Chapter 2: Morning
Amily woke without an alarm clock the next morning. She glanced at the silver wall clock, its black second hand kept clicking along while the hour sat on five and the minutes on the six.
Five Thirty… oh gross. Amily thought to herself. She flipped her feet off the curved edge of the bed and it took her a minute to remember where she was.
She smiled and got to her feet. Amily glanced around the room to see that her clothes were gone, probably off to be washed. She made her bed in silence, her mind wandering to her schedule, which had been placed on her bedside table. First she had potions with Gryffindor starting at seven, then Defense against the Dark Arts with Ravenclaw, lunch, Herbology with Gryffindor and then finally Transfigurations with Hufflepuff. Then a free period until dinner.
A quick cleanliness charm and she got dressed. She looked into the full length mirror set beside the walk in, and pondered. She was content to call herself 'pretty' although she wasn't conceited to say anymore than that. She had long strait caramel colored hair that reached midway down her back, silver eyes with speckles of green in the right light. Her skin was light and smooth, she was proud of her looks because they were her father's for the most part, she would much rather look like her father than her mother. Her mother had platinum blonde hair and sapphire eyes, nice, if you want to be a stereotype, but Amily found life more reasonable looking just about average. She didn't wear make-up, mostly because it led directly to a face full of zits when she did.
For the rest of the hour and a half she had before Potions she snuggled up on her clean, crisp made bed and restored the titles on her potions library. Fond as she was of an ideal of average-ness, she found that she would not mind standing out if it was to the right person. Her conscience or perhaps her common sense told her she was being an idiot. Professor Snape had no interest in her, she was certain. She couldn't help but hope however, he seemed a very different kind of man next to the ones she had known in years past.
At 6:42 she got up again. She righted her hair in the mirror and smoothed out her clothes. She quickly packed her bag; she packed up her Potions, Defense, Herbological, and Transfiguration texts along with her insta-shrink cauldron. Then scooted out the door and down the stairs to the commonroom.
"Oh, Amily! Over here," Greg called; Amily smiled and walked over, standing a bit uncomfortably in the group. She stood out. For one she was one of only two girls. The other young lady had her hair cropped just above her shoulders and it was black as midnight, her eyes were a matchingly cold, dark color Amily couldn't decipher, and she had a well concealed pimple on her forehead. The girl clung to a tall blonde young man with cold grey eyes, not silver, but a dull irritable grey color. Amily could not look at him long, her stomach threatened to heave from the glare he sent out to anyone anywhere within the immediate vicinity.
Beside Greg was a broad, squat boy with dark hair, also cut short, his gorging companion from the night before. This boy had dark eyes, which seemed to be the major color in the House. Greg quickly introduced everyone. He introduced them as Pansy, Draco, and Vinney respectively.
"Amily," Amily said kindly. She shook Vinnie's hand, he seemed glad about it although it was sort of hard to tell. He seemed to have a grand total of three emotions: Hungry, irritable and bored. She offered her hands to Draco and Pansy. Draco looked at her for a minute, took her hand and gave it a lazy shake, while Pansy just crossed her arms across her chest and looked disgusted. Amily let her hand drop with an upset look.
"Pansy, what's your problem?" Vinnie asked. Amily had to stifle a snicker at the light airiness of his voice.
"Whatever do you mean?" she asked with a small smirk. She curled her arms around Draco's left arm and leaned her head onto his shoulder. Amily rolled her eyes before she could stop herself.
"What's your problem?" Pansy growled.
Fairly certain she and this girl, Pansy, would not get along she replied "Calm down, I'm not out to catch your boyfriend." Pansy seemed slightly relieved and her face flared pink, while Draco's lost what little color it had.
"We are not together!" he scowled, ripping his arm away from Pansy in a very distinctive show. Now Amily was well aware that she really didn't like Pansy. She could also somewhat sense the authority Draco gave off. So she was as shocked as Draco when her palm made contact with his smooth face."What the hell was that for!" he demanded. Amily thought for the briefest second about apologizing. However, the sensation of slapping Draco had released more endorphins than crying, laughing, and orgasm all together could have, so she sucked up her cowardice and did something she had never in her life done to a male.
She told him off. "You are a rude, sour, tease of a boy. You're playing with her head is what you're doing and that's wrong," Amily growled. It was a poor excuse for a rant, as she had never had a chance to practice, but it felt good to say so she stayed with it. Pansy looked up, realizing quickly that she was the "her" in the statement. Her eyes darted back to the floor which she scuffed with her shoe.
"You- you!" Draco accused. Amily felt waves of power crashing about within her. She found herself wholly unimpressed by him, he was a call man, and his hit men were stifling their laughter.
"I what?" Amily challenged.
"You haven't won, you know that, you're going to regret this," he threatened. Felt a sick twist in her stomach as her power began to recede. He was probably right. But on the last ebbing trickle of euphoria that came with calling Draco out, she finished with flare.
"I'd like to see you try," she replied. She smirked at his shock. The grandfather clock read five minutes to seven. She walked around him and out the archway. Her heart thundered in her chest as she anticipated a stron hex to hit her in the back. The only thing hurrying toward her however, was a pair of feet, clicking on the stone of the floor.
"Ummm, Amily?" whispered Pansy's voice.
"Hmm?" Amily asked.
"Uhh, thanks," she mumbled quietly.
"No problem," Amily replied. The two walked into the dungeon classroom that was the Potions lab. Amily settled herself in one of the front most seats. Pansy took a seat behind her, not wanting quite as much direct contact with Snape, for which Amily was greatful. She hadn't gone after Draco for Pansy, and she was none too eager to have the girl tailing her, especially after how the girl had already acted toward her. Amily watched as Draco, Vinnie, and Greg sat in the far back of the room. She decided then, that while she may not like Pansy, so long as the girl proved useful she may be a decent comrade.
People chatted here and there; Amily however was more or less silent, gazing at the door through which she decided Snape's office must have been. At the exact moment when the clock struck seven the door Amily was watching flew open and Severus Snape appeared. Almost instantly the class fell silent.
"I am not going to dillydally with pointless introductions. You are all well aware of who I am. Your first assignment will me a potion of your choosing based off of the ingredients listed here," he paused and flipped the chalkboard around to the side with a long list of odds and ends ingredients. "Proceed." He turned to Amily and without a pause walked over to where she sat. He looked down his nose at her in a fashion that made her throat go dry, although it would look to many as simple distain.
"If you are as enamored by potions as you say you are, you should be able to precede with a potion with Neville Longbottom, at the very least keep him from blowing up the dungeon," he said.
"Yes sir," Amily replied. She got to her feet and approached the gawky young man she knew as Neville Longbottom. "Would you mind if I worked with you?" she asked in her most innocent, affectionate tone.
"Err, I don't want to slow you down," he replied, gnawing on his lip.
"I don't think you will," she replied with a smile, this smile, unlike her greeting, was not forced. The boy was the kind of friendly she herself felt she might like to be. He looked up to her face and couldn't help but return her grin.
"Alright, what do you want to try?" he asked. Amily looked to the board, her mind came to several potions she would have tried if she had been on her own, but considering the warning from Snape she ruled them out.
"A sleeping draft seems reasonable," she mused. It was the easiest she could think of with the available ingredients, and it was the least likely to cause damage to people or property. Neville nodded. Amily and Neville walked to the front and retrieved the ingredients Amily reeled off her mental list.
"How do you know all this without looking in the book?" he asked. Amily paused for a moment and then smiled, using knowledge she'd come across when tutors for her worse off classes came up.
"I like Potions the way you like Herbology, it just comes naturally," she explained. He grinned, recognizing the compliment to his Herbological skills. They returned to their seats and proceeded. By the end of the class, not only had nothing exploded, Neville had actually done half of the work on the potion and succeeded. Amily wondered briefly if Snape had been wrong about Neville, until Snape drew near them and Neville began to quiver. Snape started with the row in front of them.
"This is just sad Mr. Weasley, no effort what so ever, five points from Gryffindor," he scowled. "Very nice Ms. Granger, ten points to Gryffindor, it seems Weasley may owe you for covering his bum, hmm?" he said, he seemed in a very good mood. He came to Neville and Amily. He carefully craned his neck to peek into the potion.
"A sleeping draft?" he asked. Amily nodded. He looked down at the calm sky blue color within and from her vantage point Amily watched a smile creep onto his face. The odor was one of calming lilacs mixed with something else, something like the essence of warm milk. "Good, simple, but well prepared. Five points to each of your houses," he said in his usual dark tone. When he returned to his upright state his smile was gone and his face was stony again. Neville thanked Amily, hugging her and assuring her he'd even it out for her. She assured him he didn't have to if he would stop hugging her because she couldn't breathe. Neville ran out of the room, apparently to get to his next class. Amily was the last one in the class aside from Snape.
"Miss Rutherford, stay after for a moment?" Snape said from behind his desk.
"Professor Snape?" she asked nervously. She must have looked quite frightened because Snape's usual harsh tone was far softer than she anticipated.
"I know you chose that potion because it was easy, I know you wanted to use a different one, I saw it the moment I turned the board. If you'd like come back during lunch or your free period this afternoon, you could make a potion on your own," he offered. Amily paused, shocked by the gentleness of the offer and the opportunity he was so easily offering up to her.
"Thank you Professor," she replied with a smile. He gave her a stiff nod, and with that she hurried out of the room. She went on her way to Defence Against the Dark Arts. She sat toward the back of room now, fully intent on imagining away the class. On her right suddenly was Pansy.
"You mind if I sit here?" Pansy asked. Amily nodded, distracted. She took the seat and watched the teacher lazily.
"I, as you all already know am Professor Crozwix, I will be your teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts. First of all we will be reading pages 12 through 37, tomorrow we will practice some of the spells explained therein." Amily flipped open her book to the appropriate page, and proceeded to read what he told them, her mind threatened to abandon the lesson more than once.
"You okay?" Pansy asked.
"Hmm? Why wouldn't I be?" Amily responded quietly.
"I dunno, you look sotra… off," Pansy mused.
"Ladies, would it be too much to ask that you went back to reading?" Professor Crozwix asked coldly from over them. Pansy and Amily flinched and stared back at the book. The class went by uneventfully. When the class ran out there was not a soul in the class that was not complaining, even the teachers' pets from Ravenclaw were irritated by the teacher.
"Hey, Amily- oh" it was Hermione, her eyes darted to Pansy. Amily paused, having expected Hermione of all people to be without prejudice to blood-typing.
"What're you doing Mudblood?" Pansy hissed.
"Pansy!" Amily snapped. Pansy was disarmed, as was Amily. Amily internally apologized to Hermione for her notion and rounded her irritation on Pansy. While she herself had nearly made the slip up, it was clear Pansy was intentionally smearing Hermione's heritage.
"B-but," Pansy mumbled. Amily shook her head and glanced to Hermione; she had a small smile on her face. Amily walked to where she stood, leaving Pansy a confused muddle.
"Hermione, I am so sorry, I had no idea she would be like that," Amily mumbled, scuffing her foot. She anticipated Hermione's irritation at her poor companion decision.
"It's okay," Hermione assured her. "You coming to lunch?" she asked. Amily was disarmed by the response so it took her a moment to recover.
"Err, no, I've got stuff I've got to do for Snape," she replied, studying Hermione's face.
"Ooh, sorry," Hermione replied with a chuckle. "See ya around," she offered. Amily nodded and walked off toward the dungeon, Snape was already there, eating in silence.
"Ummm, Professor?" Amily mumbled. Snape looked up. He took his time chewing and swallowing before responding.
"Ms. Rutherford, you're here to make your potion then?" he asked. Amily nodded. "Go ahead, the ingredients are still up on the board," he said simply, returning to his meal, watching her with eyes that expected her to fail or steal something expensive. Amily, very used to those same expectations, set to work. She took from the shelves about twenty different ingredients and brought them all back to her table. She set out her cauldron and proceeded to add things, chopping this and mashing that. Finally Snape came over to see how her potion was going.
"What are you making?" he asked. Amily did not reply, but pointed to a truth serum in her text, moments later her mind was lost in the careful grinding of the tip of some unicorn's horn.
"That's a bit complicated for your year, isn't it?" he asked.
"I'm a seventh year professor," she replied simply. Not arguing but stating a fact.
"True, but even then, most adults can't succeed with such a potion," he replied. Amily was taken aback.
"…"
"Not to say you're not talented, but I think that's too much for you," he said. His words but like daggers in her back.
"I've got this," she assured him quietly, her nerves jumped as he watched her every move, she could virtually feel his breath on the back of her neck.
"I don't think you're ready for such complicated potions work," he said. The vocal daggers twisted. She snapped around to face him.
"I would be doing a lot better if you weren't breathing down my neck every Merlin blessed moment!" she snapped. She turned away again, shocked once again by her own outbreak. There must have be something in the air around here she thought uneasily to herself. Snape was silent for some time.
The two hour lunch was through its first hour when she finished. Amily backed up a step or two to study it. It was the color the text described, a deep mysterious shade of blue-purple; it had a distinct but undecipherable smell, a good but curious one. She looked up at him and there was a look on his face she had yet to see. Amily bit her lip afraid that she must have done something wrong.
"Professor?" she mumbled, scuffing her foot on the ground. His eyes flicked between the text and the cauldron a few times. The obsidian eyes darted up to her and then back to her potion.
"Amily, do you mind if I call you that?" she nodded, thrilling at her name on his tongue. "Amily, this is amazing, I've never seen anyone of your skill level complete a potion of this caliber," he mused. Though she knew very little about him, she couldn't help but admit internally that this was probably the closest the stony-featured man had ever come to gushing, or affection to a student for that matter. He looked up from the cauldron and into her face. Amily blushed under his approval and looked at his shoes to hide it.
"I-I have to go," Amily mumbled. She turned, grabbed her bag, and hurried out of the room, leaving Snape, both uncertain and bemused, behind her.