Harry hated Mr. Sevilitee. He would have been quite willing to learn the Unforgivables, as long as he could practice on the loathsome little man.
In his more mature moments, Harry realized that his intense dislike of the man was probably a touch unreasonable. Though a bit too prim and proper, the man wasn't unkind. He was always polite, and often made little jokes to emphasize certain points of Harry's lessons. Nevertheless, whenever the man entered the room, Harry was struck by an overpowering urge to set him on fire.
It probably was due to the fact that the man had responded to Harry's statement that he had been kidnapped with, "Don't be silly. I'm sure you and your guardian—such a nice man!—are just having a little misunderstanding. Now, this fork is only used with shellfish."
"I know it's a bit overwhelming, Harry, but when in doubt, observe and copy your host. Truly, you are a fortunate young man, to have found a place in such an illustrious family. I'm sure that you'll fit right in, once you've practiced." The man gave Harry one of his happy smiles. Though the man had seemingly memorized every obscure etiquette rule since the 17th century, Harry thought he was way too happy to be entirely right in the head.
Scowling, Harry returned his attention to the row of silverware in front of him, only to feel his legs glued to the legs of his chair. Not even bothering to struggle, he tossed the shrimp fork onto the desk and waited. A few moments later, Voldemort swept into the room and seated himself, dismissing the tutor with a nod. Harry idly wondered if Snape had learned his dramatic entrances from Voldemort.
"Mr. Sevilitee tells me you are progressing nicely."
Harry nodded warily. Voldemort had to know that he had tried to get the tutor to get him out of here, or at least send a message. However, Voldemort pretended ignorance. The few times they had met over the last week, it had been over elaborate meals so Harry could practice his new manners and Voldemort could check his progress. The smug bastard flatly refused to discuss anything more important than the history of the soupspoon.
"You OWLs are coming up this year. Though I understand that your education has been…frequently disrupted, we shall make up for that now. I have arranged for a 6th year Ravenclaw to tutor you and a few other children your age."
Harry gaped. Children? What kind of parents would send their kids to the Dark Lord's house for a study group! I know they're his minions, but still…
Voldemort continued, what passed for warmth leaving his tone, "You will dress and behave appropriately, or you will spend the semester here, and not at Hogwarts."
Harry bit back a defiant retort and nodded. Eye on the prize, he reminded himself.
"Your new friends," Harry grimaced, but remained silent as Voldemort spoke, "will be arriving in two hours. Make certain you are ready."
"Yes, sir," he muttered.
Exactly two hours later, Harry was prepared. In fact, he'd been ready for well over an hour, driven by sheer boredom.
§ Is young master being ready? § a small voice asked. He whirled towards the sound, only to jump back from a small, mutant house-elf…thing. It was shaped like a house-elf, but was covered in mottled green-brown scales. It was wearing a leather jerkin and small belt, from which hung a pair of sheathed knives.
§ Young master? § it asked again, forked tongue flickering from a mouth full of needle-like teeth. It frowned, flicking its tongue quite deliberately. It's smelling me, Harry realized. Just like a snake. The elf gestured at Harry's books, which floated obediently behind the elf. § Young master does not need to be afraid. Sesphie will protect young Master. § It reached out, gently petting his arm with one scaly hand, its strange eyes filled with adoration.
§ Er…thanks, Sesphie, § he said. The house-elf smiled at him, then turned towards the door that had emerged. Harry followed it, searching the hallway with curiosity. This place is crazier than Hogwarts, he thought. He'd only been allowed out of this room once since he'd arrived, and that had been to attend Voldemort's little Death Eater party. Then, the door to his room had been directly facing the entrance to the dining hall. This time, however, and Sesphie had emerged onto a whimsically beautiful hallway. The flagstones of the floor and walls were a pristine eggshell color, the perfect setting for the beautiful mosaics set in the walls. The mosaics were thousands of miniscule chips of stone, and precious and semi-precious gems. Each portrayed a different serpentine creature. He recognized runespoors and ashwinders from his lessons with Hagrid, and the Hydra from reading Greek myths in school. Unlike the hideous painting that one of the Death Eaters had brought, there were no scenes of death or violence.
Harry could have looked at the mosaics for hours, has Sesphie not gently prodded him along. Clearing his throat nervously, Harry commented, § You're dressed differently from the other house-elves I've met. §
Sesphie nodded, tail lashing behind it as it marched importantly towards their destination. § We is being Lord Slytherin's liege-elves. Sesphie is being the young master's guard elf. Sesphie is brave and fierce! § It touched the pair of knives, baring its teeth at some imaginary threat. Harry nodded, trying to appear appropriately impressed.
§ We is arrived. Young master is studying hard and using all of his smartness. § The elf's tone was stern, and Harry quickly nodded. The door swung open and Harry entered the room, his books floating behind him.
The large windows were frosted glass, filling the room with soft, plentiful life. Six large desks had been arranged in a semi-circle facing an enormous blackboard. A tall, skinny boy with glasses was sifting through a stack of volumes.
"Er, hi," Harry said, feeling suddenly very nervous. The young man gave Harry a brief, polite smile. "Hello, Potter. I'm Eddie Carmichael. Ravenclaw, 6th year."
Harry's books settled themselves on a desk. "Well, I guess that's where I'm sitting," he said with a nervous laugh. "Who else is coming?"
"Parkinson, Crabbe, Goyle, Malfoy, and Bulstrode." Harry grimaced. "Give them a chance, Potter. Once you get out of Hogwarts and away from all of that inter-House drama, almost anyone will be a lot less annoying."
"If you say so," Harry said dubiously. He sat at his desk, idly opening the drawers and examining the contents. Rolls of parchment, high quality quills, and several leather-bound notebooks. Opening one labeled Potions Journal, he thumbed through the pages, noting the lettered tabs. Hearing voices, he glanced up. Draco Malfoy paused in the doorway, looking decidedly uncomfortable. He eyed Harry, looking caught between smirking and turning up his nose.
Family isn't destiny, Harry told himself firmly. With that in mind, he gave the other boy a polite smile. "Hi, Malfoy."
Malfoy looked briefly surprised, then gave Harry a polite nod. He scanned the room and, obviously coming to an important decision, placed his books on the desk to Harry's right. "Er…is this seat taken?"
"Naw. I'll just tell my imaginary friend to move." Draco laughed weakly and sat down.
The two boys sat in an uncomfortable silence, watching as Carmichael continued to flip through books and make notes on a long scroll.
"So, Potter…my father says he expects me to make nice."
"Really?"
"Actually, he said, 'Draco, you are being blessed with a second and last opportunity to rectify your abominable first impression on Mr. Potter. I shall be very displeased if you waste it.'" Draco said in a snooty tone, his nose turned up. Despite the other boy's levity, Harry could sense anxiety. He shuddered to think what Mr. Malfoy might do if he were 'very displeased'.
"Well, I've been told that if I don't behave myself, there will be 'dire consequences'." He didn't want to tell Malfoy about Voldemort's threat to keep him from Hogwarts; Malfoy might decide to sabotage his efforts. Anxious or not, he was a spoiled brat. "So, if anybody asks, we're getting along smashingly. And my manners have improved vastly." Harry heaved a put-upon sigh.
"Deal." Draco smirked at him. "I'm trying out for Chaser this year. I've grown a bit too tall for a Seeker. Lucky you; you're still so…petite. You'll probably be small enough to play Seeker until 7th year."
"Chaser, huh? Should be good for you. You've been needing a change of pace," Harry returned with a sharp smile. Draco acknowledged his score with a twitch of an eyebrow.
The rest of the Slytherins finally arrived. Goyle and Crabbe acknowledged him with nods, while Pansy gave Harry a bright, wholly insincere smile. Bulstrode's look was coolly assessing. Despite her thug-like build, she was quite sharp. Pansy immediately claimed the seat on Harry's left. Goyle and Crabbe seated themselves in the two seats to Draco's right. Bulstrode, wearing a resigned expression, sat next to Pansy.
"So, Potter…or would that be Lord Potter?" She gave him a flirtatious, predatory smile.
"Potter's fine." Pretending to look through his books, Harry flicked a glance at Malfoy, catching his disgruntled expression. He mentally cursed Pancy for disrupting their fragile truce.
Carmichael interrupted the increasingly tense atmosphere, clearing his throat and announcing, "We're going to be spending these sessions working on test taking strategy, study skills, and any courses you feel you need help with." He gave a small smile. "I received an OWL in all 11 courses, so I'm sure you'll agree that I'm more than qualified. This is more of a guided study group than a formal class. Any questions?"
Hermione had often blathered on about testing taking strategies and study skills; in fact, she had actually attended classes that taught these skills. Unfortunately, she wasn't terribly good at explaining things (Harry rather thought she was just too smart to teach regular people), so her attempts to teach Ron and Harry had usually ended with a row and the two boys wandering off to the Quidditch pitch.
"I'll explain my test taking strategies, because they will shape the material we study this summer. My father was a Ravenclaw, but my mother was a Slytherin." He gave the class a sharp smile. "Keep in mind that the OWL exams fall under the authority of the Ministry of Magic. One," he held up his forefinger, "they have to pay for all expenses incurred in the testing process, and two," he held up a second finger, "they are liable should anything untoward happen during the tests. Now, what does this mean for you, the test taker?"
"The ingredients for the potions practical will be common and non-reactive. I would guess most will be mundane, rather than magical," Draco drawled, examining his fingernails.
Carmichael nodded, "Exactly. Mundane ingredients are inexpensive and far less likely to combine into something lethal, should the brewer make a mistake. However, what your potions practical lacks in expense, it will make up for in complexity. Keep in mind that, unlike your other exams, you will get exactly one chance. You only get one set of ingredients, and none of the neutralizing agents that might allow you to correct a mistake. You should all have one of these," he added, holding up the tabbed book Harry had noticed earlier. "I suggest you begin to write down the particulars of every potion you've worked on in class. Start with fourth year and work back. Whenever you study a potion, make it a habit to look over the basics of the animals and plants your ingredients came from. This way, you study for three courses at once. I've included a list of common potions made in OWL practicals. I suggest you add those as well.
"Today, we're going to begin working on the Erudition Memoria, or Learning Memory potion. This is a Ravenclaw favorite and dead useful. It enhances the ability of the brain to absorb and retain knowledge. Now, this won't make you any smarter. What it will do is put you in a state where you can learn at your absolute best. There are many drawbacks: One, the drinker must brew it himself. Drinking someone else's Erudition Memoria can be toxic. Number two: The drinker must be relaxed when he takes it. Therefore, taking it for a last minute cram session is not advised—unless you want to spend a few days in the hospital wing, or on your knees in front of a toilet. It's also fairly tricky to brew. The good news is that, correctly brewed, it will stay potent for over a year." Carmichael tapped the black board, and instructions began to scrawl themselves across the surface.
Following Carmichael's instructions, Harry carefully copied the recipe in his new journal, then began brewing. While lacking Snape's brilliance, Carmichael was a good instructor, willing to inspect each ingredient before it was added and offering advice. Malfoy, of course, was finished first.
"Malfoy's potion is finished. Now, I'm going to show you a useful little spell that will impress your OWL examiner." He spooned a small amount of the potion into glass bowl, then pulled a short wand from his pocket, and said, "Capsula!" A droplet of the potion separated from the rest. Carmichael caught the now-solid drop in his hand. "Portable and a perfect dose. This spell will work on most OWL practicals, because of the low volatility of both the ingredients and the resulting potions."
Malfoy looked disgruntled. "Professor Snape never taught us that," he griped.
"It's 'foolish wand-waving,' isn't it?" Harry quipped.
"The Encapsulating Charm, unfortunately, will interfere with a lot of potions, especially those containing potent magical ingredients."
Harry grinned, "So, while it's not that great in the real world, it's perfect for OWLs."
"Exactly," Carmichael said. "The magical ingredients in this potion are very stable and subtle—which is why this potion works as well as it does without the risk of addiction or brain damage."
The other five returned to their potions. Bulstrode finished second. Goyle managed to create a weak but still useable brew. Crabbe's was a failure. Though Harry finished after Crabbe, his potion was perfect. And Pansy's was a smoking disaster. Carmichael poked the mass with a glass stirring rod, frowning. Pansy's face was angry and pinched.
"You want to give it another try?" He asked.
Pansy tossed her curls, letting loose a false little laugh. "Maybe later."
Carmichael shrugged. "Your loss, then." He turned and offered Harry the wand.
"Capsula!" Harry commanded. The droplet began to form, then collapsed back in the dish. Pansy tittered. "Capsula!" His second try remained firm for a moment, but melted in his palm when he caught it. "Capsula!" Harry grinned as he snagged the translucent yellow pill.
"Harry's used to a much longer wand. No wonder it took him so long." She giggled, shooting Carmichael a maliciously sultry look.
"Very mature, Parkinson," Harry snapped, ignoring her pout.
"Generic wands are usually short. A few more inches won't improve the power by much, and the short length makes them good for small, precision spells. Plus, they aren't tracked by the Ministry." Carmichael seemed oblivious to Pansy's nasty innuendo.
"Brilliant," Harry smirked at Pansy's abashed expression.
"This potion can be consumed in several ways. One capsule—two of yours in this case, Goyle—is a full dose. It gives you 24 hours of intense focus. Note that you won't be able to sleep during this time. Do not take any sleeping potions.
"Another method is to dissolve a capsule in water, and drink the water over the course of a day. The effects are less intense this way. It's especially useful when you're in a foreign country and wish to learn the language. I spend a month in France and used this diluted version everyday, and came home nearly fluent. I advise you try this one at first. Dissolve one capsule in a gallon of water, and drink one ounce each hour.
"A third method is too work the potion into a candle or incense, and burn it when you study. I don't recommend this, since you are likely to make your roommates ill. Knowingly exposing others to your Erudition Memoria constitutes reckless endangerment, and carries a term in Azkaban. Because of this reason, students are not allowed to possess this potion at Hogwarts. You may request Madam Pomphrey or your Head of House to hold it for you."
Harry carefully labeled his bottle of Erudition Memoria. He might be able to make up for two years of Arithmancy and Ancient Runes in one summer, after all.
Author's Note: Since he's been recognized as the Heir of Slytherin, Harry's formal title is Lord Potter. While he was the heir, Voldemort was Lord Marvolo. Now he's Thomas Marvolo, Lord Slytherin. (Like George Gordon, Lord Byron).
FYI: Voldemort had his name in the magical world officially changed from Tom Marvolo Riddle to Thomas Marvolo.
Thanks to my reviewers! devil8duck, blueswan142, Sci-Fri-HPFreak, Kristin, kansas-5609, poof, Dying Angel1, dubdigit, I-see-thestrals, wes.lane
If I get 110 reviews, I'll update next Monday!