Project Management for Beginners

by snuffly22

Harry had never really properly planned anything before. The fact that his first ever plan was risky and filled with assorted dangers was not actually deterring him as much as it should. (This story explores how Harry's third year at Hogwarts might have played out differently if a little project management and an ambitious plan had been thrown into the mix.)

1. Hit the Ground Running

Disclaimer: All rights to the Harry Potter universe belong to JK Rowling.

Tags: Slow burn, slice of life, gen fic, friendship, shifting POV, though mostly told from Harry's POV

Chapter 1: Hit the ground running

A project management approach can be used to produce a defined product, service or result within a specified period of time. At an early stage therefore, it is sensible to determine the overall objective and desired outcome of the project.

Hermione looked anxiously at her friends, especially at Harry who looked pale and rather distressed, even after having eaten the chocolate provided by Professor Lupin. Ron and Neville also both seemed shaken. Their journey back to Hogwarts for the start of another new school year had just been interrupted by the highly unpleasant experience of meeting a dementor, something which Hermione intended to complain to Professor McGonagall about as soon as she had the opportunity. The capture of escaped prisoner Sirius Black might well be a top priority, but sending dementors onto a dark train filled with terrified children was a reckless plan which could have ended in tragedy. As the train restarted however, the immediate priority seemed to be distracting Harry and the others (and herself, if she was honest) by talking about something else. Anything else, really.

"You're lucky it wasn't worse," Ron was saying to Harry darkly. "Those dementors, Dad says they'll do anything to a person if you give them half a chance. I thought you'd had it mate, and if that thing had just got any closer-"

"Stop going on about it, will you!" Hermione snapped. "I'd really rather talk about a different topic." She still didn't like how unfocussed Harry seemed.

"Well go on then, talk away," Ron said, leaning back and folding his arms as if he thought it was her job to entertain him. "I'm sure you can think of something much more newsworthy than a big dementor showing up in our train carriage!"

Hermione glared at him, but the train carriage had gone quiet and the other two boys were, she thought with annoyance, just waiting to see what she could come up with. Typical Ronald Weasley, he would put me on the spot. And journey's nearly over so of course we've already talked about all of the usual things... her mind raced as she struggled to find a new topic of conversation.

"My father's going to run the London marathon next April," she said finally. It was a dull subject perhaps and they weren't going to be interested but anyway, she'd go with it.

"What's a marathon?" Neville asked. It was clear from Ron's face that he had no idea either. With a burst of self-control that surprised even her, Hermione resisted the temptation to point out how smugly insular and isolated people were in wizarding society and how much better it would be if they all learned a lot more about the muggle world, so that they didn't look like idiots whenever anything muggle was mentioned.

"A race. A competition. People run along a course through the streets which lasts over twenty-six miles and takes several hours to complete. Well of course, the elite runners can finish in just over two hours but my father's completely unfit so he'll need a lot more time. He'll have to go on training runs several times a week to get in shape during the winter and really work hard, and even then he might not complete the course – loads of people have to give up every year. Sometimes it's really warm on the day, which makes the going harder. Mum says it's a mistake to even make the attempt and he should aim for something less difficult, but he wants to raise money for our local hospital – they're trying to update some of the equipment on the children's ward."

"You mean muggles get paid money just to run around?" Ron said incredulously. "How does that work? Could I do it?"

Harry relaxed and smiled at his friend. "Not really, Ron. It's called sponsoring. Someone decides to complete some kind of difficult challenge and then other people, like their family and friends, agree to pay them money if they do what they say they will. Any money raised goes to a good cause of some kind. I think marathons are really hard, though."

Hermione beamed at him, delighted to see her friend looking more like his usual self. "Yes, but my father likes a challenge. He's always working on something extra-curricular; he calls them his 'AI' projects; AI stands for Almost Impossible. Dad often jokes about how getting Mum to go out with him was his hardest AI project yet. But he plans everything out, you see – what the target is and how to get there, interim and final deadlines, materials needed, stages and sub-stages of the plan, who can help him. Then he looks at what are the obstacles and risks, and how he can overcome them. It's all in the planning. You know what they say - fail to prepare, prepare to fail!"

"I'd rather just fail than spend all that time preparing," Ron said, making a disgusted face. "And anyway, who could possibly run twenty-six miles!"

"Of course, you would say that, but I for one applaud his resilience and ambition. When my father puts his mind to something, he doesn't give up. And for your information, there are tens of thousands of people who complete marathons every year."

"Muggles are confusing," Ron grumbled. "Nothing they do makes sense. Dad drives me mad trying to understand them." Ron switched to a passable imitation of his father's voice. "I wish I could grasp how exactly muggle shopping works, Ron. Would you believe it, I went past a big shop called Boots the other day and when I looked in the window, there wasn't have a single boot to be seen!"

Hermione and Harry laughed but Neville was frowning, trying to grasp what was still to him a confusing sports-based concept. "But Hermione, if your father will be a lot slower than those elite runners he can't possibly win. Doesn't that make it just, you know, Impossible instead of Almost Impossible?"

"No, because his target is to complete the race within four hours, not to come in first. He knows even that will be really difficult, but if he works hard it might just be achievable. Dad says it's such a hard thing to run a marathon that everyone who finishes is a winner, really."

Neville looked impressed. "So how much money is he aiming to raise? Will it be a lot of galleons?"

"Well, around £500 I think – perhaps more. That's about a hundred galleons. His friends at the golf club are all sponsoring him, and some of his patients at work too. I just hope he can finish the race, though. If he doesn't, he won't earn anything for the hospital. I suggested a 'per mile completed' sponsorship plan rather than all or nothing, but he felt that might be demotivating, because he could give up half way along knowing that he'd still make some money. Dad wants to finish the whole race, even though it'll be the hardest thing he's ever done".

Ron shook his head in disapproval. "So just to be clear – your father's going to run around and get all worn out for months, all through the winter getting rained on and frozen, then eventually he'll run a twenty-six mile race that he's got no chance of winning and if he doesn't finish it, the hospital gets no money and he's failed completely and wasted months of his time?"

"That's it," Hermione said cheerfully. "It's called aiming high, Ron. You should try it sometime." Harry snorted with amusement, earning him a baleful glare from his friend.

"It's like a quest!" Neville chimed in cheerfully before an obviously offended Ron could say anything more. "I used to read all about quests when I was younger – Gran bought me a book about them. Have you ever read Fifty Fantastic Flights, Fights and Fables? You know, the one with knights and barons and dames setting out on a terribly dangerous task that they might never come back from? My favourite was the tale of Alferic the Ardent. He rode his horse non-stop for six hundred miles in three days to kill five dragons that were attacking his girlfriend's village, then on the way home he was caught in an avalanche and trapped in an ice kingdom filled with snow ghouls and frost fiends for the whole of winter. He had to battle all sorts of monsters to stay alive until the snow melted!"

"Pity he didn't bring one of the dragons with him - he could have used its fire to melt the snow so he could escape," Ron smirked.

Harry grinned, but at that moment his thoughts were elsewhere. The conversation had sparked off an interesting train of thought in his mind. It wasn't related to Neville's book of fables, which apart from being about quests (which was quite a cool name) sounded like fairy tales for little children, and that had no appeal for a boy of his age. However, there was something fascinating about Hermione's father and his Almost Impossible tasks. Harry couldn't help but wonder what it might be like to have a hobby like that for himself. "So, what other challenges has your father done?" he asked.

"Well, the longest one was when he built a model railway in the attic; that took ages because he made all the scenery and platforms and passengers by hand. When I was five, he built a small rowing boat from reclaimed wood and some scrap metal from a local junk yard, then he successfully rowed it across Derwentwater. Oh, and a few years ago we booked a holiday to Italy and Dad decided to learn Italian before we went. He only had four months to study it, so his target was just to become fluent enough to ask directions and order meals out and so on. Dad's grasp of spoken Italian was rather good for the most part, although I do remember one day in a Milanese bistro when I asked him to order me a glass of orange juice and a cheese sandwich for my lunch, and what showed up was a cup of coffee and a steak pie. And that was quite a surprise really, because Dad had told us it was a vegetarian restaurant!"

The others laughed and the subject was dropped as the train began to slow down for the approach to Hogsmeade station. The familiar start of year rituals (and the unwelcome presence of the Dementors) kept Harry both busy and preoccupied for the rest of the day. It was only when he finally got to bed and was stretched out, enjoying the feeling of being back at Hogwarts again and in his comfortable dorm, that there was time to think about the discussion they'd had on the train. He couldn't help admiring the ambition of Mr. Granger's Almost Impossible hobby. As he lazed, Harry imagined himself 'aiming high' like that. The commitment that he'd need, to keep trying and working so hard when there was absolutely no guarantee of success. Didn't that take courage? It seemed like a very Gryffindor-ish thing to do. Of course, it was also ambitious. Ambition itself was a Slytherin quality and therefore regarded as inherently suspect by many Gryffindors, but personally Harry didn't see anything wrong with it because he knew how ambitious Hermione was. He fell asleep soon after but when he awoke in the morning, Harry knew that somehow the decision was made. He was going to have his own quest and it would be even better than Mr. Granger's. Now all he had to do was plan it.

-IIII-

Harry didn't tell Ron and Hermione about his quest idea the next day. He felt a bit guilty about keeping it a secret, but after all it was only a dream at this stage and he hadn't even worked out what to make the quest about. If he couldn't think of a suitable quest and follow through with his plan then Ron would make fun of him - and tell the twins, who would really make fun of him - and Hermione would nag him, which would be even worse. Various ideas for potential quests crossed his mind during the first few days of the term but none of them seemed good enough. Harry wanted something ambitious, daring, risky – but not too risky, he'd had as much danger as he could take during his first two years of school. It had to be… yes, it had to be grand. Harry's initial thought was a quidditch quest – that could be fun, and it even sounded right, two 'q' words together. The trouble was that he couldn't think of any quidditch-related achievements to strive for. He'd already been the youngest seeker for a century and he caught the snitch in most of his matches. He was far too young to play for a professional team, and certainly not for England. So, if quidditch was out - what else was there? He was struggling to come up with anything exciting.

After three days of fruitless thinking, Harry was still lacking in ideas for what his quest could be dedicated to. Eventually he decided to make a few cautious enquiries of one of the other Gryffindors. Percy seemed like a good person to ask, and he found an opportunity to speak to the older boy in the common room one evening, after Ron and Hermione had both gone to bed. Percy was studying, but he willingly put his books aside when Harry strolled over.

"Percy, I was wondering if I could ask your opinion on something? I'm thinking of, erm… doing some kind of…" Harry stumbled as he tried to remember the term that Hermione had used on the train, "oh yes, an extra-curricular project. I want to aim high. Do you have any ideas for what kind of project I could do?"

Percy looked absolutely thrilled to be asked. "Really? What an excellent idea, Harry. I only wish that Ron had your kind of commitment to excellence!" Harry smiled weakly. It was nice to be praised but he hadn't done anything to earn it yet, really. "Well, it's only two years to your OWL year. You could consider adding more electives and aiming for extra OWLs. I managed all twelve, after all!"

Harry was horrified at the thought, but managed to keep this from showing openly. The last thing he wanted was to add any more classes to his schedule, but didn't intend to cause any offence by saying so. "Yes, that could be interesting, but as you say it's already been done. I know Hermione is studying a lot of classes too and I'd like something individual – you know, just for me. It doesn't have to be about schoolwork."

Percy frowned. "Well I suppose you could take up some kind of hobby - gobstones or chess, perhaps. But otherwise, I can't suggest anything offhand. If I think of something, I'll let you know."

"Thanks," Harry said, hiding his disappointment. Neither gobstones nor chess appealed to him. His chess skills were still moderate at best, and two years of consistent defeats to Ron had left Harry will a poor estimation of his own ability. As for gobstones, it was an interesting enough game but to him it had never seemed as entertaining as quidditch, or even as exploding snap. "Don't mention this to anyone else, will you? I'd rather work on it myself first. "

"Of course not," Percy said, turning back to his books.

-IIII-

The following Monday's Potions lesson did not exactly get Harry's week off to a glowing start. Professor Snape's mood, never anything but bad when in the presence of a dozen Gryffindors (and Harry in particular), seemed particularly appalling that day. Harry suspected it was caused by the continuing presence in the school of Professor Lupin, given how much Snape seemed to detest the new Defence professor. The students became instantly silent when the door to the Potions classroom was opened and Professor Snape gestured at them to enter. Most of the Gryffindors were looking nervous – Neville seemed as if he'd cry if given any provocation – while the Slytherins smirked and looked across with unconcealed anticipation, well aware that Professor Snape's anger would not be taken out on them.

"Today you will be brewing Skele-Gro," Snape told them sharply. "This is a potion which is used to repair or replace broken bones. Now, be aware that this potion requires especial precision and care in order to be effective in its creation. Some of you, the ones lacking in even a basic comprehension of how potions are made- ", Snape looked pointedly at Harry, who felt his anger rising, "-will find this particularly difficult. However, I expect and require that all students complete this potion competently, or you will be subjected to my displeasure." Neville gulped audibly and several of the other Gryffindors turned noticeable paler, especially Lavender Brown who looked almost nauseated. Harry sighed inwardly and looked down at his cauldron, knowing that Snape would be displeased with him no matter what. The Professor flicked his wand impatiently and the recipe appeared on the blackboard. "Gather your ingredients and begin."

Harry and Ron's potion began to give them trouble almost immediately. Harry's hand slipped when chopping his puffer-fish, which meant that the diced fish pieces were not uniform in size as the recipe demanded. Shortly afterwards, Ron - who quickly became flustered as he saw how closely Professor Snape was watching them - accidentally knocked the dish of ground scarab beetles to the floor. Several of the Slytherins laughed.

"Fool boy!" Snape roared at him. "Do you think that Hogwarts has unlimited funds at its disposal to buy additional potions ingredients because wasteful students such as yourself simply throw them away? I assure you that it does not. Ten points from Gryffindor for your carelessness."

"But sir, it was an accident!" Ron protested.

"And another ten points for answering back," Snape said, his eye glittering. Harry struggled to keep his anger under control. Couldn't Snape see that Ron had knocked over the bowl because he was nervous? If Snape was less deliberately terrifying in class then students wouldn't make these mistakes! "And you Potter, you should have put the dish of scarab beetles somewhere out of the way so that it wouldn't be knocked over. That'll be another twenty points from Gryffindor for your negligence!"

Harry could feel his anger building. Their bench was crowded with ingredients as well as the cauldron itself, just like those of the other students; there was nowhere that could be called 'out of the way'! Why was Snape like this! Didn't he want them to do well in his class? The man seemed to take a perverse pleasure in ruined potions and distressed children, as long as they were from other houses than his own. Harry smothered his desperate wish to speak his mind, to tell Snape exactly what he thought of him… but that would just lead to more points lost, and probably detention as well. "Yes sir," he replied with gritted teeth and went back to work. Ron did the same, both of them rushing and stumbling to make up the lost time. It made no difference, At the end, their potion was too light in colour and entirely the wrong consistency. Snape vanished it with a lazy stroke of his wand, took great delight in giving them both zero marks and finished by taking another ten points for "complete incompetence and carelessness". At the end of the lesson Harry left quickly, barely listening to Ron's outraged complaints and Hermione's distraught attempts at consolation. Clearly, Snape had not lost his talent for making him feel bad and ruining his mood.

-IIII-

He could try for some kind of house points record as part of his quest, Harry mused as he and his friends strolled across to the greenhouses for a herbology lesson that afternoon. Hermione was always saying that he could earn extra points if he really put his mind to it. But how would he be able to measure if he'd got more points than anyone else? Each house's points scores were combined. Of course, he could ask Professor McGonagall for his own scores and about how they compared to those of others - possibly she would let him know - but he didn't like the idea of doing that. Harry respected his Head of House but her stern demeanour made him nervous. He had no idea of her age but he suspected that despite being surrounded by children every day, she didn't actually understand or remember what being young was like. Quite possibly she might disapprove of his plans and tell him to just get on with his work. There didn't seem any reason to even try to earn points anyway though, since Professor Snape took points away from him during Potions almost as soon as he earned them in other lessons. Harry frowned at the thought of his less-than-esteemed Potions master and the terrible lesson that morning. Whatever quest he chose, if Snape knew about it then he'd take great pleasure in sabotaging his efforts. And if his quest was to be brave and majestic and spectacular, as he wanted it to be, then how on earth could it be kept a secret from Snape at all?

"Are you going to tell us what's wrong or just leave us to guess?" Ron asked, breaking into his thoughts. Hermione was already ahead of them, her pace faster, reaching into her bag for her notebook as she walked.

"What? Oh no, nothing's wrong," Harry said hurriedly. This was true, but did he did feel a bit awkward at not telling Ron what was on his mind.

"I thought it might be, you know…" Ron lowered his voice, "I thought maybe you were worried about Sirius Black."

"Not more than usual. He's out there somewhere and he wants to kill me, but I should be safe in Hogwarts. I'm just thinking about, err, some stuff I need to get done."

"What stuff?"

Harry hesitated. He was still sure that he didn't want to tell Ron about the quest, at least not before he'd got further in and had a proper plan, but he didn't want to lie to his friend either. "Erm… I'm thinking about a project. I just—"

"Ron, Harry, the lesson's starting," Neville shouted. He was about thirty feet ahead, standing impatiently in the greenhouse doorway "Hurry up!"

"Blimey, he's eager," Ron grumbled, but he picked up the pace all the same. Harry grinned, very grateful for the change of subject.

-IIII-

Time passed and Harry was still coming up short on any kind of acceptable quest objectives. He was starting to become frustrated at this. Surely it shouldn't be that hard to set himself a challenge! Term was over a week old and still he had nothing. Reluctantly, Harry decided that further research was required. It was time to visit the library – but on his own if possible. Fortunately, he had an opportunity the following afternoon when he and Ron both had a free period after lunch.

"I'm going to the library," he said to Ron after Hermione had left for her Arithmancy lesson. "Want to come?" Say no, say no, please say no…

"No chance! We'll be doing that later," Ron said, pulling a face as he finished off his pudding. "She'll make us - you know she will!"

Harry grinned. "Yeah, but I'd rather go now anyway. See you later, then?"

"Okay."

Relieved, Harry stood up and strolled out, stopping to say a quick hello to the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan. They were, perhaps fortunately, too busy in hushed conversation to take much notice of him. Harry smirked when he heard the muttered words "yeah, we'll need a diversion…" as he strolled away.

Of course, the main disadvantage of going to the library alone was that he didn't have Hermione to tell him exactly what book he needed and exactly where that book could be found. Harry was also hampered by the fact that he didn't actually know what he was looking for. Asking Madam Pince to help was technically possible of course, but even the bravest Gryffindor would think twice about spending time with the stern librarian unless there was absolutely no alternative. After twenty minutes of aimless meandering, Harry settled down at one of the tables with four books he'd found which might have some useful suggestions; Great Expeditions of Times Gone By and Tales of Ambitious Achievers Across History, as well as Don't Flinch From Fear – How to Be Bold and Dynamic in Life! and, most promisingly perhaps, The Wizarding Guide to Knowing What You Want, AND Getting It! Optimistically, Harry opened the first book and started to read.

"These are hopeless!" Harry muttered to himself half an hour later. None of the books had the answers he sought. They all held stories of acclaimed achievements, great historical events and tips for being famous and renowned (which he surely didn't need, anyway) – but none of the contents seemed to relate to him, somehow. Even the book about knowing what you want and getting it hadn't been a success, though Harry had been amused at some of the content. He thought he might show it to Hermione sometime. She would surely appreciate Chapter 21 – 'How to make others fall into line with your point of view'. Actually, she'd probably helped write it.

"Hello, Harry," said a voice from behind him. It was Percy Weasley, who was carrying at least nine books as well as a roll of parchment and a quill with a casual ease which Harry rather admired. "Glad to see you so productively occupied. Homework, is it?"

"Well no," Harry replied in a low voice, although nobody seemed to be nearby. "It's the extra-curricular project I mentioned to you – well, I'm calling it a quest. I've been trying to come up with ideas for it from these books. Still no luck, though."

Percy frowned and sat down next to him, plopping his possessions on the desk. "When you say a quest, is that in the historical sense? If so, then perhaps in our earlier conversation I didn't grasp the concept well enough to give you sound advice."

"Oh well, perhaps if I tell you a bit more about it…" Harry proceeded to recount the whole discussion they'd had on the train. It took Percy almost as long to understand what a marathon was as it had Ron and Neville, but by the end of the explanation he was nodding along intelligently.

"Well, given what you've told me I can quite see what those books aren't of any use to you," Percy said surprisingly.

"Really? But I thought they'd help. There's lots of ideas in them."

"Yes, but they're not yourideas. You told me when we last spoke of this that you wanted something that was individual and just for you. That means you need to personalise it. These books might give you some clues but they can't provide the answer." Percy noticed that Harry looked visibly disappointed and hurried to clarify. "Harry, your aim is commendable; you just need to find the right focus. If I were in your shoes and had this ambition, I would think about the things in life that held me back, and acted as barriers to block me from achieving what I know I'm capable of achieving. Then I would base my plan around removing those barriers. That's my approach though - and as I say, this has to come from you."

"Barriers? I hadn't thought of it that way." Harry bit his lip absently as he considered this new angle. "I can see what you mean though… I'll have to think about that. Thanks, Percy."

"You're welcome," he smiled, a touch self-importantly. "I always enjoy helping others. I do sometimes with that Ron would pay more attention to what I tell him, and as for Fred and George! Well, I'll leave you now but if you want to talk about it again, be my guest. I will gladly help you out, if I can."

"Great, thanks again." Percy nodded and headed off, leaving a rather confused boy behind him.

-IIII-

It was a few days before Harry was able to find time to return to the subject of his quest. A combination of increased school-work and a rigorous quidditch practice schedule were taking up a great deal of his time. In the end he set an alarm for 05.00 that Friday morning, drawing his bed curtains and using a simple Silencing charm the night before to avoid waking anyone else up. Ron and the other boys were still asleep as he quietly got ready and went down to the common room, carrying his school bag. There were a few others up early as well, mostly fifth-year or seventh-year students already looking a little harassed by the thought of their end of year OWL or NEWT exams. Harry said a couple of casual good mornings and curled up in a corner armchair with a piece of parchment and a quill. If anyone came over then he would pretend to be doing homework but actually, now it was time to decide on a quest – and if he couldn't do it now, he never would. Percy had talked about barriers, and not achieving potential. What were his barriers?

Well, there were the Dursleys of course. They had stopped him achieving things since he was a small child. Harry's lack of friends at primary school, due to the fact that Dudley scared off anyone who wanted to play with him, was evidence of that. And he'd not been able to do well at school because his aunt and uncle immediately accused him of cheating if his scores exceeded those of his cousin, so he'd under-achieved at his lessons which would have counted against him, had he gone to Stonewall High. Probably they'd have looked at his mediocre scores and put him in a lower class to start with. Even so, he'd have been able to work to his potential once he wasn't at the same school as Dudley, maybe moving up to the top classes in time. He'd also have been able to make friends there. However, those things didn't matter now. He was a wizard at Hogwarts boarding school, and this was his safe space where they could do nothing to damage him. He only saw the Dursleys for a month or so in the summer. Dudley and his horrible friends had still to be tolerated and evaded, his Aunt and Uncle were still unpleasant and unreasonable… Harry thought ruefully about the incident with blowing up Aunt Marge over summer, which he knew he was lucky to have got away with. But where they actually holding him back any more? He had to admit that they weren't - not really. Which was just as well, because it would be easier to run a hundred marathons than to get the Dursleys to actually like him! Harry grinned at the thought.

Of course, there was the fact that he didn't have any parents, or people who wanted to take a parental role in his life. That was a barrier to happiness, really. For not the first time, Harry thought about his home life compared to Ron's. Harry knew that Ron, who was knee deep in family members both at home and abroad, would never understand what it meant to be unwanted. Ron didn't value his family as Harry would have done, had he been a Weasley too. During his visits to the Burrow, Harry had revelled in the chaos, arguments, distractions, cheerfulness and overwhelming sense of belonging he felt there. Still, he was only a guest, however welcomed. It wasn't the same as being a part of that world. If he ever fell out with Ron then he'd never be invited there again. Harry wanted a family, a proper one - but he couldn't have a magical family of his own, could be? The Headmaster had told him so. It had to be the Dursleys, with his mother's last gift of her blood and magic protecting him - but staying with the Dursleys was a heavy price to pay, in return for his physical safety.

Harry shook his head, willing himself to think more cheerful thoughts. The next thing was friendship; were there any barriers there? He couldn't think of any. As well as Ron and Hermione, Harry was on good terms with the other third year Gryffindors, plus the other Weasleys, and he there were several students he liked in Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. He'd made some friends in the other years as well, through being on the quidditch team.

Starting to feel desperate for an answer, Harry took up his parchment and wrote in large bold letters:

WHAT IS THE MAIN BARRIER TO ACHIEVING MY POTENTIAL?

As first as he stared at the letters, nothing came to him at all. But then into his mind flowed memories of failed potions, of sarcasm and humiliation, of a lack of encouragement and a Professor who took pleasure in seeing him fail. With a shaking hand and a sudden sense of dread, Harry wrote one more word on his parchment.

SNAPE