A/N: If you're reading this chapter for the first time just disregard this :) For all those who've already read it, I want to apologize for that random word in the middle of it. One of my kids wanted me to add that in there and I completely forgot to take it out. I'll be more careful of that in the future. Thanks for reading!

It was one of those unfortunate realities, that brilliance simply could not be taught. Snape could spend hours writing down the exact instructions, demonstrating the proper technique, providing the finest ingredients, but he couldn't give his students that intuition, that stroke of genius that separated the accomplished potioneer from the great unwashed masses who simply chucked things into a cauldron like a todder might throw sticks and leaves into a jar. Most of them didn't have a clue how to make anything resembling a decent potion. The only way he could think of to prepare them for their O.W.L.s was to criticize every single thing they did wrong.

And so he would stride around the classroom, peering down at cauldrons and pointing out their mistakes. He sensed his students' nervousness as he did this and couldn't help but enjoy it.

His third-year Slytherins were decent enough, for the most part, as were a few of the Gryffindors, but the rest of the class was completely hopeless. He peered down into a cauldron full of some watery-looking mixture he couldn't even identify and looked up to see a red-faced boy who was squeezing a leech between his fingers.

"It's a pity this potion can't be as thick as your head, Mr. Collins," he told him. He saw a dark look cross the boy's face but there was nothing he could do about it unless he wanted detention.

"You're adding too much leech juice," he said to a Slytherin girl. He looked over at the girl next to her.

"I said to mince those daisy roots, don't just throw them into the cauldron, a three-year-old could do that."

Having given nearly everyone in the room the benefit of his professional opinion, he made his way to the front, stopping to see how the Selwyn boy and the Corlett girl had done. Her potion looked just as it should, but he didn't award her any house points this time. He didn't dislike her as he once had, but he knew perfectly well she was making potions outside of class, he'd seen that some of his ingredients were lower than usual, and it didn't take a genius such as himself to put the two together.

This class was his last for the day, and when he'd dismissed them he packed up his things and made his way back to his office to work awhile before dinner. He'd almost reached his office when he heard some sort of commotion down the corridor and strode over to see what it was.

He stopped a few yards away and stared. The Selwyn boy had Fenwick and McCulloch pinned against the wall, one hand on each chest, as easily as though they were made of stuffing. McCulloch's eyes darted up to Snape, and Selwyn turned his head and looked at him, mouth open.

It was as though he was seeing himself pinning Potter and Black, and he swelled with something like triumph.

"Put it away, Mr. Selwyn," he said, not unkindly. The boy lowered his wand and tucked it into his robes.

"Go," he told the other two. They took off running down the corridor, robes billowing, and didn't look back at him.

Selwyn's face was earnest, apologetic. "I'm sorry sir, I-"

"There's no need to explain," said Snape, his voice much softer than usual. "There will be no punishment."

"I-thank you sir," said the boy. He glanced over at the Corlett girl, who was standing nearby, a completely unconvincing look of puzzlement on her face. She needn't have bothered trying to cover it up, Snape knew perfectly well what had just happened.

"Come with me," he told her. She glanced back at the Selwyn boy, who shrugged, and trailed along behind him.

"Inside," he said when they'd reached his office. He closed the door behind them and her eyes darted around the room as though looking for an escape route.

He stood and looked at her a moment, considering what to do. One the one hand, she'd successfully made an O.W.L standard potion and helped her friend get revenge. On the other ha, she was an insolent little chit who deserved a week's worth of detentions.

"Turn out your pockets," he said.

She stood there a second, looking like a cartoon villain in a searchlight he'd seen once on Lily's parents' old 14-inch black and white. He narrowed his eyes at her and slowly, reluctantly, she pulled out two bags of ingredients, six vials of potion, and fourteen sickles.

He pinched one of the vials between his fingers and examined it in the dim light. "Wit-Sharpening Potion," he said. "Well, given what I've seen of most of your marks I don't doubt that you need it,"-the girl scowled at this-" but six vials?"

"Well...you know...I use it a lot."

Selling potions and lying about it to avoid trouble. How very Slytherin. He might not have minded it so much if it hadn't been his stores she was pilfering from. Student ingredients were paid for by the school of course, but he still thought of them as his.

"You may fancy yourself a budding entrepeneur, Miss Corlett," he said quietly, "but if I ever catch you taking extra ingredients from my stores you will be in serious trouble. And should anyone become ill from one of your potions you face expulsion from this school, do I make myself plain?"

The girl swallowed hard and nodded.

"As it is I am giving you three days of detention, starting this evening."

The girl swallowed again. "May I go now sir?" she said in a rather small voice. Snape nodded and the girl turned to leave.

"Miss Corlett." She turned to face him.

"If you were to continue making the Strengthening Solution for your friend...I won't say anything about it. Just be very careful, do you understand?"

She looked startled, but she seemed to understand. She gave a small nod and left.

Snape sat down and pulled out a stack of papers that needed marking, but he just looked down at them without really seeing anything. He'd been about her age, or perhaps a bit younger, when he'd tried making his own Strengthening Solution, but Potter and his friends were always too quick for him. He wondered if things would have been different, if he'd been able to pin them against the wall the way the Selwyn boy had.

There was a rap on the door as sharp as McGonagall's voice and Snape looked up from his desk to see her clutching the arm of the Rowle boy.

"I just caught one of your students attempting to hex Mr. Weasley," she snapped.

The boy didn't even try to look innocent, just stood there wearing a what-are-you-going-to-do-about-it smirk that reminded him vividly of Potter and Black.

But McGonagall was watching, and he wasn't going to punish him too harshly. "Twenty lines," he said, looking back down at his papers and hoping McGonagall would go away.

She made a disapproving noise as she left the room, and the boy sat down opposite him and pulled out a quill.

Snape gave him a piece of parchment and Rowle set his quill to it with a flourish, his large sloppy letters sprawled across the surface.

"I'm all out of room sir," he said, a hint of laughter in his voice.

Snape looked down and saw that he'd written only six lines. The self-satisfied little toerag.

He gripped his own quill harder and thrust another piece of parchment at him. "Try again," he said through clenched teeth.

Perhaps he knew that Snape wasn't someone to be trifled with-Snape certainly hoped so-because the smile faded from his face and he set to work again. After a few minutes the sound of the quill stopped and Snape looked up to see the boy staring at his book, the one on Dark curses he'd bought in Knockturn Alley. He'd left it sitting on his desk.

"Nice book, sir," the boy said, with a look that was far too knowing.

Snape just looked back at him. He understood how fascinating it must've been, to someone like him, and yet there was something about it that made him uneasy, something he couldn't explain, not even to himself.

He gave the boy a curt nod to show he'd heard him, and went back to work, and to his relief Rowle went back to his lines.

"I'm finished sir," he said after a few minutes. He handed the parchment back to Snape, and that's when the boy's sleeve fell back and Snape caught a glimpse of his forearm.

There was a small, neat scar in his skin that looked like it'd been made with a knife, and with a jolt Snape remembered a deserted dungeon classroom in his first year, and Lucius cutting his arm.

"Sir?"

Snape's head shot up. The boy didn't seem to have noticed anything.

"Can I go now sir?"

For a moment Snape just looked into his smooth young face. He could question him, find out what he was up to, find out if it was the thing he thought it was.

"Yes. You may go," he said. He thought perhaps he didn't want to know.

Graihagh sighed with relief when the owl swooped down in front of her with a package from the apothecary in Diagon Alley. She'd had to raise her prices now that she was buying all her ingredients, but she'd been playing with fire, swiping them out of Snape's cupboard. She pushed her bowl of cornflakes in front of the owl and hurried into her dormitory to put the packages in her trunk before morning classes.

She was fidgety and distracted all day, even more than usual, and didn't pay attention to a thing the teachers were saying, even when McGonagall took ten points from Slytherin and Professor Kettleburn chided her for letting her imp get away and Sprout shook her head when the bouncing bulbs she was supposed to be re-potting got loose and whacked her repeatedly on the head. All she could think about was sitting next to Rajiv in the Three Broomsticks with a warm Butterbeer, in one of those corner booths were they'd be wedged so close together they were touching.

She couldn't stop looking at him during the music class they had together. She loved his smooth face, his soft lips, his broad shoulders. She was keyed up and fluttery and belted out her part with gusto even though she wasn't all that great of a singer. She'd been placed with the altos, girls with pleasant low voices who could sing harmony parts, though Graihagh had a sneaking suspicion she'd been put there because she couldn't hit the high notes.

The second she was finished breakfast the next morning, she went to the dormitory to get her cloak and scarf, and when she walked back into the common room Milo was waiting for her.

"Want to walk to Hogsmeade with me?" he said.

Graihagh looked back into his anxious face and wasn't sure what to think. He'd stayed behind the first two times, and she didn't think he'd want to come this time. She wondered if her potions had given him more confidence.

"I told Cate I'd go with her, but why don't you come with us? She's really nice."

"Yeah. Alright," he said, and together they made their way into the Entrance Hall, where Cate was waiting, wearing a Muggle jumper and jeans.

"You must be Milo," she said, flashing him a smile.

"Yeah. Nice to meet you," said Milo, giving her a small nod. He had his hands tucked in the pockets of his robes.

"So you're a Wasps fan, then?" she said as they made their way out of the castle. "I've heard they're really good. I love watching Quidditch, but I'm a lousy flier, my first flying lesson I fell off when I was eight feet above the ground and had to go to the hospital wing. Oh, and this one time I somehow ended up crashing in the Black Lake and the giant squid had to help me get to shore 'cause I'm a terrible swimmer, which is weird because I've been to the sea a lot of times..."

Cate kept chatting away and Milo glanced sideways at Graihagh, who just shrugged and smiled. He'd get used to her.

The sun was bright and the grass had turned green but the wind whipped their faces and crept under their cloaks they pulled them tighter around themselves until they got to Zonko's, Graihagh's favourite shop.

She walked up and down the aisles, looking along every shelf she passed. "Frogspawn soap! I'm buying five of these."

"I think I'll get some too," said Milo.

"Check out these trick mirrors," said Cate from behind her. "This one screams at you."

"Brilliant," said Graihagh. "I should put one in my dormitory." Livia Travers had the bed next to Graihagh's and Graihagh had taken to keeping her hangings closed because Livia kept looking over at her and smirking. The mirror would be perfect for her.

She and Cate and Milo loaded up on merchandise and headed to Honeydukes, Cate's favourite shop, where they started stocking up on Fizzing Whizbees, Pepper Imps and Every-Flavour Beans and it was only when she'd set her bags on the counter that Cate realized she didn't have enough pocket change left.

"I'll treat," said Graihagh, plopping three galleons on the counter. She had so many stacks of coins she'd started feeling like Scrooge McDuck and felt good to do something nice with them.

The wind went right through them as they walked down the high street, so their next stop was The Three Broomsticks, and just as she'd hoped, Rajiv was sitting at a table with a group of other Hufflepuff third-years. He smiled and nodded to them as they made their way over, bags banging against their legs. Theodora glanced at her but didn't smile.

"The cracking young Potioneer," Rajiv said as she sat down. Graihagh flashed a grin at him.

Madam Rosmerta came by and Graihagh ordered Butterbeers for her and Cate. It was her favourite drink.

"So how are things with the Slytherins? Cheated on any exams lately?" Rajiv's expression was deadpan but Graihagh knew he was teasing her.

"No, we're too busy trying to take over the world, didn't you know?" Graihagh shot back. Rajiv smiled at her over his Butterbeer. Milo, she noticed, was quiet.

"Well, you're taking over the Quidditch pitch anyway," said another boy who was sitting next to Rajiv. He had a Chudley Cannons badge pinned to his Cannons jumper and had accessorized the outfit with a Cannons hat."The way your team flattened Ravenclaw in that last match."

The joke about cheating was fresh enough in her mind that Graihagh's face grew hot, even though she wasn't sure it really was cheating if the Slytherin team used her Girding Potion. Probably all the pros took it.

"I reckon our chances against Gryffindor are decent this year," said Rajiv.

Graihagh thought the prospect of Hufflepuff beating Gryffindor about as likely as Snape bringing a guitar to class and singing "Blowin' in the Wind," but she didn't want to make him feel bad.

"Yeah, their Seeker isn't all that great," she said. "Yours is better."

Rajiv gave her another smile, then looked over at Milo. "So, you support Wimbourne then?" he said, noticing his badge.

"Yeah," Milo said. "They've got a great Beater."

"Bagman? He's good, but I think he's past his prime."

Graihagh wasn't sure Milo was going to say anything to this, but to her surprise he spoke up. "I don't know...I think he's been consistent this season," he said.

They started swapping stats then, and Graihagh looked over at Cate and smiled. Milo was starting to come out of his shell.

"Do you play?" Rajiv asked him.

"No, but...I might try out next year," said Milo. Graihagh could tell he was trying not to look at her.

"Didn't you just get a new Seeker last year?"

Milo's forehead creased. "What do you mean?"

"I just meant-no offense mate, but you're sort of on the small side to be playing anything else."

Milo slammed his mug onto the table. "Are you taking the mickey?"

Rajiv looked startled. "No, I was just surprised, that's all."

"I can play, you know. I'm a good flier."

"I'm sorry, mate. I didn't mean anything by it."

Rajiv locked eyes with his friend, who quickly changed the subject, and Milo didn't say a whole lot after that, not even when they walked back to the castle together and it was just the three of them.

"I'm joining Cate after, want to come?" said Graihagh as they sat down at the Slytherin table for dinner.

"No, that's alright," he said, without looking at her. "I've got a lot of homework."

"Are you-"

"I'm sure," he said, and there was an edge to his voice now. Graihagh didn't say anything more.

He seemed annoyed with her, and she didn't know why. She tried not to think about it as she made her way to the basement staircase, where Cate was waiting for her on the bottom step.

She tossed her a bag of sweets."Thanks for treating," she said.

"No problem," said Graihagh, fishing out a Chocoball. She popped it into her mouth. "So does Rajiv ever mention me or anything?" she asked, trying to sound offhand.

Cate gave her a knowing look. "He might have a couple of times. Said you were a big help with essays and all that."

Graihagh couldn't stop herself grinning, but Cate's expression turned serious.

"A lot of girls fancy him," she said. Graihagh knew this was her nice way of telling her he was out of her league, and she was both annoyed and grateful.

They sat awhile just chewing on their sweets, and Graihagh propped her head in her hands, thinking about what a long shot it was. She didn't think she was terrible looking, sort of average really, but her features were sharp and her chest was sort of flat and she still hated brushing her hair.

"I'll tell you something" Cate said, leaning in closer. "I fancy his friend Colin."

Graihagh leaned forwards with her. "The one in the Cannons hat?"

Cate's face reddened, but her smile faltered. "But he fancies someone else. He told me when I asked him to go on a date."

"You went up to him and asked him on a date?"

Cate turned even redder. "Yeah, I know, that was stupid."

"No," said Graihagh. "I think it was really brave actually."

Graihagh sat back and chewed another piece of chocolate, thinking about Rajiv, and even Cate was quiet. Graihagh thought she was watching her sort of sympathetically.

"Tell you what" said Cate, leaning forwards and rocking on her hands, with that manic gleam in her eyes she got whenever she had an idea. "How about we put that frogspawn soap in the girl's toilets up on third?"

Cate always knew just how to cheer her up. Graihagh wiped her chocolately hands on her robes and stood up. "Let's do it then."

They had just put their last bar of soap in the sink when they heard Filch's shuffling footsteps and had to leg it back down to their common rooms. Graihagh stopped at the entrance, clutching a stitch in her side and looking for Milo. He was sitting in their usual spot in the corner, looking over at Thorfinn and his friends with a face full of longing. Graihagh understood exactly how he felt.