Dear Uncle Harry, Rose's letter read. Things have been okay, certainly better than I was expecting, seeing as you had such a hard time your First year, what with dealing with Professor Quirrel and that fight you had with each other. Things have gotten weird lately, though, specifically concerning Professor Longbottom. Did he have the tendency to get really grumpy when he was stressed? I'm not sure what to think, really. We're all confused and concerned. So far I've only had Herbology, so I'll let you know if things improve.
Best of luck at the Ministry! Hope the jacket brings you some peace and comfort if you ever need to escape for a few minutes.
Love,
Rosie
Harry rubbed his forehead, where his old, faded scar sat, nearly invisible due to the stress wrinkles work caused him. He now understood why Arthur had so little hair.
Movement drew his attention to the door. He looked up, and barely had time to react before a dart was in his shoulder, and he was on the floor, unconscious, his glasses knocked off and bouncing briefly.
Rose gathered her Potions supplies, and scurried down to the dungeons to her next class.
"Welcome, students, to First Year Potions. There will be no silly wand-waving, so put them away. I'm here to teach you the delicate art of brewing potions that can bring a sleep like death, cure poisons, even reverse time. There is nothing quite like the gentle shimmer of a simmering cauldron properly brewing your next potion," said a sallow skinned professor with a hooked nose, black eyes, and long black hair. "I am Professor Snape, and you will answer all questions and requests with the same respect you would give to the Minister of Magic."
Rose felt her eyebrows pucker of their own accord. She raised her hand.
"Stand up and speak your name," he ordered her, a slight edge to his voice that made her stomach almost turn to water.
She gulped as subtly as possible before standing. "My name is Rose Weasley, Professor. Um, my father said that he watched you die years ago," she said, her voice quivering slightly.
She instantly regretted her words as he stormed up to her, causing her to shrink in on herself, resisting the urge to yelp. His jaw was clenched when she glanced up at him briefly before staring hard at the chest of the student sitting in front of her. "My death," he growled, "was merely a minor setback." He turned to address the class. "Any more stupid questions?"
They all shook their heads and she sat down, trying to control her descent in spite of her rubbery legs. They set up for Potions and continued their lesson.