Professor Potter – Potions Master
By: Anagha Kerur.
He slipped out from behind the statue of the witch and tagged casually along behind a row of second years with potions books. One of the students at the back looked up startled at the young man with messy hair and glasses, carrying a miniature version of himself. The young child peered out from under a mini wizard's hat with brilliant green eyes, blushed with excitement ,and started waving his arms about and gurgling as he recognised the room they were walking towards. The young man winked and grinned and the second year boy decided to pretend he'd never noticed him and see what would happen.
They entered a brightly lit room with cauldrons ready on the desks and an assortment of ingredients waiting at the centre table. The back of the classroom was lined with shelves almost double the height of the second year students. They were filled with various jars and flasks of dark green and brown shades, and boxes and trays, all neatly labelled, each containing a different ingredient. The side walls had colourful posters of various potions and their effects. At the front of the class, there was a huge blackboard covering almost three quarters of the entire wall, above which hung a clock whose face displayed the emotions of whichever professor was teaching. Most of the older students took it as a warning not to mess around on the days it went red with controlled anger. Today however, it looked quite content.
The professor, Lily Potter, had her back facing the class as she wrote down the day's potion and how to prepare it. She was a moderately tall young woman, only a few years older than the seventh year students and thus the subject of many adolescent crushes. She wore a cream blouse that was tucked into a pair of high-waisted pants; sturdy black pointed boots, and topped off with the mandatory teacher's robes. Her long red hair was tied neatly into a high ponytail and her left wrist carried a delicate black watch.
"Good morning class," she called out, still facing the board.
"Good morning Professor Potter," sang the class back.
An unusually deep voice caught her attention and she turned to see her husband walking across the class towards her.
"James! Really, again?" she said with only a hint of annoyance in her voice.
"Well we were in Hogsmeade and we got bored so we decided to pop in for a visit," he chuckled and kissed her on the cheek.
"Maa maa…" young Harry had to have his say too. Having just learnt how to speak, he felt he had a lot of catching up to do.
"Hello darling. Well you can join the class if you want but you'll have to behave okay?" she told Harry with a twinkle in her eye. He nodded back most sincerely. She turned round to address the class and smiled in amusement; many of them had covered their eyes and were now peering through their fingers in case of further affection. Lily was quite used to her husband popping in while she was teaching but apparently they weren't.
"Today we're brewing a Vanishing potion so gather around. I'm going to demonstrate it first, and then I want you to try it yourselves. Pay close attention because this has far more steps than any of the other potions we've done so far," said Professor Potter getting into, what she called, her 'teaching zone'. James, with Harry still in his arms, stepped back as a flood of black robes surrounded the middle desk. He gazed at her lovingly as she began to chop the Buckerweed roots while simmering the contents in the cauldron. She had an air of familiarity about her as she worked and it calmed the children. Even the ones who had come with an ingrained fear of potions found themselves relaxing as Professor Potter gave small hints and tips on how to properly cut the roots or how many times they should stir. He was proud of his wife. She had wanted to make a difference in the lives of children, take out the fear of potions at a young age so that they won't be haunted by it in their later years like she'd seen in many of her friends, and she had.
"Alright class, please go back to your desks and try it yourselves. The instructions are on the board in case you forget anything. You will have 40 minutes before I come around to check and give the homework. Any questions? No? Okay then," said Professor Potter. She clapped her hands twice, a signal to commence, and the children went obediently back to their desks.
"Professor, I have a question…" started James, with a mischievous smile playing on his lips.
"Any queries unrelated to today's topic will be addressed after class Mr Potter," said Professor Potter, guessing his intention. "For now, I suggest you make yourself useful."
James smiled at the familiar order and began walking around the room, picking various ingredients and whispering their many uses to Harry, all the while looking out for any kid who was struggling.
Harry listened wide eyed to his dad absorbing all the information – or maybe he was just staring but James couldn't tell wither way. Harry knew he had to be quiet when 'in class' so he frequently whispered 'How? How? How?' instead of shouting it at the top of his lungs as he usually did at home. It was a new word he had learnt and intended to use it as much as possible.
Halfway through listing out the medicinal properties of a Gangthorpe horn, James' eye caught a little boy a few seats away holding the bluntest knife James had seen and trying to saw his way through a Buckerweed root and had only managed to get halfway through. The boy gave up, lifted his knife and started slamming it down on the already cut part, hoping for a quicker method to chop it. Afraid that he might chop his finger off at this rate, James walked over to the boy, knelt down on one knee and put Harry on his other leg.
"Hey," said James. The boy started and looked at James guiltily.
"I suggest cutting it diagonally. It serves the same purpose and it's a lot easier since the fibres are aligned that way," said James as gently as he could. The boy looked as though he was debating with himself whether to listen to his teacher's husband or not. What if it made things worse?
"It'll work, trust me. My dad was a Potions Master," said James, reading the boy's thoughts.
Thinking it couldn't hurt to try what James said instead of almost chopping his finger off, the boy placed it diagonally and began to slice. Although it did take some effort – on account of the blunt knife – it was much easier than before. He cut through his root fairly quickly now and James saw a couple others also following suit. The boy looked up and grinned, relieved.
"Thanks… um… Mister Potter," said the boy shyly.
"Anytime kiddo," said James amiably as he got up and went back to showing Harry various ingredients.
Lily, sitting at her desk, going carefully through a pile of homework, observed the interaction with a small smile. The boy, Derek Shorthose, was one of the shyest boys she had met and had arrived to his first Potions class practically quaking. His older brother, only three years ahead, had got Outstanding in his Potions OWLs and so Derek now felt obligated to meet the same standards. With the great grey cloud of parents' expectations looming over his head, he was unable to appreciate the fact that he had greatly improved since he began; according to him, he would never be good enough. Perhaps, thought Lily, this will give him a bit of confidence. She had observed, from the several times James had advised struggling students, that his out-of-the-way methods seemed to give them a slight boost of confidence. A look as if to say "I know how to do this in a way that wasn't taught" could be seen on their faces as they taught it to other students. It allowed them to come to the conclusion that there was not always only one way of doing something. This was exactly what Lily wanted them to realise by the time they all left Hogwarts: potion making was all about experimenting. Potions were originally made by experimenting with the properties of the ingredients, and the proportions and order in which to add them. Even though each potion had a certain procedure that had been passed down for generations, she wanted the students to realise that not all the potions had been invented yet. This was one of the main reasons she let James hover around as she taught, apart from the fact that she enjoyed his company – it relaxed her somewhat.
Professor Potter glanced at her wrist watch and stood up.
"Time's up class. Let's see how well you've done."
She walked around the classroom, looking into each cauldron and giving words of praise to the students.
"Well done Derek. Nice job," she smiled. He beamed. After she had looked through each cauldron and made a few corrections, she glanced at her watch again.
"You have ten minutes, class. I want you to note down the homework on the board and tidy your things up. Once your desk is tidy, you may leave."
There was a bustling of parchment and quills, and the occasional scraping of metal on wood or the tinkle of glass as everyone hurried to tidy up. James, with Harry leaning lazily against his shoulder, was now beside his wife, a safe distance away from the flurry of black robes. As the last student walked out, Lily Potter waved her wand and the wet rag from the back corner took it upon itself to wipe off any spills left on the desks.
"So about my question," ventured James. "You did say to ask after class."
"Yes I did," she smirked. "Go on then."
"So, what do you say to dinner? Just us, it's been a while. Remus and Sirius have offered to look after Harry for the night and I want to try out this new place that's come up."
"Sounds great."
"Great," he kissed her full on the mouth and winked. "It's a date."
As he walked out, Lily could hear snippets of conversation, "… Uncle Moony's… it'll be fun… pick you up in the morning…" and small excited squeaks of, "How!" in reply. She smiled fondly and turned to clean the chalkboard. One didn't have to look at the wall clock to know that Lily James Potter was blushing.