Chapter 11
The Potions Master
The next morning they were up and getting dressed. They were told by Percy they would be receiving their schedules at breakfast. If they had any questions they were to ask for help, it could be hard to locate some of the classrooms. Also, they were to make it class on time, teachers did not like it when students were late. Breakfast started in fifteen minutes.
Soon the five boys were making their way to the Great Hall to get breakfast and their schedules.
"There look."
"Where?"
"Next to the tall kid with the red hair."
"Wearing the glasses?"
"Did you see his face?"
"Did you see his scar?"
Whispers followed Harry all the way to the Great Hall so, by the time they arrived at the table he was self-conscious and annoyed. He dropped his bag onto the floor at his feet and slammed some food onto his plate.
"Easy there Harry," Neville warned as he sat on one side and Ron on the other. It was like they both subconsciously agreed to protect him for all the gawking students.
Harry exhaled and started to slowly eat while keeping his head down. Great, even here he had to deal with something. He was hoping to fit in here, not find another reason to be different. Everyone seemed to settle down when four Professors walked in carrying scrolls. Harry watched as Snape walked over to the Slytherin table and started handing out the scrolls. Professor McGonagall walked toward them. Did that mean she was their Head of House? Did that mean….Snape was the Head of House for Slytherin? And he didn't tell Harry….because… he didn't want him to be sorted into Slytherin? Harry remembered all the things he had thought about Slytherin. Hadn't Snape told him that he didn't want to influence him.
A scroll was touching him on the shoulder. He looked up to see Professor McGonagall there trying to hand him his schedule. He took it and smiled at her and she moved on. He unrolled it and looked at the his schedule. He was looking to see when he would have potions, not until Friday. He sighed, he didn't know if he could wait that long to see Snape.
A few minutes later, at Hermione's insistence, the Gryffindor first years made their way towards their first class, it was a good thing they left early. There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickey ones; some that led somewhere different on Fridays; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that really weren't doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other, and Harry was certain the coats of armor could walk.
The ghosts didn't help, either. It was always a nasty shock when one of them gilded suddenly through a door you were trying to open. Sir Nicholas, was always happy to point new Gryffindors in the right direction, but Peeves was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase of you met him when you were late for class. He would drop wastepaper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!"
Even worse than Peeves, if that was possible, was the caretaker, Argus Filch. Harry and Ron managed to get on the wrong side of him on their very first morning between classes. Filch found then trying to force their way through a door that unluckily turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor. He wouldn't believe they were lost, was sure they they were trying to break into it on purpose, and was threatening to lock them in the dungeons when they were rescued by Professor Quirrell, who was passing.
Filch owned a cat called Mrs. Norris, a scrawny, dust-colored creature with bulging, lamp like eyes just like Filch's. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put just one toe out of line, and she'd swhish off for Filch, who'd appear, wheezing, two seconds later. Filch new the secret passageways of the school better than anyone (except perhaps the Weasley twins) and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. The students all hated him, and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mrs. Norris a good kick.
And then, once you had managed to find them, there were the classes themselves. There was a lot more to magic, as Harry quickly found out, than waving your wand and saying a few funny words.
They had to study the night skies through their telescopes every Wednesday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout, where they learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi, and found out what they were used for.
Easily the most boring class was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room for and got up the next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates, and got Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up.
Professor Flitwick, the Charms Professor, was the tiny little wizard that reminded Harry of the Goblins. He had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first class he took the roll call, when he reached Harry's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight. Harry shrunk down in his chair wanting to hide.
Professor McGonagall was again different. Harry had been quite right to think she wasn't a teacher to cross. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking to the moment they sat down in her first class.
"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."
Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again! They were all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realized they weren't going to be changing furniture into animals for a long time. After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione Granger had made any difference to her match; Professor McGonagall showed the class how it had turned all silver and pointy and gave Hermione a rare smile.
The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts (DADA), but Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed his story. For one thing, when Seamus asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so Quirrell was protected wherever he went.
Harry was very relieved to find out he wasn't miles behind everyone else like he had worried. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like him, hadn't any idea they were witches and wizards. There was so much to learn even people like Ron didn't have much of a head start.
Friday was an important day for Harry and Ron. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost.
"What have we got today?" Harry asked Ron, although he already knew, as he poured sugar on his porridge.
"Double Potions with the Slytherins," said Ron. "Snape's Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors them - we'll be able to see if it true."
"Wish McGonagall favored us," said Harry, Professor McGonagall was head of their house, but it had not stopped her from giving them a huge pile of homework the day before.
Just then, the mail arrived. Harry had gotten used to this by now, but it had given him a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners, and dropping their letters and packages into their laps.
Hedwig hadn't brought Harry anything so far. She sometimes flew in to nibble his ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school owls. This morning, however, she fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note onto Harry's plate. Harry tore it open at once. It said, in very large untidy scrawl,
Dear Harry,
I know you have Friday afternoons off, so I'd like to invite you to come have a cup of tea with me around three. I know we have not had a chance to talk, but I was a good friend of your mother's. She was kind to me, and I would like to return the favor. I want to hear about your first week. Send an answer back with Hedwig.
Hagrid
The large grounds keeper knew his mother! Harry borrowed Ron's quill, scribbled 'Yes, please, see you at three' on the back of the note, and sent it off with Hedwig again.
It was lucky Harry had tea to look forward to, because the Potions lesson turned out to be the worst thing that had happened to him so far.
At the start of term banquet, Harry had gotten the idea that Professor Snape had to pretend not to know or like him. By the end of the first potions lesson he was sure Snape was playing this dislike up way too far! He was acting like he hated him!
Potions took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the room. It reminded Harry of what Snape had said to Sheila when he found a snake in one of them. He had not been joking!
Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name.
"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new - celebrity."
Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. Harry remembered what Snape had told him. That he had to stay in favor with the likes of Malfoy, so he tried not to let it bug him. Hermione, who was sitting next to him, gave him an "I'm sorry for you,' look to help cheer him up. He was grateful. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black and had none of the warmth they had contained over the summer. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels. This unsettled Harry somewhat and made him worry.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he bagan. He spoke in barely more than in whisper and in a way Harry barely recognized as his voice, but they heard every word - like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses….I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper in death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
More silence followed this little speech. Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at each other, and Neville was looking at the floor trying to be as small as possible. Hermione then moved up to the edge of her seat, and she looked desperate to prove she was not a dunderhead. Harry remembered Snape's dislike of know it alls and looked at her to get her attention. He shook his head no in warning.
"Potter!" said Snape suddenly, "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Harry could see Hermione almost in pain not raising her hand.
"I believe those are the last steps for a potion called, Draught of the Living Death, sir."
He didn't look at him as he spoke and wasn't sure if it was better to answer correctly or play dumb.
"Ah, fame gone to you head? Tell me where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
"In a goat's stomach," Harry supplied softly, still looking at his hands in his lap. He had read the entire potions text. He had wanted to do well in Snape's class. Now he was not so sure this was a good idea. He was not a fan of this Snape at all.
"Looks like someone actually opened a book before coming here," he sneered at Potter. "Tell me, Potter, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
Harry had about as much of this as he was willing to take. If he wanted to fight, he'd fight. He slowly raised his head. Malfoy and his gang were starting to giggle.
"They are the same thing sir, also known as aconite," Harry said meeting his eyes with his own hard look.
Snapped expression was one of daggers, directed at him!
"Why are you all not writing this down!"
There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."
Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into all the pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like. Harry had practiced this potion and knew how to make it well. Snape was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy has stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a lot hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.
"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"
Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.
"Take him to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.
"You - Potter - why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."
This was so unfair that Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Ron kicked him behind their cauldron.
"Don't push it," he muttered. "I've heard Snape can turn very nasty.
Harry new he should take Ron's advice, but he wanted to talk to Snape - he needed detention.
"That's not fair sir," Harry said standing.
Snape whipped around so fast that those near Harry flinched, but not Harry.
"You will be scrubbing cauldrons tonight, Potter - detention 6:00 pm," he turned back around and sneered. "And five more points from Gryffindor for your insubordination."
As they climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, Harry's mind was racing and his spirits were low. He'd lost seven points for Gryffindor in his very first week - why did Snape have to do that? Did he hate him?
"Cheer up," said Ron, "Snape's always taking points off Fred and George. Can I come and meet Hagrid with you?"
"Thanks from keeping me from making a fool of myself," Hermione added, "I can with you to Hagrid's if you would like too?" she offered.
Harry had to smile on the inside when he realized he had friends who cared about him for the first time in his life. He was sorry Neville was in the hospital wing.
At five to three they left the castle and made their way across the grounds. Hagrid lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the forbidden forest. A crossbow and a pair of galoshes were outside the front door.
When Harry knocked they heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and sevel booming barks. Then Hagrid's voice rang out, saying, "Back, Fang - back."
Hagrid's big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open.
"Hang on," he said. "Back, Fang."
He let them in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound. There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging for the ceiling , a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.
"Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight for Ron and started licking his ears. Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked.
"Hi," Harry said smiling. "This is Ron, and she is Hermione," Harry said introducing his friends. He had asked around and everyone had agreed Hagrid was well liked by those who took the time to get to know him.
"Another Weasley, eh?" said Hagrid, glancing at Ron's freckles, "I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest."
The rock cakes were shapeless lumps with raisins that almost broke their teeth. It was Hermione who showed them how to pretend to eat them and then put them in the pockets of their robes. They told Hagrid all about their first lessons and how Neville had ended up in the hospital wing, or he would have been here too. Fang rested his head on Harry's knee and drooled all over his robes.
They were all delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch "that old git."
"An' as fer that cat, Mrs. Norris, I'd like ter introduce her to Fang sometime. D'yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can't get rid of her - Filch puts her up to it."
Harry told Hagrid about Snape's lessons. Hagrid, like Ron and Hermione, told Harry not to worry about it, that Snape liked hardly any of the students.
"But he seemed to really hate me."
"Rubbish!" said Hagrid. "Why should he?"
Yet Harry knew there was more to it than normal, but he wanted to hear about his mother, not talk about Snape.
"You mentioned you knew my mom?" Harry asked.
"Yes," Hagrid said smiling. "She was a true friend to me. Helped me fit in and find my place 'ere. Helped the other people 'ere accept me. Mighta left if not fer her. Kids can be down right mean sometimes," Hagrid remembered.
Harry, Ron and Hermione listened for a while as Hagrid told them stories about Harry's parents and the things they would do. This naturally lead to Hagrid asking about Hermione's parents which seemed to confused the large man…'teeth don't need tending that often'. Then he turned to Ron.
"How's yer brother Charlie?" Hagrid asked Ron. "I liked him a lot - great with animals."
Harry and Hermione listed as Ron and Hagrid talked about dragons and Charlie's work with them. It was soon apparent Hagrid loved the idea of working with dragons.
"Always wanted a dragon," Hagrid said dreamily at one point.
Hermione looked worried that anyone would think a dragon was a suitable pet! Harry picked up a piece of paper lying on the table under the tea cozy. It was cutting from the Daily Prophet.
GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST
Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown.
Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day.
"But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon.
Harry remembered Ron telling him on the train that someone had tried to rob Gringotts, but Ron hadn't mentioned the date. He had been in Diagon Alley all day that day!
"Hagrid!" said Harry, "this Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! I was in Diagon Alley all day!" he told him.
"I know, saw ya there myself at one point," Hagrid said smiling. "You were with Professor Sintra and 'ermione 'ere," Hagrid said. "She told me ye wanted to keep it low key, so I didn't say 'nuttin.' But I saw ya when I went to the bank to get something for Dumbledore," he said. "Shouldn't o' said that."
Then he turned back to Ron to talk about dragons some more.
Soon they were walking back to the castle for dinner before Harry had to head down to detention with Professor Snape. Their pockets were weighed down with rock cakes and Harry was happy to have a new friend who knew his parents and liked to talk about them. He was also forced to wonder if Hagrid had collected that package from Gringotts just in time? And what was it?
At five fifty he said goodbye to his friends and headed down to the dungeons for his detention. He felt the sneers from the Slytherins as he left, it was no secret what had happened earlier in the morning.
He walked into the classroom, shutting the door behind him. He didn't see Snape in the room.
"Back here, Potter," Snape called.
Snape had an office whose door was hidden in the corner near the back bottom of the classroom. He had not noticed it during class. Harry slowly went down and into the office where Snape was waiting. He passed a large collection of filthy cauldrons and was slightly concerned he might actually end up strubbing cauldrons for the next two hours.
"Shut the door Potter," Snape said as he continued to look through parchments. Harry did so.
Snape than stood and cast spell after spell on the door. Finally, he seemed satisfied they were alone and no one would be interrupting them.
"Please sit," Snape said motioning to the chair in front of the desk.
Harry sat and looked at Snape. He seemed somewhere between the man he knew and the professor he had witnessed today.
"How are you adjusting," Snape asked organizing the parchments and putting them aside.
"It's certainly different," Harry said trying to figure out the enigma that was Snape.
"You studied your books," Snape said sitting back and looking at Harry.
"Yes, you told me to, and I wanted to do well," Harry said.
"You also managed to keep Hermione from looking like an insufferable know it all," Snape sneered, "no small task."
Harry smiled, this was his Snape. He exhaled a breath he didn't realize he had been holding.
"She is just really nervous to prove she can do this, that she belongs here."
"She would not be here if she did not belong," Snape said. "Neville is another story. That boy is a nervous wreck, his grandmother has turned him into a snivelling mess."
"What?" Harry asked.
"He is so scared to do something right, he does everything wrong. You can see it in everything he does. He has no confidence in his ability to so much as dress himself."
"Oh, that sounds like some of the stories I've heard," Harry realized.
"How are things going in your other classes?" Snap asked genuinely curious.
"There's so much more to magic than I thought," Harry told him.
They talked just like they had over the course of the summer and Harry was pleased to know Snape's classroom persona was just that.
"You remember class today," Snape said toward the end of their time.
"Yes," Harry said harshly.
"Every class will be like that, or worse," Snape told him.
"Worse!" Harry cried, "how could it get worse?"
"You knew what you were doing today. Your potion was correct, you answered my questions." Snape said. "If you ever come to class not knowing an answer, make a mistake on your potion, don't keep your house mates from making a mistake. I have to behave even harsher. You set the bar pretty high for yourself today," he seem pleased, but did not say it. "You must maintain it, and exceed it." He said looking at him intently.
"Okay," he sighed.
"To that end I need to teach you a few spell," he smirked.
"I thought you said there was no wand waving in here."
"There's not," he smirked.
He showed him how to always fill two, not one, vial of a completed potion incase something were to happen to the first one. Never do it as the same time, if he were caught doing so it would not be good. As well as how to cast an unbreakable spell on said vials, that one took a few tries for Harry to get the wand movement right. Then he showed him a spell to create a safe zone around his cauldron.
"That's a harder one," Snape admitted. "Practice it in your trunk until you get it. It is on page 135 of the Standard Spells Useful for Potions, which is in your library. That is where you 'find it.' Its intention is to keep exploding potions contained, but it works just as well in keeping unwanted things from getting in. Show it to your friends, and all of you learn it. At some point the Slytherins will start throwing things into your cauldrons. The first time it happens, they will get away with it, then you can start using this.
Harry nodded, "thanks."
"Do I have to let them break my vial before I use the other one?" Harry asked.
"I think you can get away with that one without raising suspicions however, the always doing a second vial I would wait on too."
"Great," Harry said sarcastically.
"One more spell to learn, scourgify. We gave some cauldrons to clean. If anyone asks, you did them all by hand, no magic."
"Got it," Harry said Snape walked toward the door.
"Oh, I almost forgot, my box for the prickly magic cracked, but I fixed it.
Snape stopped and turned around, "explain Potter, details."
"Well, it started at start of term feast. I was looking at you and Professor Quirrell and all of a sudden my scar felt like it had been stabbed and my bracelet burned and prickled and Sheila hissed. Then, just as suddenly, it was gone. That night I had the weirdest dream. I was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to me, telling me I must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was my destiny. I told the turban I didn't want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; I tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully - and then there was Malfoy turning into you, and laughing becoming high and cold - there was a burst of green light and I woke up, sweating and shaking. I remembered that I had not done my mental homework, I was tired from the feast, so I did it right then. That is when I noticed the crack. I repaired it, put all the prickly magic which had escaped back in it. Then built a bigger, stronger box and put the old box in it, and sealed it tight. I have not had any problems since. I have made sure to do my mental homework, morning and night since."
"I see," Snape said thinking. "Have you had any contact with Professor Quirrell since?"
Harry thought, "well in his class, he's not a good teacher by the way," Snape motioned for him to continue, "oh, once. Ron and I were lost and ended up on third floor corridor at the out-of bounds door. Filch was trying to say we were trying to get past the door, like we were there on purpose. Professor Quirrell showed up and helped us get back to the Great Hall. This school is really confusing."
"Did you sense anything at that time,"
"No," Harry thought, "I didn't, nor during class."
"Thank you for letting me know, make sure if anything happens like that you tell me. Do we have an understanding?"
"Yes," Harry assured him, and he removed the spells from the door.
Then Snape spent ten minutes or so teaching Harry the spell and watching him practice it on the cauldrons. At eight sharp Harry left for his dorm.
After all of dorm mates where in bed he reached out and shrunk his trunk and pulled it in to his curtains. He then enlarged it on his bed and pushed the marking for his library. He went down and spent a few hours studying on his own. He was realizing, now that he was off all but the core potion, he had his knack for getting a few extra hours at the end of his day back. He had so much to study he needed it. Once back out of his trunk he replaced it at the foot of his bed and enlarged it. Then he did his mental homework. His first order of business was to capture all the prickly magic which he had completed before coming to Hogwarts. Now he was just working on filling his pillar, and it was already about half full. With that done, he went to sleep.
