Disclaimer: are wands required for potions even though Snape in canon teach Potions without 'silly wand-waving' and wands were a Roman invention not adapted by many wizarding nations until the 1800s? If yes, Harry Potter does not belong to me. He belongs to JK Rowling, and this story is entirely non-profit.
Small Steps
Such was the general weirdness level of the Wizarding World that neither an incredibly dangerous tournament where a student had been entered against his will, nor a potential plot by a nigh-immortal Dark Lord managed to disrupt the usual course of classes in Hogwarts. Admittedly, Valeria wasn't sure how many witches and wizards actually knew or believed Voldemort was alive and responsible for Harry's predicament, and as another half-hour of Charity Burbage's extolling the superiority of muggle civilization came to an end, she was sorely tempted to go out, impersonate the Dark Lord and... convince them. Only the consequences of the last time she'd done that, including Hogwarts becoming the target of a Death Eater attack, stayed her hand.
"...and that is how humanity stepped on the moon; not with magic, but with muggle science!" the professor finished with a cheer hardly shared by the rest of the class. After all, the only muggleborn present was Valeria herself, and the majority of students present were purebloods... Slytherin purebloods.
"That explanation was... lacking in substance," Daphne said, her lips pressed into a thin line as she glared at the prop Burbage had used to explain muggle rockets.
"Tell it like it is, Greengrass," the small, too-thin boy on Valeria's left uttered with such cold disdain it was a wonder their shared desk hadn't frozen over. "A stupid muggle toy proving the professor's insanity. How could a balloon take anyone to the Moon!"
"Shut up, Nott! I don't want her coming over here," the muggleborn Slytherin whispered furiously as they packed up their books and scrolls away and took out the muggle devices they'd been working on for months now. "Besides, the balloon is an easy way to show the action-reaction principle as propulsion."
"The what, now?"
"Muggles don't have magic." Valeria rolled her eyes and barely refrained from saying 'duh!'. "In the absence of flight spells, they must move by pushing against something else. Any time you push something it pushes you back; we push the ground to walk or run, birds push against the air to fly, fish push against the water to swim." Valeria unpacked her own project, an ancient-looking muggle gun she'd been improving and repairing with magic. "Do you recall our Astronomy lessons though? What is between us and the Moon?"
"Space. Everyone knows that," Nott replied. Then his eyes widened as he came to the realization. "Muggles can't get to the Moon because they have nothing to push against!"
"Right. That's where the balloon comes in. It contains its own air, pushes it out from its neck, and that in turn propels the balloon forward." Valeria scowled at the century-old revolver on the desk, then shot Burbage a glare the so-called Professor pretended not to see. According to her, their project was to improve a muggle device with magic, not more muggle science. As such, the only tools they were allowed were magical ones, which included measurements and note-taking... and Latin math were a joke. "Muggles don't use balloons of course; they use rockets. They carry fuel much heavier than air so they can work a lot longer, and by burning it explosively it comes out at far greater speeds, propelling them a lot faster."
"Huh." Not took out his own project which, surprise, surprise, involved an old muggle camera. The pureblood scion was just arrogant enough to spend half the lesson taking pictures of himself. "So why did Burbage not say what you just did? I mean, the balloon thing is still silly but at least it makes some sense... in a stupid muggle sort of way."
"Probably because she wanted to avoid explaining why muggles needed rockets." Valeria said off-handedly as she looked critically down the old revolver's barrel. Her latest attempt at an expansion charm had not quite taken; it was only twice as long on the inside as on the outside. "It's only a small step between realizing rockets are just larger, more powerful balloons, and some idiots casting a space expansion charm inside a balloon and launching it to outer space during next Hogsmeade weekend."
"Are you two done wasting time?" Daphne demanded severely as her miniature steam engine puffed smoke in colours decidedly unnatural. "We only have until next week to finish our first improvement!"
The three of them returned to work, each with different thoughts in mind. The tall, blonde heiress was the only one focused on her project at all. The short, blonde muggleborn was fantasizing about beating the horrible shortcomings of muggle "civilization" into their teacher's head with a Beater's bat, while Theo Nott wondered when the mudblood would be sending her entirely hypothetical balloon to the moon, and whether he could get her expelled for it.
xxxx xxxx xxxx
Potions class had finally advanced to moderately difficult potions, at least according to the syllabus. Professor Snape didn't seem to think so, given his apparent lack of enthusiasm, and Valeria mostly shared his opinion. From what her research had revealed, the Slytherin Head of House was a veritable genius when it came to potions, the second-youngest ever Potions Master in Magical Britain, and the youngest to be ever hired by Hogwarts. While he had no great discoveries to his name, his contributions in improving existing recipes was substantial. For someone like him, teaching ignorant children had to be a chore... before even his abrasive personality and intolerance of idiocy were taken into account. He didn't seem to like anyone - and Valeria had put considerable effort in his classes to get his attention - but the only people he seemed to hate more than incompetent brewers were those with the Potter name. Whether that attitude was appropriate for a Professor was not Valeria's business to decide; it just made what she was about to do that much more dangerous.
"Many of you would benefit from today's assignment," he uttered on arrival, not bothering with an introduction or taking attendance. If Severus Snape ever missed or forgot a single tardy student in his class, Valeria would eat a dragon - no Ketchup. "Wit-Sharpening potion; perhaps you should begin immediately." With a single flick of his wand the recipe appeared on the blackboard, then he took up position behind his desk like a gaoler waiting to punish misbehaving prisoners. For perhaps the thousandth time, Valeria wondered what spell he used to make the recipe appear. She'd narrowed it down to two possibilities; a transfiguration of empty blackboard to blackboard with recipe, and a dictation spell that reshaped writing material such as the one on the Diary, except with chalk instead of ink. Both would require he visualised the entire recipe at once, though given her Professor's mental skills, she doubted that was a hurdle at all.
The Wit-Sharpening potion was a relatively simple brew that bestowed clarity of thought. Contrary to popular belief, it didn't make one smarter; it diminished distractions, banished confusion, and eliminated errors in critical thinking. The user's mental ability was still up to them - just the best of them. Another use was as a counter to mind-addling magic, such as the Confundus Charm. At least that was what happened if the potion was brewed successfully. Valeria eyed her freshly bought Ginger roots critically. A side benefit of brewing potions for fun and profit was that she frequently had to owl-order new ingredients, and while the quality of Hogsmeade's apothecary wasn't as high as those in Diagon Alley, not keeping ingredients in her private stores for months more than made up the difference. Selecting the best specimen for the experiment, she carefully sliced it with her silver knife in six pieces of as near identical volume as was possible.
The water with the pre-prepared basic herbal mix had reached a nice boil in the copper cauldron. The Slytherin muggleborn had traded up from pewter and brass as her skill increased because copper cauldrons allowed for faster, more efficient brewing. Being a precious metal, copper was also resistant to magical corrosion or transformation to some extent, not to mention its higher melting point. A silver or gold cauldron would have been even better, but would have drawn Snape's attention, something she didn't need while the experiment was still underway. In the boiling blue mixture she added first one slice of ginger, then another, waiting as it turned from blue to a vibrant lime green. That done, she added Armadillo Bile until it turned back into a deeper, darker blue. She didn't bother measuring precisely - measurements beyond the arithmantic significance of some steps could actually ruin a potion. This was because, unlike cooking or Chemistry, potions were magic. The magic of the brewer was a contributing factor and that was why no recipe would ever say three grams of ground beetles instead of three pinches; every potioneer used their pinch just as they used their magic, and even if the absolute quantity differed, it was still correct for that potioneer.
Speaking of which, she took out mortar and pestle, filled it with the right amount of scarab beetles, and started grinding them to a fine paste while the potion simmered. She threw Professor Snape a covert look to make sure he wasn't looking directly at her when she added the paste to the mixture; while she doubted he'd notice anything odd with her paste from such a distance, better safe than sorry. As soon as the paste hit the dark blue draught, there was an immediate reaction. A hiss like acid gnawing upon stone, a sizzle as the paste dissolved entirely and the mixture became a vibrant red the colour of fresh-spilled blood. Just as Ginger had healing properties used in many potions, Scarab beetles were used for their regenerative abilities, believed in ancient Egypt to show the road to reincarnation and immortality. While the bit about reincarnation had been disproven (Riddle had needed no scarabs to get out of the Diary), their regenerative abilities were still used in Potions and Alchemy. Valeria's experiment in this case had been to see whether the potion could be strengthened via ritual sacrifice. Specifically, she'd caught the beetles herself in the Hogwarts grounds, and kept them under a Freezing Charm - the immobilization version rather than the ice making one. So far everything was going well; her potion was more vibrant red and magically potent than ever before.
Raising her head to see whether Professor Snape had noticed, she found out she'd concentrated on her brewing so much she'd missed certain developments. Specifically, a tall, thin man in dark red and black robes, with a pale face, yellowed teeth, unhealthy-looking black hair, and beady black eyes had entered the classroom and was whispering furiously to her Head of House. What in the name of Morgana did Highmaster Karkaroff want with Hogwarts' Potions Master? Just as interesting were Harry's actions. While her Gryffindor friend seemed to be concentrating on his potion, he'd drawn his wand and conjured a tiny snake under his desk. Unlike Alastor Moody or his impostor, neither Snape nor Karkarov possessed magical eyes so they'd missed the new guest. With a quick glance around him to make sure no enemy was watching, Harry tapped it with his wand and it vanished from sight, Disillusioned. Then he whispered something suspiciously close to a Parseltongue hiss and returned to his potion.
Valeria yelped when she realized she'd almost missed the timing for the next step in her own unfinished potion. She added more Armadillo Bile until the liquid was a deep yellow, added two more Ginger roots and left it to boil until it turned lime green, added more Armadillo Bile until it was a deep, glowing purple, then left it to simmer for ten minutes on a smaller fire than normal to account for her copper cauldron's usually faster brewing times. During the waiting period, she cleaned and packed up her scales, washed her silver knife, packaged the remaining Ginger roots and the bottle of Armadillo bile, and scoured her desk of all reagents and ingredient remains with magic before throwing a repairing charm at it to restore it to perfect condition. No silly wand-waving Morgana's tits; Snape was just a sadistic bastard taking pleasure in seeing students clean icky stuff by hand. That, and he wanted them to infuse their magic to the potions wandlessly while brewing rather than casting the spells directly; an excellent primer for more difficult, faster wandless casting later on... if the students knew what they were doing. Given how many times Neville had melted his cauldron over the years despite Valeria's tutoring, she doubted anyone but her did.
Seeing her Professor paying more attention to his visitor than the rest of the class, she bottled a sample of her potion, named it, charmed it unbreakable and sealed to anyone but Snape or herself, then left it for marking. One incident of Pansy Parkinson trying to steal her work was enough, thank you very much. Since Snape not paying attention was a rare opportunity, the rest of the potion she stored for her own use.
xxxx xxxx xxxx
"Guys, you'll never guess what happened in Potions class!" Harry's worried tone drew the entire group's attention as soon as he arrived at their pre-arranged meeting place in the grounds.
"You mean other than you spying on Professor Snape and Highmaster Karkaroff?" Daphne said half-accusingly, half-worriedly. "Harry, powerful people do not like to be spied upon. What if Professor Snape had noticed?"
"Well, he didn't," Harry said almost dismissively after throwing a glare towards Valeria. Daphne's eyes narrowed at the dismissal and was about to deliver an acidic retort but Harry, typical Gryffindor that he was, talked over her. "And the news is too important; I'm glad I took the risk."
"Someone is not getting lucky until at least his thirties," Tracey mock-whispered sotto voce, causing Ron to cough trying to swallow a laugh and Daphne to glare at them in turn. Harry and Neville went crimson almost immediately; it was kinda cute.
"Can we be serious for once?" Harry demanded. "Karkaroff and Snape were discussing their Dark Marks and how both are getting darker! This is not a laughing matter!"
"Yeah, your dreams kinda already told us mate," Ron spoke up, his face worried. "You-Know-Who and Lestrange are cooking up something really dark and if you being in the Tournament isn't part of their plan I'll eat my cloak." The redhead scowled and went on. "Taking you out and making it look like an accident would be good for him, and not just because you messed up his plans repeatedly. It's also a morale thing, like in Quidditch. Famous player can't play in a match, his entire team will play worse - and that's just from an injury or sickness. And this whole Tournament thing? Lots of wizards all over the world watching. Something bad happens now, magical Britain's name is mud worldwide - like a team caught cheating in the World Cup. Hell, many people already think Hogwarts is cheating - that you are cheating - so they're less likely to help us if something bad happens. 'sides, our own people think it too - just look at the Daily Prophet. Dad says the Ministry's a mess, everyone's scrambling to respond to a second fiasco so soon after the World Cup. If it comes to fighting like with the inferi last year? They won't be nearly organized enough for another big attack."
Silence fell on the group of three Gryffindors and three Slytherins, five people staring at Ron as if they hadn't seen him before.
"What?" the tall Gryffindor demanded. "Wood talked to me about tactics last year; this Tournament stuff is no different."
"That you can say that after the analysis you gave is what makes you you, Weasley," Daphne said while Tracey snorted and rolled her eyes. "Father will be here during Easter holidays; talk to him."
...
"He's coming back, isn't he?" Neville's voice faltered for a moment, then came back stronger. "And that bitch Lestrange is helping him! How do we stop him?" The six friends looked at each other for several minutes, not one of them having a good idea - or one they were willing to share in any case.
"I don't think we could do much," Harry finally said. "I mean, I told Dumbledore and Sirius about the dreams and they're saying they're doing everything they can." He sighed, obviously not satisfied with that reply. "They told me to focus on the Tournament for now, and if Ron's right..."
"Yeah, mate. You not dying is always good." Ron's fake cheerful response failed to raise anyone's spirits. "I guess all we can do is prepare..."
"That... is not entirely correct." Valeria was more than a little hesitant about what she was about to reveal, but Ron's analysis had put things in perspective. She'd known about the Dark Mark getting stronger of course, but seeing how Harry being in the Tournament was such a key part of the Dark Wanker's plot? That she'd missed entirely... probably because she left the politics to Daphne and Tracey. "Since we captured Pettigrew last year... let's just say I've been studying the Dark Mark." That she was still studying it first-hand would just be her little secret. Or rather, secret #41 out of a list of five hundred.
"And there are a few more things we could do to prepare..."