Chapter 7: Snippy Snipey Snape
Siri and I both made it into Gryffindor, as did the Evans twins – the Muggleborns from the train. So far, the dorm seems like the loneliest place on earth. Siri has already turned James against me, and a boy named Peter Pettigrew seems to be following their lead. I don't trust him; he doesn't feel right. Remus Lupin seems alright though. Kind, a bit wary. Understandable, given...
"I heard his uncle was a mass murderer."
"I heard his father worked for You-Know-Who."
"That whole family's dark."
"Mark my words: he'll be a killer one of these days."
"Thanks for planning my career. Would you like me to start with you?" Leo replied in a pleasant tone.
The fourth year looked stricken before running off, most likely to gossip to her friends. Leo snorted before continuing down the stairs, ignoring the rest of the whispers. The entirety of the school was talking about two things: himself and Harry. Whilst Leo didn't mind the attention and – after years of living with the Dursleys and going through public school – insults failed to have any sort of impact on him, Harry was having a much harder time on their first day of school.
The constant whispers and staring were troubling the poor boy, leaving Leo with no choice but to do what he did best: make mischief and draw attention. He put liberal amounts of oatmeal in his spoon before flinging the contents at a second-year Ravenclaw who had been staring at Harry and whispering to his friend. The boy turned around angrily, looking for the cause. Leo pointed at George, prompting the boy to throw his plate of pancakes at the redhead.
From there, chaos erupted. Food was thrown across the hall, over tables, and landing on just about anyone and everyone. Leo swore he even saw Dumbledore throw a small grape in Snape's direction before looking down innocently at his food. Leo was sorely tempted to throw something at Snape as well, but the git was looking at him with such disdain that the blonde knew he would never get away with it.
Fortunately for Leo, he never got caught as the one who started the food fight. The only ones who knew were himself, the twins, Lee, and he was pretty sure Dumbledore knew as well. Unfortunately, there was no time to change clothes before heading to class. However, once there, Leo found the classes to be more diverse and fascinating than he had originally thought they would be.
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 fire and got up next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Leo found him quite fascinating until he started talking.
Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. Leo thought it was quite funny when, at the start of their first class he took the roll call, and when he reached Harry's name, he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight.
Professor McGonagall was again different. Leo 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 the 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 a girl by the name of Hermione Granger and Leo himself had made any differences to their matches; McGonagall showed the class how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave Hermione and Leo each a rare smile.
The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, 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 this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan 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 that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went. Leo didn't think it worked very well, given Snape was still around
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 once.
"Alert the press, a miracle has occurred!" Leo greeted them that morning.
"Not everyone can remember where everything is like you, Leo," Harry rolled his eyes.
"I had great teachers," Leo winked.
Indeed, he had been out every night with the Weasley twins exploring the castle and its many passageways. It gave Leo the benefit of knowing where everything was and how to get there in a timelier manner.
"Wish you could've showed us," Ron grumbled.
"Sorry, been sworn to secrecy," Leo shrugged. "If I tell you, the International League of Mischief Makers will send a team of assassins to kill us all. It's the law."
"What have we got today?" Harry asked, interrupting Ron's heated response.
"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's true."
"Wish McGonagall favored us," said Harry.
"If she did, life wouldn't be quite so interesting," Leo commented, eating a forkful of chocolate pancakes.
Just then, the mail arrived. Leo 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 letters and packages onto their laps. Apollo hadn't brought Leo anything so far. Though, he seemed to enjoy swooping in every morning, landing on his head, and dropping a dead mouse on the table.
When he did so that morning, Leo had to say, "Alright, this has to stop. Most people don't enjoy seeing a dead mouse at the table."
Hoot.
"Don't tell me to 'get over it', you're the one doing a mouse delivery." Hoot. "Grateful? For what? For you ruining a perfectly good meal?" Hoot. "We both know you're not doing it to be nice, you're doing it to be rude." Hoot. "Incentive not to? What, you want to make a deal?" Hoot. "Fine. All my bacon and sausage every morning in exchange for no more mice – or any other dead animals. Deal?"
Apollo gave a hoot of agreement before retrieving his mouse and flying out the Great Hall. Once he left, Harry showed Leo the note he had gotten from Hagrid, asking to meet for tea later. The blonde gave a shrug, stating that he'd try but made no guarantees. He wasn't in the habit of making plans or commitments – he found they left little room for sporadic adventures to take place.
Potions lessons 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 walls.
Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call. Unlike Flitwick, his lip curled upward and an angry sneer crossed his face at Leo's name. 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 snickered behind their hands. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but reminded Leo of the dark, creepy tunnels in the lower parts of Gringotts.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word — like 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 really 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 stopper death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
Insulting. Bit of an ego. Huge git. Someone is definitely getting knocked down a few pegs. Leo decided, planning to consult with the twins and Lee at a later time.
"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
"I don't know, sir," said Harry.
Snape's lips curled into a sneer. "Tut, tut — fame clearly isn't everything."
He ignored Hermione's raised hand.
"Black, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat.
"Not a clue," Leo replied honestly.
"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Black?"
"Not really, considering you're supposed to be teaching us," Leo pointed out.
Snape's lip curled upward as he said, "Five points from Gryffindor, for your cheek, Black."
Leo had to bite his tongue to stop himself from asking 'which cheek'? Snape turned back to Harry, still ignoring Hermione's quivering hand.
"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.
"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"
"Sit down," Snape snapped at Hermione. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that 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 pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. Unfortunately for Leo, he was paired up with Draco.
"You have a lot of nerve talking to Snape like that, Black," Draco commented, weighing his dried nettles.
"I'm in Gryffindor, I believe it's a requirement," Leo replied dryly, crushing their snake fangs.
"You didn't have to be," Draco persisted. "If you had listened to me, you could've been in Slytherin – where you belong."
"The hat considered it for two seconds – then said I lacked ambition and a sense of self-preservation so..." Leo shrugged. "Joining your Secret Snake Society wouldn't have given me either of those things. Besides, not sure if I'd fit in with you tunnel snakes."
"How do you know? You've never even met them."
"Hmm, fair enough," Leo conceded, adding the snake fangs.
"...We could fix that, you know," Draco stated in an even tone, stirring the potion. "Meet with some of the Slytherins after class. We'll show you that you're meant to be with us."
"Doubtful, but an interesting idea nonetheless," Leo tapped his chin in thought, adding the horned slugs with his other hand. "Fine, I'll meet your friends, Draco."
At that moment, Snape came by and began telling everyone to look at the perfect way Draco had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. The round-faced boy –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 up 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."
Leo began to rise from his seat when Draco grabbed his arm, shaking his head. Leo gritted his teeth and remained quiet, silently fuming as they continued making their potion. Once class ended, Leo followed Draco and the other Slytherins into a chamber off to the side of the dungeons. As the door closed behind him, Leo belatedly realized that he very well could've walked right into a trap. Oops.
Draco set about introducing him to everyone. Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, he already knew, but there were more. Millicent Bulstrode, a black-haired girl with a heavy, jutting jaw. Daphne Greengrass, a pretty blonde girl with blue eyes. Theodore Nott, a tall, thin boy with sandy hair and an oafish face. Pansy Parkinson, a pug-faced girl who was constantly making moon eyes at Draco. Lastly, there was Blaise Zabini, a dark-skinned boy who came off a bit as an arrogant prick.
"So, you're the half-blood son of the Castor Black," Zabini confirmed.
"That's what they sowed on my shirt," Leo joked in response.
"He and my mother were engaged once. But he broke it off for that Mudblood bit-"
"Nice to know dear old dad had standards," Leo cut across him, eyes narrowing as he stepped forward. "And if you want to retain the mental capacity to have them as well, I highly recommend not insulting my mother. Especially not in front of me."
"We're here to talk, Zabini. Not start fights," Greengrass stated, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Besides, you're not really one to talk, now are you? Your mother's on what? Husband number five?"
Zabini flushed as Draco said, "No, six. Five died three months ago."
"Six didn't look like he was going to last much longer either," Parkinson cackled.
Zabini looked around at them all, looking for any signs of help. When none was forthcoming, he huffed and stormed out of the room, slamming the door closed behind him. An awkward silence ensued following his departure.
"Someone's got daddy issues," Leo remarked, earning snorts of laughter from everyone. "Is it always like that around you lot? Constant insults and disparaging each other?"
"Why, not used to it, Black?" Nott questioned with a small smirk.
"Not used to clever ones, no," Leo replied in an even tone. "I've been known to throw out many a witty remark. Never had the amount of dirt you seem to know about each other."
"All pure-blood families know each other, Black," Draco informed him. "And all the best ones have a little dirt on the others. We keep things secret, but Slytherins always find a way to learn those secrets."
"So, it's a game of keeping your skeletons in your closet whilst trying to find everyone else's?" Leo confirmed, receiving nods in return. "Sounds bloody exhausting."
"But it's useful," Greengrass stated. "You never know when the little bit of knowledge you learn may save your life. And you never know what bit of knowledge others may know to ruin yours. Keeps life interesting."
"Fair point – I do like to keep life interesting," Leo conceded with a tilt of his head. "But who do you know who to trust – who do you know is your friend?"
The Slytherins all exchanged a look before Draco replied, "You never know, not for sure anyway. Make friends and stay loyal, but always be prepared for a knife in the back."
A/N:
I know it's been a bit since I've posted, but rest assured I haven't given up on this project. I'm already up to book five in my writing, I just keep forgetting to post new chapters due to my busy schedule. Hope you all understand. Anyway, I'll try to post more often.
Cheers!