ZA: Mahahahahahahhaha!
Crispy: Are you starting with an evil laugh AGAIN?
ZA: But I'm so diabolical.
Crispy: Uh-huh.
ZA: We should force whatsit to do the thingy.
Crispy: Um...could you be a little more specific? About all of that?
ZA: Sir Cadogan should do the disclaimer.
Crispy: Oh. Well then why didn't you say that in the first place?
ZA: Brain fart.
Crispy: Can you say "fart" on ?
ZA: It is rated T. For cheeky behavior.
Crispy: Which we will be addressing in the next chapter, but not this one. Gotcha.
Sir Cadogan: Zsugami Alba does not own Harry Potter. Or my noble steed. Come, Gertrude!
Gertrude: Neigh!
"Speech"
'Thoughts'
Parseltongue
Excerpts from The Book
Chapter 9: Snape's Suspicions
Dumbledore looked up from his copy of Hogwarts: an unabridged history to address the Sorting Hat. "Sassy, is it?"
The hat perked up at the first mention of his name in centuries. "Why yes! Sassafras at your service, Headmaster."
Dumbledore smiled and asked, "Do you have any good pickup lines?"
"Oh, loads of them! Barrels full! My personal favorite is 'If you were a booger, I'd pick you first.' I've not gotten a chance to try it out, but it sounds like a winner."
"Nevermind."
-line break-
"So, Harry," Ron began as the trio walked to Potions class, "I learned this really cool trick while you were gone. I've been waiting to get a really good cold so I can try it out, and I think I've finally picked one up. Wanna see?"
"Ron!" Hermione shot a warning glare. "Nobody wants to see your disgusting trick."
Ron looked affronted. "But my aim has gotten a lot better. I promise it won't land anywhere near you."
Hermione gave him a suspicious look before increasing her pace to put distance between herself and the two boys.
"What's up with her?" Harry asked.
Ron shook his head. "She just has no appreciation for real life skills. I'm telling you it's dead useful."
"You can show me after Potions."
-line break-
"By now, you should have reached the stage where your potion is a light chartreuse," droned Snape from the front of the classroom.
Ron leaned over to Harry and asked, "What's chartreuse?"
"This color, I think," said Harry as he pointed to his own potion. "Well, what do you know? I think I've gotten it right. According to the instructions, we let it simmer for five minutes before adding the zarconian beetle snuff."
Ron looked down at his own cauldron with its gelatinous, orange contents, and said, "I suppose this one's a lost cause. Oh well." Then he brightened. Hey, Harry! Here, hold my wand and watch this!" He took in a deep breath through his nose. Snerk!
"Ron?" Harry said with a panicked expression. "What are you…?"
Phoot! Time seemed to slow dramatically as Harry spotted the wad of mucus heading towards Ron's cauldron. Harry grabbed Hermione and dragged her under the table with a cry of "SNOTROCKET!"
Professor Severus Snape was familiar with the rule, but the ancient Potions Master's handbook that had been handed down through the generations had been vague on what exactly a snotrocket was and how it would affect the Draught of Peace. Nevertheless, he certainly would have preferred more warning than Potter's "SNOTROCKET!" provided. He barely had time to cast a personal shield charm before Weasley's cauldron exploded, raining disgusting, green goop on the entire classroom.
He'd studied the memory several times in the pensieve he'd borrowed from the Headmaster, yet he still could not figure out how Potter had caused this calamity. It had to have been Potter, of course. He and Granger were the only ones who had emerged unscathed. How had the brat done it? Severus sighed as he realized he needed the help of fresh eyes to solve this particular mystery. He would prove Potter's guilt if it was the last thing he did. The horrid goop had proven immune to all cleansing procedures, and all Potions classes had been suspended until the mess was cleared.
Severus, Minerva, and Albus stood around the pensieve in Severus' office. "I'll warn you both that what you are about to see may haunt you for the remainder of your lives. I've never witnessed such a catastrophic event in all my years of teaching."
Minerva rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes, you've been traumatized, and your classroom has been soiled. Do let's get on with it."
Severus nearly pouted. "Very well, let us proceed."
The three professors touched the silvery contents of the pensieve and were whisked away into Severus' memory.
"I know it's Potter's fault," Severus ranted again. "He's the one who shouts the warning. Then he ducks under the table with Granger just in time to avoid contamination. I just can't see what he did."
"Really, Severus," McGonagall chided. "Why are you so sure that Potter is the root of every mishap to befall Hogwarts?"
"Calm down, both of you," said Albus. "Let us view the events and determine the truth for ourselves."
The three turned to survey the scene. It seemed just like any other Potions class. Students were busy with their brewing as Severus watched them all with his trademark disapproval. Suddenly, Potter looked panicked and shouted, "SNOTROCKET!" as he grabbed Granger and ducked under the table. Weasley looked stunned as he was doused with a wave of green goop. The initial explosion then caused a chain reaction of explosions from cauldron to cauldron until the entire class was covered with the vile substance. The memory then froze, and Albus moved toward Memory Severus' position to get a closer look.
"I'm curious, Severus," he said, pointing to the Severus-shaped spot of clean wall behind Memory Severus. "Why is your shield charm not spherical?"
Severus blushed at the evidence of his inferior spellwork. "I only had an instant to react."
Minerva looked smug. "So you panicked?"
Severus' blush actually deepened. "Well, yes."
"I see," said Minerva. "However, what I do not see is Harry Potter causing this mess. I was watching him closely the entire time, and he did nothing until he saw the danger."
"Until he saw the impending danger," corrected Albus.
"Exactly!" cried Severus. "He saw that it was going to happen. How did he know if he wasn't involved?"
"It's quite simple, really," said Albus. "Perhaps if you had focused your attention on Mr. Weasley instead, you might have seen what really happened." He waved his wand and restarted the memory as Minerva and Severus moved closer to the trio's table.
"Here, hold my wand and watch this!" Weasley was saying just before he pressed a finger against his right nostril and expelled the contents of his left nostril right into the center of his own cauldron.
"Ah," said Minerva. "That would explain what a snotrocket is."
"But how did Potter know? How could he have known what would happen?" asked Severus. "I've only seen the term 'snotrocket' in the old Potions Master's handbook that has been passed down from Potions Master to Potions Master since the time of...oh. Hmm...this bears further investigation."
"And a detention for Mr. Weasley," added Minerva. "I'll personally deduct 70 points from Gryffindor for this terrible example of poor judgment."
Snape sat at his ruined desk as he watched Weasley, who was futilely applying a soapy mop to the goopy floor. Suddenly, the door burst open, and a surprisingly clean Draco Malfoy rushed in. "Professor Snape! Uncle Sal has solved our problem!"
Weasley looked up from his mop with a hopeful expression which was soon quashed by Snape's withering glare. He bent over his hopeless task once more.
"Step into my office, Mr. Malfoy," Snape said. Turning to Weasley, he added, "Keep working, Weasley. It's been three hours already, and I'd like to get some sleep tonight."
Once the office door was closed, Draco began again. "Uncle Sal said salt water is the key. It'll eliminate that goop from everything. Of course, he also suggested making the culprit use dry salt. It'll cause the goop to harden and can then be removed with a chisel."
Severus smiled. "Do thank your Uncle Sal for me. I'll send for the salt. In about half an hour."
"Please take a seat, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley," said Snape. "I assure you the substance on them will not transfer to your clothing. It's quite harmless in this form. Normally, I would meet with you in the Headmaster's office, but I must continue to keep an eye on your...son while he finishes his detention."
The two parents looked to Ron as he doggedly chipped away at the crust-covered walls. He appeared to be only a third of the way through the classroom.
"How long has he been at it?" asked Mrs. Weasley.
"It's only been six hours," replied Snape smoothly. "It's going much faster now that the salt has hardened the...product of his misconduct."
Mr. Weasley cleared his throat. "Ahem. Yes, well...we're certainly appalled at our son's recent behavior. Even the twins haven't caused anything this...impressive. I mean, excessive."
Once Weasley had finished half the classroom, Severus dismissed him for the duration of the evening with strict instructions to return immediately after breakfast the following morning.
'Now where did I put that handbook?' Severus thought as he scanned his bookshelves. 'Ah, there it is.' He opened it to the cryptic 'Snotrocket' page and read: "When brewing the Draft of Peace, be sure to avoid the addition of any snotrockets to the concoction. This is vitally important. The resulting fiasco is beyond description."
'Vague words indeed. The handwriting, however, is undoubtedly familiar. How can that be? Perhaps I'm wrong. Comparison of this sample to his most recently submitted essay should prove that once and for all.'
"Good morning, children," said Professor Umbridge in her sickly sweet voice.
"Good morning, Professor Umbridge," the class responded in dull unison.
"Today we shall be reading in chapter 13, so please open your books and - Who are you?"
The entire class turned to see who had caught Umbridge's attention. A stranger was standing in the doorway. He was a tall, scruffy-looking man with long, black hair that he'd woven into a single braid that he draped over his left shoulder. His head was topped with a mass of long, messy bangs. He was wearing rather old fashioned robes, and he looked as though he'd stepped out of one of the thousands of portraits that decorated the halls of Hogwarts.
"Ah!" he said. "You must be Professor...I know it began with a U. Don't help me. I'll remember it in a moment. Unction? No. Unicorn?" He looked Umbridge up and down a moment before continuing. "No, definitely not. Oh! Ulcer! No, that's not it. No, don't tell me!" he cried, holding up his two index fingers and making a chopping motion at Umbridge. "Unabridged? Is that even close? Are some of the letters right? How many?"
"Really, Mister…?" interrupted a very impatient Umbridge.
"I am Professor Salazar Slytherin," the stranger provided helpfully.
"Yes, well...wait, did you say 'Salazar Slytherin'?"
"Yes, congratulations on your excellent hearing!"
"Don't be ridiculous. I can't have strange men barging into my classroom and claiming to be someone who has been deceased for centuries. It's disruptive," Umbridge argued.
Slytherin walked past her to the far window. "Not deceased. Missing. Anyway, let's get some fresh air into this room. The air is positively stifling! Or perhaps that's just you." He pulled out his wand and stood with Umbridge between him and the now open window. "Fore!" he cried as he swung his wand as if it were a golf club and banished the DADA professor right into the outdoors. He rushed to the window and peered out. "Oh! Look at the distance! I do believe she'll land somewhere in the Forbidden Forest. Oh dear. That's a three stroke penalty. I was aiming for the lake. Oh well. I'm sure the centaurs will show her the way out."
Slytherin turned back to face the classroom. Every student was staring at him, most of them with their mouths agape in shock. "50 points to the first student who can identify the sport I just referenced," he declared. "Anyone?" He looked around. After a moment, Draco hesitantly raised his hand. "Yes! You, blonde boy!"
"I believe it was...golf?" answered Draco hesitantly.
"Excellent! 50 points to...Slytherin? Excellent. Now what do you all say to practicing a spell or two?"
"That was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts class I've ever been to!" raved Ron to the twins as he dug into his lunch. "That Slytherin guy actually chucked Umbridge out the window and into the Forbidden Forest! It was so cool!"
"Really, Ron," Hermione said, looking uncomfortable. "I'm not sure we should be celebrating so soon. This can't be the last we've seen of her, and we don't know who this Slytherin guy really is. He can't be the founder."
"Calm down, Hermione," scoffed Ron. "Have you seen the hourglasses? All those points he awarded actually registered in the system."
"You're only praising him because he awarded you 50 points for saying 'Excuse me' after you belched."
"Don't forget the extra 20 points for excellent tone," Ron reminded her. He grinned at the twins, who looked as though they couldn't wait to meet Hogwarts' newest - or perhaps oldest professor.
Harry looked glum. "I can't believe I missed it. What a time to get explosive diarrhea."
Hermione squinted at him. "Don't you mean dysentery?"
"Don't be silly, Hermione. Dysentery lasts longer than one hour," Harry replied as he helped himself to a sandwich.
"Still," Hermione continued, "It would have been helpful if you'd been there. You could've confirmed whether or not he really is Salazar Slytherin."
Harry thought for a moment. "Hmm...describe him to me."
"Well," Hermione began, "He was really scruffy looking…"
"You mean 'rugged'?" Harry interrupted.
"And he had these ridiculously long bangs…"
"You mean fashionably ruffled?"
"And really old-looking robes…"
"You mean classically styled?"
"Oh, honestly, Harry! Would you please stop interrupting?" Hermione huffed.
"Well, if he's really as cool as you say, he must be the real deal," declared Harry.
"Professor Slytherin?"
"Yes, Thing 1?"
"What would happen if you added a couple of drops of…" Fred Weasley looked down at the container in his hand, "...nitroglycerin to an infusion of wormwood?"
Slytherin looked more than a little intrigued. "I don't know. You probably shouldn't attempt such a thing without adult supervision."
The twin looked disappointed. "However," added the professor, "the class does need to brush up on their shield charms. I think I've got a cauldron stashed somewhere in my office. Won't take a moment." The two Weasleys grinned at each other as Slytherin disappeared into his office.
Ten minutes later, the aforementioned cauldron was suspended over a cheery fire that blazed in the middle of the room. Slytherin addressed the class, "Everyone have their wands ready?" The class nodded. He turned to George and said, "All right, Thing 2, you may proceed on my mark. One...two...three!" George let three drops fall into the cauldron and BOOM!
Severus Snape was on his way to confront the new DADA professor he'd heard his students raving about. 'If it really is Salazar Slytherin - and I don't believe that for a moment, then I'll finally be able to prove my theory' he thought. 'Just one more turn to the right, and the DADA classroom will be at the end of the -' BOOM!
Severus turned the corner just in time to see the door to the DADA classroom fly across the hall and crush a suit of armor. "What in the name of...?" He rushed to the now empty door frame to assess the situation. Inside, the entire class was standing behind an array of personal shield charms and grinning at each other. All of the desks had been pushed against the walls, and three figures wearing muggle safety goggles stood next to the smoking remains of what must have been a cauldron. Shrapnel was embedded in various places around the room, in walls, the floor, the chalkboard….
"What," Severus began, "in the name of Salazar Slytherin happened here?"
The tallest figure pulled his goggles down around his neck. "Funny you should use those words. I am Salazar Slytherin. We were just practicing our shield charms."
Snape raised one eyebrow. "It looks as if you've been attempting to brew a potion. In the DADA classroom, no less."
Slytherin shrugged. "Well, not exactly. We were just testing the interactive properties of a foreign ingredient. Everyone is perfectly fine. Aren't you, class?" Everyone nodded. "Ten points for each limb still attached to its owner!" The class cheered, though one boy looked a bit deflated. "And ten extra points to Smith for the quick recovery of his leg." The boy brightened as he proudly held up his artificial leg. "Well, I think that's all for today. Class dismissed. Go have fun, and don't try that at home."
Severus watched in mild disbelief as the students filed out of the classroom. He turned to face Slytherin, who was disappearing into his office. Severus hurried to catch up with him. "Professor Slytherin!" he called.
"Yes, Professor Snape?" the strange man replied. "Can I help you with something?"
"Oh, I believe you can...Potter."
Slytherin froze for a moment. "Potter? I'm afraid I'm just a humble Hogwarts professor. I don't know the first thing about pottery." He smiled vacantly as he hung his outer robe on a piece of cauldron that was protruding through the door. "Quite handy! I think I'll keep that right there. It adds character to the room."
Severus would not be easily distracted. "I don't know how you did it, but your reaction to the name Potter tells me I'm right. You are Harry Potter. You're handwriting gives you away." He held out his Potions Master manual and Harry's essay on the properties of flobberworm mucus.
"Ah, yes," sighed Slytherin. "But only when I'm not Salazar Slytherin. Thirty points to Slytherin for excellent detective work."
"I'm not a student," Snape pointed out.
"Yet you are still learning, are you not?" asked Slytherin. Severus just glared at him. "Oh, very well." Slytherin waved his wand over himself and morphed into the familiar bane of Severus' existence. "I'm doing the school a favor, you know. Umbridge's teaching methods were worse than her fashion sense."
"Obviously," agreed Severus. "How are you managing to teach all of her classes and attend your own as Harry Potter?"
"I found a time turner when I was tossing out her things. It was hidden behind a framed photo of Minister Fudge." Potter shuddered. "It had lipstick prints on it." Severus shuddered, too. "At first I thought I would have to disappear so that Slytherin could take over, but now I have a carefully planned out schedule - including naps!"
Severus held out his hand. "Let me see it."
Harry looked reluctant, but eventually caved. He reached into the top drawer and pulled out a roll of parchment. Severus took it and read it over. "Where on here have you scheduled your lesson planning?"
"After so many years of teaching, I can just wing it. Who needs a syllabus? I believe this particular subject requires a more fluid approach."
Severus sighed. Potter's propensity for troublemaking was exceeding even his high expectations.
