A/N: There are few things Severus loves: his mother's apple pie, reading, Lily and Potions. slight Snily.
Submission for:
The HPFC Writer's Tournament: Round 2 - Potions Class. Pride.
Ascend-The-Ladder Competition!: Round 2 -Your character's favorite subject
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
There were very few things Severus loved. He loved his mother's apple pies, though she stopped making them since he was six. He loved reading, his appetite for knowledge never filled but sometimes satiated as he poured over large dusty tomes. He loved Lily, though she remained oblivious to how deep his affections were for her. Though if anything could contest that love, it would be his devotion to Potions.
At Hogwarts, he was the outcast, the sulky Slytherin with the hooked nose and the tired robes. He wasn't the friendliest, the most attractive, the most popular, funny or creative, but he was intelligent and Potions was his outlet.
He felt complete whenever he stood over a bubbling cauldron, counting off the seconds in his head as he stirred its contents. Severus prided himself on his work, his meticulous nature shining in a subject which required such precision and accuracy. It had to be perfect but that never discouraged him. In fact, he relished the challenge and the slight threat of potentional danger, knowing that any overestimation or quick judgement would turn the whole thing to rubbish, sometimes accompanied with an explosion or nasty side-effect.
He even took it a bit further, correcting his textbooks where he noticed there could be room for improvement - three drops of essence instead of two, crushing the figs with the side of the knife instead of chopping them to increase their effect - and his chest swelled with pride every time Professor Slughorn lauded his potion above his classmates, including Potter.
Potions also allowed him to think, to forget about the world around him. He forgot about the whispers that followed as he moved through the hallways. He forgot about his home life with his absent-minded mother and alcoholic father. He forgot about the physical bullying at the hands of Potter and Black. None of those things could touch him as he worked on his craft, adding ingredients to his potions and watching the magnificent results.
"You're doing well," Lily commented on his right as she peered into his cauldron. As expected at this stage, his potion was a vibrant pink, though his was stronger and smoother than predicted from his addition of one extra drop of vanilla.
He took a quick look into her cauldron. She was two steps behind, chopping her figs on the cutting board as she waited for her potion to simmer.
"If you crush them instead of cutting, then you'll only have to wait ten minutes afterwards instead of fifteen," he said out of the corner of his mouth.
Lily frowned, as he expected. Lily was a stickler to the rules and not one to take criticism well. She jumped to her textbook and said, "The book says cut, not crush, Sev."
Severus shrugged, saying nothing more. It was merely a suggestion. Lily pouted, looking between the book, his cauldron and then her own potion. He heard her scoff but out of the corner of his eye saw her crushing her fig cuttings.
His chest grew warm, whether from pride or some other emotion, he was unsure. But he felt... special knowing that she trusted his judgement this time instead of her textbook, knowing that she listened to him and valued his input.
He longed one day to tell her everything he could about Potions, everything he loved about the subject, everything he loved, and most important, everything he loved about her.