Title: Another Year

Rating: K+

Pairing: HarryxDraco (will be little, since Snape is the main character)

Summary: The story changes when Harry Potter is revealed to be a natural Occlumen and a Parselmouth in his first year at Hogwarts, not to mention the very first day of school. What is our Potions Master thinking?

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Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

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-Chapter 01: Potions Class, Quirrel and Undead Dark Lord-

Some would say that Severus Snape was a true bastard, an insufferable git or even a sadist, if knowing his hobbies, which appeared to be seeing his students failed (as always, Slytherins were not included). The method was actually quite simple and petty, but pretty useful. A single charm to decrease the temperature in the dungeon; inaudible footsteps to sneak behind their backs; hot breath sent down their necks to cause them to petrify or to drop whatever they were holding – mostly porcupine quills and flobberworm mucous – into their cauldrons while the fire was still on; quick moves to duck the explosion, and finally, a cold, dangerously silky voice, owned only by the infamous Potions Master of Hogwarts, to destroy whatever guts left in them by snide comments and House points docking. Believe Snape, who used this method so many times that only first years weren't aware of, and so skillfully that even seventh years still fell for it.

For this most unusual reason, Snape always looked forward to his first lesson with the eleven-year-old brats, especially if they were Hufflepuffs or Gryffindors. Absent-mindedly drumming his skeletal fingers on his desk, he waited for them like a snake baited careless victims.

The stony door opened heavily, revealed some familiar faces that he knew to be either Slytherins or Ravenclaws without glancing at their uniforms. Snape quickly dismissed the bookworms and paid attention to his snakes. There… he could see Parkinson, chatting quietly with Bulstrode. Nott and Zabini seemed to be quite cozy, because they sat very closely to each other and almost held hands in attempt to keep warm. Snape smirked. The temperature in Slytherins area went up some notches, as both boys looked up at him as if they knew, and nodded thankfully. The door opened again, as more Slytherins and Ravenclaws walked in. Deep onyx eyes softened when he saw his godson – Draco, as proud and confident as ever – but darkened at the presence of one raven haired, green eyed boy, namely Harry Potter.

Somehow, all his senses were screaming loudly. Snape groaned and rubbed his temple. He had even forgotten that Potter made it to Slytherin after several sips of firewhiskey last night, and the prat had to show up in his very favorite day of school and completely destroy his mood.

Slytherin or not, Potter would have to face the misguided hatred of his Potions professor, the only thing that was different was that Snape would do the work subtlier… and… deadlier.

Snape smiled at the dark thought and accidentally made some Ravenclaws first years shiver.

After taking the roll call, Snape began his favorite speech: 'You are here to learned to subtle art and precise art of potions making. This delicate work is totally different from foolish wand waving' he snapped at the last word, as if it was a pest 'Let's see if you are not a bunch of helpless dunderhead I have to teach every year and are able to understand its beauty'

The speech – spoken by whisper – captivated the whole class. Potter was looking at him with eyes that practically shone with enthusiasm. The other Slytherins, though faking a mask of indifference, slightly fidgeted on their seat. No need to tell the unique reaction of the bookworms.

'Potter' Snape said suddenly 'What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel into an infusion of wormwood?'

Potter seemed to be silent for a moment, his face unfathomable. The class waited in absolute silence, fearing that Potter couldn't answer the question. Finally, Potter looked up: 'I believe you would get Draught of Living Death, sir'

'And what took you so long to answer this simple question, Potter?' Snape's voice was barely more than a whisper. Yes, this is a very simple question, only to those who read their books before school.

'I have read my books, sir, but I can't remember every little detail to deal with a baiting pop-quiz at the beginning of the class full of first years practically knowing nothing about what is to be taught to them' said Potter, raising an eyebrow at him 'So I had to answer based on potions theories'

All Slytherins smirked at the same time at their slightly surprised teacher, who clearly hadn't expected that the only survivor of a family full of Gryffindor bravery could have answered his questions while subtly insulting him with a tone as respectful as could be managed.

So, Potter finally had some traits worthy to be sorted into Slytherin.

'Very well then. Where would I look for a bezoar, Potter?'

Potter's face could be compared to a peaceful lake that had never vibrated. Snape thought of discretely pointing his wand at him and using Leligimency, but then, he recalled the brat was a natural Occlumen.

'In the stomach of a goat, sir'

'What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?'

'They're the same, and are commonly called aconite, sir'

Impressive, for a Potter whose family is known to be total failure in Potions, thought Snape. But what inspired his curiosity most was the way Potter answered his first question. What did Potter say… 'I had to answer based on potions theories'. There were many books about this subject, whereas most of them said the same thing and never got to the most basic. Potter could have bought one under somebody's suggestion. But then again, potions theories weren't something for a first year to be able to understand. Snape recalled his godson had to word non-stop for six months under his strict tutelage before he could grasp the basic of the theories. How could Potter, by any mean…

He barked to the whole class: 'Well, aren't you writing this down?'

Potter had the guts to sneer at him before setting down on writing. Draco nudged him at his side, murmuring something about 'shouldn't have done that', but Potter seemed unaffected, and gave Draco a toothy grin, at which his godson turned back with a small smile.

Snape knew, that these two brats together would shorten his life expectancy to an unimaginable limit.

'Now, for the practical part of today's lesson…'

At least he set the brats into working now. One careless move and he would have the pleasure in removing points. Poor Ravenclaws, since he had never picked on his House, and poor Potter, who would be received detentions if committed any mistake.

Double Potions – Snape noticed with a wry smirk while all the time surveying the class – never ended without accident - or in Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs case, without injury. Most of the unfortunates were those who foolishly dropped porcupine quills into their heavily heated cauldrons upon their professor's mere presence (and Snape didn't feel one bit guilty). Some other never paid enough attention to the instructions written on the board – somewhat charmed to look like a puzzle to Gryffindorks – and made several little petty faults in the brewing process such as stirring the potion the wrong way or throwing the ingredients carelessly. Although Snape didn't want to, he had to admit that despite his damnable years dedicated to the dunderheads, their rueful expression was always something he couldn't afford to miss.

Alas, Potter – on top of anyone he could think of – had to step in just to annoy his professor, who was sure that the brat did it for his own fun and not for other people's sake. Whatever respect he had for the boy for his – Merlin forbid – intelligent answer disappeared as he stared at Potter seemed-to-be useless hand wave towards Boot's cauldron, which a piece of porcupine quill was going to be drop into. Boot jerked suddenly, and, looking at Potter thankfully, the Ravenclaws tossed it away. Snape blinked.

And because of Potter, who disturbingly prevented any accident from happening with the same hand gesture, Double Potions – for the first time ever since Snape became a teacher – went smoothly without anyone to occupy Madam Pomfrey. The fuming Potions Master had to grudgingly award points for their flawless potions. His reputation was officially demolished under the hand of an eleven-year-old.

'Potter, stay behind' Snape almost shouted. Slytherin or not, Potter was a walking menace. But then, if his assumption was right, Potter possessed some… potential, not just in Potions.

'Yes, professor?'

Potter's face looked calm and serene, like the Hogwarts Lake. No emotion was shown. Snape knew very well, that no eleven-year-old child should have had that kind of face, even the quiet ones.

'It's about your answer. You mentioned the potions theories, which is apparently not something for first years to understand. Tell me, how, by any chance, you are able to grasp its basic'

Potter looked relaxed a little, his lips slightly curved and formed the perfect Slytherin sneer. Snape has never felt so unnerved in front of a student.

'I'm sure you wouldn't be content about it, sir'

'And because?'

'Although it sounds a little absurd, Wizarding potions theories bears no difference to Muggles', in the basic stage. They shared the same essential laws and principles. While wizards describe them as advanced and complicated, muggles teach them to their children since middle school. And I happen to be quite ahead in Chemistry, sir'

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That night, Snape shut himself in the Restricted Area of Hogwarts library, because his own library didn't have any book that mentioned anything about Muggle… chemistry. He wanted to check if Potter had said the truth. But even if he did, a part of Snape – who believed that Muggles should be erased from this world – didn't want to follow it. After two long hours searching, Snape finally came across a book called Potions Theories – The Difference between Wizards and Muggles.

Till the present day, Potions Theories is deemed as one of the most difficult and complicated competences of Potions, and is studied only by Potions Master and their apprentices. Surprisingly, and maybe shamefully, Potions Theories and muggle Chemistry Theories share the same most basic laws and principles. While the competence is limited only to those who are adept in Potions, Muggles facilitate and teach it to their children since middle school (equivalent with Hogwarts second year).

The law of mass conservation is one of the basics that apply to all fields of Muggle Chemistry and Wizarding Potions, including Alchemy, and was first formulated by a muggle scientist named Antoine Lavoisier in 1789. The law states that the mass of a closed system will remain constant, regardless of the processes acting inside the system. This implies that for any chemical process in a closed system, the mass of the reactants must be equal to the mass of the products.

In Wizarding Potions language, the law is stated differently, but bears no difference. The mass of the ingredients of a potion must be equal with the mass of this potion when done. For example: when 10 pounds of powdered root of asphodel and 3 pounds of infusion of wormwood are used to brew Draught of Living Death, the produced potion must weight 13 pounds.

The law of mass conservation is very useful for poisons and untraced potions analysing.

'So this is the reason why some muggleborn students are able to grasp even the hardest potions ever taught, and Potions Masters are partially muggleborn' Snape murmured and closed the book. Noting that he would have to notice Madam Pince later, he took the book out of the Restricted Area and walked back to his private quarter.

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There was something that was definitely not right in the thick purple turban of the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, namely Quirrel. That turban, when faced with Snape, made him unconsciously scratch the marked arm, and sent dizziness to his head, as if somebody was trying to read his mind, though with a weak attempt. Moreover, Quirrel stuttered everytime when called, but his babbling wasn't normal. People who stuttered only did so at the beginning of a sentence, whereas Quirrel stammered almost every word. It sounded so false in Snape's ears, but he had no proof.

Quirrel acted as an ordinary teacher – no bribery, no favouritism, no grudge with other teachers. Well, except Snape. Quirrel seemed to cower in Snape's presence, and that was not because of his sharp glare.

'Maybe I should tell Albus about him' thought Snape. But the headmaster – an overjoyed old coot he was – told him not to worry about Quirrel, and that he should be more open to everyone. Snape sneered at the useless advice.

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By the time Halloween announced its arrival, Snape hasn't discovered anything about Quirrel. Time to time, he looked askance at the other, surveying every of his gesture. The only thing he was awarded with was the slight pain in his marked arm and ridiculous attempts in poking his mind.

Snape wasn't too surprised when the Defence teacher stomped in the Great Hall, stuttering something about troll in the dungeon. While the staff guided the panicked students back to their dormitories (except Slytherins, who resided in Ravenclaw common room because their dormitory happened to be the dungeon itself), he decided to chase after Quirrel, who had suspiciously disappeared after comically fake-fainting in the Great Hall.

Rushing through the ruckus, Snape's robe was seized by a small hand from Slytherin table. He resisted an urge to snap at the brat: 'Potter? What do you think you are doing?'

'No need to go after him, sir'

Something in those deep green eyes told him not to argue against it, and Snape could detect no lie.

'Get back to Ravenclaw common room' was all he said. Potter nodded.

But then, Snape knew that he shouldn't have believed Potter's almost angelic face.

Laid on the floor of the girls' bathroom, unmoving, the enormous dead corpse of a mountain troll soaked in its own blood. Its head and chest were severed with large gashes from where blood was oozing out. There stood Potter, leaning against the wall, wand grasped in hand, ready to fire off another curse should the troll have moved an inch. His breath was slightly shallow, but there was a smirk firmly kept in place.

The other teachers arrived shortly after Snape. Quirrel let out a faint whimper and clutched his heart. Minerva's lips turned white upon seeing the dead troll.

'Explain, Mr. Potter'

'Successive Diffindo Maximus, professor' Potter answered.

Snape's lips twitched in attempt to form a half smile for his Slytherin. Never, ever in Hogwarts history had a first year defeated a troll, and a mountain troll at that. Moreover, Diffindo wasn't taught until second year, and Diffindor Maximus definitely was a made-up, but useful spell.

'Very well. Ten points to Slytherin' said Minerva, anger slowly fading. He inwardly clapped for her. 'But next time, notify a teacher first, Mr. Potter. Now get back to your dormitory'

Snape didn't understand why Potter told him not to waste time chasing after Quirrel, until Albus told him that the headmaster had spent hours last night identifying all locking spells that were mysteriously placed on the door of the corridor on the third floor, instead of a simple and single Alohomora.

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A/N: God, I've been through a dreadful week. Exams, broken computer, lost files… And my twelve-year-old sister had to accidentally click on the button 'Delete this story' and then 'Yes'. Yeah, that's the reason Grave Mistake disappeared without a trace. I'm very sorry, everyone. I'll try to repost the story as soon as possible.

Reviews are appreciated.