A/N: Aaaah! Hello new followers and readers! I'm glad I've attracted some of your attention.

Fun fact: I just finished rereading the Philosopher's Stone and the trio had studied how to make the Forgetfulness potion for their end of the year exams...I thought it was a little funny. Anyways.

Also, I feel as though as I should say that I am from Wisconsin so I am sure I write with "American Tendencies". With that in mind, if anyone wants to Brit pick for me or point out my errors, feel free!


And then there was Snape.

Of course, he'd been a right git but that's how his personality comes off, right? He's not the most friendliest of men to the normal eye. Once you get past that—far, far past that outer exterior—Severus Snape is a wonderful, brave man.

Unfortunately, Meara was not able to experience this version of her professor several years down the road.

He had been there at the lake when Meara was first found and he had given her his outer cloak, which she remembered she hadn't given back for quite some time. The next time Meara had seen Snape was in a first year potions lab. No doubt the other professors were unsure of Meara's abilities so McGonagall steered Meara into this specific class.

Meara chuckled. Many wizards were arrogant in that way; they all thought any creatures without a wand were stupid. Really, beneath the Black Lake there was a prosperous society. Many of the creatures were quite knowledgeable. The mermaids and merrows would study the aquatic life around them—plants, fish, microorganisms—and even strived to learn about the world above. So, if anything was remotely close to the shore, they would study it.

Although this specific lesson had been the worst Meara could ever recall, she would still look back on the memory with fondness. After all, this night was the beginning to quite the relationship.


Although Meara had only been on the school grounds for a week, she'd already heard rumors and stories about he Potions Master; none of them were ever good. He was a greasy git, the giant bat of the dungeons, and an unforgiving bastard. That's what many of Bill's friends and classmates said, anyways.

Upon entering the dungeons, Meara noticed a shift in her subconscious from a light happy tone to quite the softened, heavy rumble. Trying to ignore it, Meara found an empty seat, which was, unfortunately for her, towards the front of the room. There was a light murmur of students chatting until the door in back swung shut with a loud rumbling bang and their professor came to the front of the room, with his layers of black robes billowing behind him in ominous waves. He laced his fingers and leaned lightly against the podium at his side.

The entire class stared straight forward, barely even making a sound as he looked over them for a moment. In the silence, Meara shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

Professor Snape noticed.

It was then she realized that he was the man who also found her at the lake and had given her his warm cloak.

She gave a small smile, which he did not reciprocate.

"In order to pass this class, you must be able to brew the most simplest of potions. Exams are less than a month away. If any of you manage today without disaster, there may be hope yet." He said with a sneer. "But then again," he started his gaze around the room at his students and said, "I wont set my hopes high."

Meara frowned deeper and the rumble in her head formed into an angry thunderous roll, almost like the end of a symphony finale; it built up louder and louder, increasing the tension with each passing second.

"Page one hundred eleven. You have until the end of class to put a correct vial on my desk.." A few of the students started to slowly rummage through their books to the right page, while the others started back blankly. "It would be wise to start. Now."

At that, the younger students started to scramble about, back and forth from the cabinets to their cauldron, to their book and to the cauldron, and so on.

Meara, on the other hand, walked to an empty cauldron and opened her book. At the top of the page, in bold letters it was written "FORGETFULLNESS". As she looked down the list of ingredients, they seemed as simple as the title of the potion.

She gathered her necessary ingredients—various herbs, flower roots, and a Jobberknoll feather—and started to prepare her cauldron. As she started to grind the roots with the mortar and pestle, she could hear the dark growl summersault into a slow but uplifting chorale. It's simple phrases and progressions urged her along in the brewing process.

She let the music rising in her head guide the movements of her hands. All the other movements of those around her soon became muffled as she was solely focused on finishing the potion. Some of her actions followed the directions of the potion book while others were simply lead by her instinct and the knowledge of her species.

Contrary to what the book said, Meara started to pluck small wisps of the feather off the Jobberknoll quill. Little by little, she began to add the wisps of the feather into her cauldron.

"What do you think you are doing, Miss Merrow?" She heard her professor sharply growl from behind her.

Being jerked out of her state of focus, Meara let out a small surprised gasp and the encouraging melody in her head died to a sudden halt. She looked over her shoulder to see his face wearing a deep frown, clearly scrutinizing her every move.

"I was just adding Jobberknoll feather, Sir."

"That is not how the book instructs you." He stepped closer to take a glance in her cauldron. She could not read any expression on Professor Snape's face as he looked in. His eyes squinted and his thin lips pulled tighter across his face. He leaned back to her side once more. A moment passed between the two and Meara was disappointed then that all she could hear in her head was the rushing of blood as her heart continued to nervously stutter.

Snape leaned in closer to Meara but did not lower his voice to whisper. "I do not accept cheating in my classroom, Miss Doe."

"What?" Meara's eyes shot up to Professor Snape's face.

"Who is helping you?" Snape's eyes shifted to the students beside her. Clearly it wasn't them as their cauldrons were smoking orange fumes and smelled putrid.

"Sir, I—"

"Did you think I wouldn't notice? Do you think me stupid?"

"Sir, I DID NOT cheat!" Meara threw her stirring rod onto the table and it clattered to a halt with a forceful 'clang'.

Meara's outburst caused the room to go still, including Snape.

"Detention, Miss Doe, for a week. I do not tolerate cheaters or liars."

"I would never cheat, Sir, I—"

"You are dismissed from my classroom." Snape ended with a sour growl. "Put everything away and leave."

Meara frowned and bowed her head. She was furious that he would ever accuse her of such a thing. As she was packing up, Meara heard Snape yell to the rest of the class, "Get back to work!"

When finished putting everything away, Meara started to walk out the door. On her way out, Snape called out, "Miss Doe."

Meara turned around with a bitter scowl.

"Return tonight at seven. Do not be late." Snape waved Meara away with one hand. Now leave."