Another disclaimer: Yes, if the title of this chapter did look familiar, that is because I 'borrowed' it from the title of 'My Chemical Romance's second last album from approximately 2004. It fit, so I used it, a little intertextual referencing never did any harm.

Dear readers,

I personally quite like this chapter, but feel feel to criticise it as much as you should care to. Perhaps it is just that it really brings out Sev's psychoanalytically sadistic side...

In any case, please review. I apologise for not updating as soon as I said I would, my internet was 'down' (long story). Never the less, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Yours truly,

Prof. Cassandra Nightingale.

'Ah, yes. Harry Potter. Our new – celebrity.' The boy shrank before him. That feels so…good. He finished the register absent-mindedly, sadistically savouring the discomfort of the rodent before him. He proceeded to give the little speech he usually gave to the first years, and as usual, they sat captivated by the whispered words until the final full stop. As he did he peeked into the rodent's pitiful head and found his knowledge, or rather, lack there-of, of potions. He smirked internally before launching in to the humiliating interrogation.

'Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?'

He smelt the delicious scent of perplexity waft from the rodent's mind and smiled internally while he sneered at the boy's answer. The muggle born's hand almost escaped his notice, but he had just begun and was certainly not about to relinquish one of the few most satisfying moments he had had since…

'Tut, tut – fame clearly isn't everything… Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?'

He relished the sharp pang of trepidation that consumed the rodent, as his internal smile became a grin.

'Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?' He felt the boy struggle inside to both look away and to maintain eye contact with his black, penetrating gaze.

'What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?'

He tasted the sweetness of embarrassment and his internal grin became laughter, but was cut short by the rodent's next comment.

'I don't know, I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?'

He would make the rodent rue the day it dared cross the bat…