case Mistress." He said. Elizabeth resisted the urge to grin at him and nodded her thanks, continuing to survey the room while stirring. Her eyes followed her favorite professor as he sat at his desk, opening a drawer and pulling out a bit of parchment. He looked at it as if reading something before putting it down and looking over the class. Their eyes locked and they watched each other for a moment before the sound of Elizabeth's wand spouting her timer's end interrupted the moment. She jerked back and took the cauldron off the heat, ignoring the fluttering in her stomach. She bottled her potion warm, placing a heating charm on the bottle to keep the potion the same temperature, before letting the rest cool and bottling it cold. She stood and placed both phials on her professor's desk and going back to her seat beside the infuriating Harry Potter. She sat down regally to await the end of class, fifteen minutes ahead of schedule. She sat and watched her professor move languidly across the room with keen eyes, averting disasters from both houses. She watched him berate the fool Longbottom and held in her smile. Only he could insult so fluidly and intelligently that you wouldn't know you're being insulted until far too late. The stupid Longbottom boy preened as the professor spoke, but he withered once his partner, Granger, explained to him the man's words. Elizabeth smirked.
"What's so funny?" Harry whispered from next to her. His eyes glued to her even as she noted the potion in his cauldron boiling into a complete mess of a Mentality Potion. She smirked at him and nodded toward their professor.
"I'll need to take lessons from him. I'm good at tearing people down, but not half as good or eloquent as he." She said before turning away from the boy's angered face. She rolled her eyes inwardly. Stupid boy thought she was nice? Ha, what a laugh.
"Mr. Potter! Your potion!" Professor Snape's booming voice resounded through the room. Harry turned back to his potion just in time to lean over it and catch the entirety of the boiling mess on his person. The room erupted into laughter as he cried out in surprise and pain and even Elizabeth smirked a bit as she watched his try to clean his precious glasses with his soiled jumper. Professor Snape sent him with Hermione to the Hospital Wing and turned on the still smirking Elizabeth.
"Miss Slythe, you knew all too well that Mr. Potter's potion would explode if it boiled like that for too long. Why did you not do something to stop it, like you did when he foolishly tried to add the dragon tears too soon?" he asked. The room fell silent, waiting to hear Elizabeth admit she hadn't noticed the mistake for once. She only blinked at the looming man and shrugged.
"Harry Potter is a child with the attention span of a peanut. I figured he could use a hard learned lesson. Besides, if he had added the dragons tears, the explosion could have been deadly or extremely dangerous to all in the immediate vicinity. I knew if the potion over boiled, all that would happen would be a very large but harmless mess to clean up, which is easy with a quick vanishing charm. No harm done to the classroom or the stupid class or the precious Boy Who Lived. No harm done to me either, so it was of little concern to myself. And to top it off, it was amusing." She replied. The entire room was dead silent. Snape smirked down at her.
"Very well put, Miss Slythe. Ten points to Slytherin for planning ahead and self-preservation, followed up by a three hour detention with me after dinner this evening. I would advise against being late, Miss Slythe." He said with a glare. She blinked and smirked up at him playfully.
"So mote it be, Monsieur." She said. He stalked away from her and she leaned back in her chair to rest for the remainder of class. A hard glare was sent her way by the idiot redhead friend of Potter's, Ron Weasley, and an approving smirk was received from the idiot blonde enemy of Potter, Draco Malfoy. She accepted both with good grace, but gave Weasley as good as she got and better beside.
In the Great Hall, the Birds, the Lions, the Snakes, and the Badgers all were quite animated. Given that the day was a Friday and the very next day was a Hogsmeade weekend. Elizabeth looked around the room from her seat, closest to the Head table, and sighed.
"Being a stick in the mud as always, French Fry." Malfoy taunted from his seat four down from hers. Elizabeth stared at him. The nick name was old and given to her by one of the few Muggleborn Slytherins. She hissed at the blonde menace and turned her attention to Parkinson.
"Miss Parkinson, would you be so kind as to pass me the mashed turnip salad bowl that is beside you?" she asked civilly. Parkinson was a fool who was all too predictable. She fell right into the plan. Pansy snickered.
"Here you go, Slythe!" she said and levitated the bowl of salad over Elizabeth's head. It dropped, covering the poor girl in mashed turnips and salad leaves. The entire room grew quiet. Then a thunderous voice boomed through the entire hall even as Elizabeth opened her mouth to mutter a cleansing spell and a quick jinx at Pansy.
"MISS PARKINSON!" the stunned girl turned to face her Head of House. Severus Snape was many things, and terrifying is one of them. He loomed above the terrified girl with a look of outrage on his face.
"How DARE you do such a thing to your fellow Slytherin! And in front of the entire school no less! I have half a mind to deduct a hundred points from you this day, Parkinson, and I would too if Miss Slythe was not an innocent party and would suffer as well. You should be ashamed of such forth right behavior! Detention, tomorrow evening, with Filch, and NO Hogsmeade!" he yelled, his voice booming throughout the hall. The entire room stared wide eyed at the furious professor and the Slytherin girls. Then Elizabeth came to her senses and Vanished the mess from her person. She stood up and bowed low to her professor, who stared at her in hidden confusion.
"Merci, Monsieur le professeur. Merci beaucoup. Je vous remercie de votre aide. J'ai hâte à notre séance de la détention ce soir. " She said. Then she walked steadily from the hall, leaving a silence in her wake that sent shivers down Headmaster Dumbledore's spine. Snape stared after the black haired girl as she left and then turned his gaze back to Parkinson.
"Do not ever let me catch you doing something so stupid ever again, Miss Parkinson, or the consequences will be dire." He said and stalked out of the room. He thought back to the girls words and shook his head. How could anyone look forward to detention with him? And why did she appreciate him stepping in and probably humiliating her more?
When he reached his classroom, the girl that inhabited his thoughts was already there, her hair forming a long black curtain around her so he could not see her face. He walked up behind, her, expecting to see her crying, but instead he saw he sketching little cauldrons.
"Bonjour, Miss Slythe." He said. She raised her head and handed him the parchment without a word.
"Bonjour, Monsieur Snape." She replied. He smirked and put the parchment in his drawer.
"You will begin your detention with brewing several batches of Pepper-Up Potions for the Hospital Wing." He said and turned away to begin grading as she did as she was told.
An hour later found the professor examining the four batches of Pepper-Ups that were provided. He nodded in approval. He turned and his breath caught in his throat. Elizabeth Slythe, the Know-It-All Slytherin, the Blackette Beauty, the Slytherin Snake Princess, was fast asleep in a corner using her bundled up robes as a pillow, her hand curled into a tight fist in front of her face, her entire body curled into a small ball as if to make a smaller target. She snored softly, cutely even, with such a peaceful look on her usually hard and emotionless face, he did not have the heart to wake her. Snape sighed and picked up the sleeping girl bridal style, smiling gently as her hands immediately wrapped themselves in his robes as if to hold him to her. He levitated her discarded robes over her as a blanket and made his way through the dungeons to the Slytherin Dorms. He spoke the password and stepped through the portrait hole into the common room. Only a few seventh years and a couple third years were still up and he realized how late he actually kept her in detention. He glowered at them and carried the young girl into the girls' dorms. He went to the dorm he knew she shared with Parkinson and two others and opened the door. The three girls turned with sneers to face who they assumed was their roommate. But the looks turned to shock as the Potions Master walked in with a dead-to-the-world Elizabeth. He narrowed his eyes at them and surveyed the room. It was obvious which bed was Elizabeth's as it was the only one made with the curtains neatly tide instead of hanging limply. It was also bereft of any personal items such as make up cases or photos or magazines. The only things that decorated the bed were scattered sketches of different cauldrons or Potions notes a rather large collection of Potions texts. He levitated the books and papers into a neat pile on her bed-stand and gently laid the young girl down on the bed.
He pulled the comforter back and up to her chin to keep her warm and set her robes aside. He glared at the other girls when he noticed the Blocking charms placed over the bed, designed to block alarms set to wake her up. He released the charms and scowled at the girls as he left. He threw one last glance at the sleeping Slythe before shutting the door quietly as to not wake her. He made his way down the steps and into the common room.
Draco Malfoy stared at his godfather in shock. Had he just carried Elizabeth Slythe to bed?
A/N: Hope you enjoyed. This is my first Harry Potter fic, so be nice…? Review please! They brighten my days!
DITF