Chapter Three: Student Victim/Junior Potioneer Number 2 (Ravenclaw)
"Um, Terry, mate?"
Terry Boot had been sitting innocently in the Ravenclaw Common Room, minding his own business, and once again reading Quidditch Through the Ages. He'd been the first to check it out for the year for three years running. It had almost been a near miss this year, and he'd barely managed to get it out from under Bulstrode's hefty fist without detection. He had, however, successfully distracted her with a well-placed Chocolate Frog strategically positioned right at the end of the aisle, and she was none the wiser. Well, maybe she had been on to him because he might have heard her dulcet tones cursing his very existence. It was admittedly hard to miss, 'Damn you, Boot, you'll rue the day your Muggle arse was ever born!' and the ensuing kerfluffle with Madam Pince kicking them both out of the library- but whatever, right?
Terry looked up to see his best friend Michael Corner distractedly run a hand through his dark hair.
"Yeah?"
"Ah, um, nice weather we're having, eh? I mean, good for Quidditch and all, right?"
"Did Cho dump you or something, mate?"
"No! Nothing like that! We're good. You've not heard anything have you?"
Michael's awkward behavior suddenly turned serious as he contemplated the idea that Cho might have dumped him via strategically placed rumors with his friends.
"No. Marrietta definitely would've mentioned something when she came through, if that was the case."
Michael betrayed his relief and let out a sigh.
"Well, that's alright then. Had me worried there, Terry."
"So –"
Terry was giving Michael the opportunity to say what he needed to say, and he was beginning to get one of those weird feelings that he wouldn't like whatever it was he was about to hear.
"So, you know our study group?"
Terry paused to ponder Michael's query. Did he, Terry Boot, know of their study group? The study group they had been in together, along with Mandy Brocklehurst, Anthony Goldstein, Su Li, and Morag McDougal, which had got them all successfully through their O.W.L.s? The study group that consisted of approximately half of their year group in Ravenclaw? There were only two study groups in Ravenclaw that Terry could opt to be part of- the only other one consisting of the other half of the sixth year Ravenclaws. As there were no mixed year study-groups, it was either study with the two established groups or study alone. And as it was a cardinal sin of Ravenclaw House to study alone, one studied in the established groups- and one didn't switch groups once the commitment was made. That study group?
"I might have heard tell of such an organization."
"Right. Well, the girls, well, mostly Morag, but Su too- they sort-of-blame-you-for-their-E-in-Potions."
The hell they did! Terry wasn't daft, he'd heard Michael right the first time. However, he had a terrible feeling he knew what was coming next.
"Sorry, Michael, I missed that last part."
"They blame you for getting an E on their Potions O.W.L.s. Morag is convinced that you slacked off on helping them out, because it was your job to share your revisions with the rest of us."
"But I got an O on my Potions O.W.L.! They had the same information I did."
"Well, I know that, Terry. However, you know how girls can get. They think it looks fishy. They had a whole litany of complaints about your study habits actually. Said you just wanted them to look bad."
"And you defended me to them, right?"
Michael looked a bit awkward and ashamed.
"Right, Michael?"
"Er, well, their itemized list of complaints might have had a few valid points. I mean- not that I think you purposefully tried anything- that's just not you."
Quidditch Through the Ages was definitely the worse for wear, as Terry gripped the revered tome roughly enough to crease the spine.
"You're not serious."
Michael looked even more awkward.
"Look, Terry. The girls are just a bit miffed at you, but even you have to admit that you insist we take too many study breaks."
Michael handed Terry a bit of parchment, which he hesitantly took.
"This is a pie chart showing how many times I allegedly made us take breaks last term as compared to the other study groups," Terry said in a monotone voice.
Michael's face had turned a shade of very embarrassed red, and Terry only thought that Michael's humiliation wasn't nearly enough to compensate for the inanity he was being put through at the moment. His embarrassment didn't stop Michael from silently handing Terry another piece of parchment.
"These are informal poll results in bar graph form showing how all of the fifth year Ravenclaws performed on their Potions O.W.L.s," Terry said emotionlessly.
Michael pointed at the last.
"And as you can see, Terry, the others consistently scored higher than those of us in our study group. In fact, you're the only one who achieved an O in Potions from our group. The rest of us got E's. There is definitely enough evidence to assume a correlation."
"Michael, I'm disappointed, and I'm not simply talking about your egregious usage of a logical fallacy in your argument. You, of all people, should know that correlation does not imply causation."
"Well, we're not convinced that all is merely coincidence, Terry," Michael said sadly.
"Well, we can go fuck ourselves!" Terry yelled loudly as he spied Su and Morag, attempting to hide back toward the staircase.
He felt eyes on the other side of him, and turned to see Anthony and Mandy looking nervous but determined.
Whatever Michael had to say in response was drowned out by Su Li's righteous indignation.
"My graphs and charts do not lie, Terry Boot!"
"They're rubbish pseudoscience! You misuse statistics for your own twisted ends! For shame!"
"And you continually hide behind your Muggle doublespeak to absolve yourself of any guilt! 'Look at me, I'm Terry Boot, Mr. I don't know a thing about Wizardry- but I'm all about logic and science' himself! All the while, playing us for fools. A clever ruse, Boot! I should have known it was all a front for you to attain a higher grade point average than the rest of us, whilst hiding your true intentions behind a façade of ignorance!" Morag passionately opined.
Terry rounded on Anthony and Mandy and looked at them speculatively.
"I suppose you agree with these outrageous accusations?"
Anthony nervously took off his spectacles and pretended to clean them on the hem of his robes.
"Was really needing an O for my career aspirations," Anthony mumbled.
Mandy started biting her cuticles.
"My academic self-esteem has taken a nosedive," Mandy added quietly.
Neither could look him the eye. He turned back to Michael in betrayal.
"Terry, obviously we all need a little break. Temporary mind!" Michael hastily added, at seeing Terry's incredulous expression. "Study groups only thrive on trust, peacefulness, and a complete lack of anxiety pervading the energy we create together."
"You can't even use your own words to kick me out of the study group, Michael! That sounds suspiciously like some rubbish Su would write down and have you memorize!" Terry yelled at his now former best friend.
"It's not rubbish!" Su yelled. "My parents told me that I brought shame to the family! They said that no daughter of theirs was an academic slacker. They even- once again- compared me to my perfect brother, the St. Mungo's Healer!"
The entire population of the Ravenclaw Common Room, who hadn't made any secret of the fact that they were all shamelessly eavesdropping, gasped in sympathy with Su Li. Morag even patted her consolingly on the arm.
"There, there, Su. We've all suffered because of Terry's thoughtlessness."
Michael apparently steeled his resolve as he handed Terry yet another piece of parchment.
"This is a note from Flitwick saying that I'm officially out of the study group for this term, but according to Ravenclaw Rules, I have the opportunity for rebuttal- at which point my admittance back into the group will be reviewed," Terry stated dryly.
"See? It's not permanent. We'll see you next term, yeah?" Michael said with false cheerfulness.
Terry immediately decided that ignoring the lot of them would serve him well until he could get his rebuttal together. Perhaps he could even join the other group? Exceptions had been made before. Terry looked over near the fireplace, where Padma Patil's group usually studied, only to find that every single last one of them was refusing to make eye contact with him. Well, that was telling. So, it was the Lovegood treatment for him now, was it?
Speaking of, ah, yes, there she was. Luna smiled beatifically and waved at him, her blonde hair making her look like a dotty angel.
"The Rotfang Conspiracy has finally come to Hogwarts. So far, you and I are the only ones not affected here in Ravenclaw Tower," Luna said calmly.
Well a good rebuttal was apparently his only hope then. Unfortunately, this meant only one thing. Terry Boot had to go see Professor Snape.
He had the three damning pieces of parchment in his hand, and he'd definitely need them, as well as whatever charm he possessed to get Snape to agree to an impromptu meeting.
Professor Snape didn't enjoy surprises, Terry knew. Many a Ravenclaw had been soundly thrown out of his office for daring to show up without an appointment. It also usually involved a loss of house points and a detention. However, Terry was desperate. There was no way he was going to spend the rest of his time at Hogwarts with Luna Lovegood as his only study companion, fellow DA member or not.
As Terry descended down into the dungeons, he felt the cold chill his bones. It was an ominous feeling of doom that he felt foolish for not heeding. He stopped in front of Snape's office door and continued to stand there. He would not be daunted though- Terry would have a decent rebuttal even if it killed him- which was very likely if Snape was involved. So, why was he hesitating? Because he wasn't a bloody Gryffindor, that was why.
Terry began mumbling to himself.
"See, Professor, it's like this. I've always admired your teaching techniques. I find them very straightforward. No. No, that's laying it on a bit thick. He won't buy it. Hmm. Perhaps –"
"Perhaps you should just knock on the door and quit stalling," a passing Slytherin said and then snickered. "Here, I'll help you out."
The seventh year boy loudly pounded on Snape's office door before taking off running down the hall, leaving Terry to deal with the consequences. If Snape hated Ravenclaws who showed up sans appointments, he definitely couldn't stand Ravenclaws who tried to pound his door down.
Snape's door flew open and the very next moment, Terry had a very irate looking DADA professor staring him down.
"Well, if it isn't Mister Boot come to call," Snape said silkily.
This was certainly not the start to a decent conversation, in Terry's estimation.
"Not only do you not have an appointment, you've disturbed an important religious ritual."
This was even worse. While not being particularly religious himself, Terry was always cognizant of the religious practices of those among his friends and acquaintances. He rather prided himself on his tolerance, and if he had inadvertently offended Snape, then the man would never agree to help him out.
Terry stopped to ponder what the religious ritual could possibly be. He didn't recall any Christian holidays today, it wasn't Ramadan or Eid, Anthony would have mentioned any Jewish holidays of significance, no Hindu festivals were occurring, and Snape didn't have any Zen vibes about him. Perhaps Snape was some sort of Orthodox observer of the Sabbath? Perhaps he was Jewish, after all?
"Shabbat Shalom, Professor," Terry said with false enthusiasm.
Snape snorted.
"Wrong religion, Mister Boot. I'm afraid that you've interrupted a perfectly good summoning of Angra Mainyu."
Snape had said this as if Terry should have known who or what Angra Mainyu was.
"Er –"
Snape tutted disapprovingly at Terry's ignorance.
"Ahura Mazda's nemesis in the Zoroastrian religion," Snape informed him.
"You're Zoroastrian, Professor?" Terry asked disbelievingly.
"Hardly. I'm more like an anti-Zoroastrian, if anything. However, I'm sure Angra Mainyu wouldn't mind a human sacrifice. You'll do."
With that, Snape opened the door and motioned Terry inside. It figured that Snape would be the Zoroastrian equivalent of a Satanist. He followed Snape inside anyway.
Terry's first thought was that Snape was simply being sarcastic and that he was being gullible, however, everyone knew that Snape didn't joke. It was always best just to stick with the horrible possibility that the man was always being literal.
Snape motioned Terry to the empty chair on the other side of his desk that he reserved for students. Terry warily looked at the chair before gingerly perching on the edge. Being ready to make his escape if need be was paramount in situations such as this.
Snape didn't round the desk to go sit in his own chair. No. The man insolently leaned back on the corner of the desk and crossed his arms as he stared Terry down. Overall, Terry assessed the situation as being not good and disconcerting in the extreme.
"Well?"
The question was posed with much disdain and impatience, and was immediately followed by the famous Snape Eyebrow Lift™. Terry blanched. Then he remembered that this one uncomfortable meeting with Snape was the price he had to pay in order to avoid social death in Ravenclaw Tower- forever in the company of Luna Lovegood. As much as it pained Terry, he would have to find his inner Gryffindor quickly. He could do the Granger thing- but that was as far as he was willing to go. Blunt truthfulness would have to do.
"I need your help, Professor."
"I gathered that much, Mister Boot. Need I remind you that you're wasting my valuable time? This had better be good or you'll regret it, I assure you."
Of that, Terry had absolutely no doubt.
"I was kicked out of my study group."
"Pity."
Snape definitely sounded as if he couldn't care less. The indifference the man displayed to Terry's plight was staggering, really. Other Professors would at least pretend to care.
"I was hoping you could help me with my rebuttal so that I can be allowed back into the group, sir."
"It may have escaped your notice, Mister Boot, but my name is not Filius Flitwick, nor am I the Head of Ravenclaw House."
Being pleasant to Snape was proving to be more difficult than Terry had ever imagined. He could finally see where Potter was coming from. He had to plough on though.
"Professor Flitwick won't help me in this, seeing as he was the one who made my break from the group official, sir."
Snape actually sported an incredulous look on his face before responding.
"If you think I'll gainsay your own Head of House, Mister Boot, then you're obviously Confunded."
"It's because I made an O on my Potions O.W.L.. They think I held back on them and caused them all to get Es."
"Once again, Mister Boot, you've obviously come to the wrong person. Not only do I not care, I no longer teach Potions. How these facts eluded your detection is beyond me, but Professor Slughorn now teaches the subject. It would be advantageous to speak with him."
Terry was very frustrated and it showed.
"I need a rebuttal with substance, sir! Professor Slughorn doesn't know all of us yet. You know exactly how we all were in Potions. I could really use your help, sir! Please."
"Enough!"
Snape had the look he usually sported when he was ready to dish out detention and Terry steeled himself accordingly. Nobody could say that he didn't give it an effort. He sighed in defeat.
By this point, Snape had uncrossed his arms and had brought one hand down on the desk to drum his fingers in annoyance. However, the motion disturbed a very girly and very hideous looking diary that was sitting on the edge. Terry saw Snape glance down at the diary. It was not his imagination that Snape's expression abruptly changed from vexed to blank, and then to an oily and frankly evil smile in less than two seconds.
"Hmm. Yes- you did make an O on your Potions O.W.L., didn't you?"
This was beyond frightening. Terry didn't think there was a good answer to Snape's rhetorical question.
"Professor?" Terry warily asked.
"Would you care for tea, Mister Boot?"
Snape was suddenly all smiles and the very model of a Professor who loved chatting with diligent students. Snape didn't wait for Terry to answer.
"Winky! Bring tea for Mister Boot and myself."
By the time the house-elf had appeared with a hiccup and the tea and placed it on the table and promptly vanished, Snape had rounded his desk to sit demurely in his chair on the other side. Terry made a split second decision. If Snape politely asked him how he took his tea, then he was out of there.
Snape poured himself a cup of tea and began drinking it. He looked at Terry.
"If you think I'm going to pour your tea for you, Mister Boot, think again."
This Snape, Terry could deal with. They were firmly back in familiar territory, thank Merlin. Terry hesitantly poured himself a cup of tea and it was only when he took a sip that Snape spoke to him again.
"Terry. May I call you Terry?" Snape asked politely.
Terry was sure he had just scalded his throat. It had been either that or spit tea everywhere.
"Er –"
"Excellent. Perhaps I was slightly hasty before. What I meant to say earlier was that I, of course, am willing to help out my students. Especially students who have the predisposition for the fine art that is Potion making. That's really the trouble isn't it? A young man of your caliber, Terry, can hardly lower his standards when studying with those who- Just. Don't. Understand."
"Um –"
"Tsk! I know. I'd say they're railroading you considering with Professor Slughorn around they all get to take N.E.W.T. level Potions anyway. I'll be more than happy to help you. I'll even do you one better. I'll send a letter to Professor Flitwick and clear this whole misunderstanding up for you straight away."
That sounded distinctly like decency to Terry, and everyone knew Snape didn't do decent, which meant the man couldn't possibly be sincere. But who really understood the mind of Snape? He had no choice but to go with it.
"Thank you, sir! That'd be fantastic. That, plus my rebuttal should do the trick. You won't regret doing this."
Snape still had a very pleasant smile plastered to his face that he quickly dropped in place of a sneer.
"I know I won't. However, if you think I'm doing this out of the kindness of my heart, Mister Boot, then you really are a dunderhead."
"Professor?"
"I'll do this for you, if you do something for me in exchange."
At Terry's horrified expression, Snape snorted disdainfully.
"I find myself in need of a marginally competent student assistant to help grade essays for the younger years every Tuesday evening from six to nine here in my office."
Terry immediately sighed in relief.
"I think I can do that, sir."
Immediately Snape pushed a piece of parchment across the table to Terry.
"Also, I'll need you to sign this piece of parchment here, if you don't mind."
"The Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers? But why?"
This was extremely confusing. What was Snape playing at? Terry didn't really care for Potions. He just excelled at it.
"Just sign the parchment, Mister Boot. Think of it as something that will look good on a resume."
Snape thrust a quill into his hand, which Terry contemplated. Now that Snape was giving him what he wanted he was stalling. There was something strange going on here, but Terry was at a loss to explain it.
"This is a quality quill you've got here, Professor. One hardly encounters such quality writing implements in this day and age. Few would spend the galleons –"
"How is Miss Lovegood these days?" Snape queried in a perfectly polite tone of voice, accompanied by what Terry would have said was a sincere smile on anyone else.
"Quite well, sir. For Lovegood, I mean."
"Indeed? Do send her my regards when you return to Ravenclaw Tower, would you?"
"Of course, Professor."
Message received. Terry immediately signed the parchment without further ado. Snape didn't miss a beat and immediately sported a shark-like smirk on his face.
"And yes, the quill is rather impressive, isn't it? If nothing else, Professor Umbridge certainly knew all about quality writing supplies."
"Oh. That's, er, fantastic, Professor. Ah, well, the time. It's ah- moving forward- and I really must be going. Thanks for the tea, sir!"
Terry anxiously glanced at his hand just to be sure. He didn't feel any pain, but you never knew with Snape. He played it off by quickly running his hand through his short brown hair. He couldn't afford to show weaknesses here- he was going to be the man's student assistant, after all. As Terry was hastily fleeing Snape's office, he could have sworn he heard a bark of laughter.