Part 2

".can be very dangerous if used on the wrong person, simply because its effects were permanent. It was for this reason that a companion potion formula was created that would have the same effects as the original, but that would only last for a few days. Who can tell me what modifications to the original potion would have to be made for such a change?" Professor Snape stopped mid-pace, eyeing the room, almost daring anyone to raise their hands. It was the first day of potions for the new year and, as always, Gryffindor was stuck with

Slytherin. Ron sat up straight, trying to look as awake, informed, and invisible as possible. There was a silence. Snape must have just asked a question, Ron thought, and he assumed the question position: sitting up, eyes down, staring intently at whatever book is in front of you. He knew that if he stayed this way long enough Snape would either call on Hermione, because she was waving her hand annoyingly, or Harry, because Snape was just mean like that. More silence. Ron broke the code and looked up. His eyes widened. Hermione's hand was not raised. Everyone seemed to have noticed, and the whole class was staring at her in surprise. The only person who didn't seem surprised was Snape. He was smiling.

".I didn't think so. For the past four years I have taught you the how of potions. This year I am going to teach you the why. Its not something you can learn from a book, from late nights of memorization, or even," he stopped mid-thought, glaring. Ron looked beside him and had to restrain a gasp of horror. Elokin, the faerie who just a few days ago had been sorted into

Gryffindor house, was raising her hand. Didn't someone tell her that noone answers Snape unless he asks you to, and sometimes not even then? he thought.

Mentally he went over all the times she could have been informed: in the common room after the sorting no, she went to her dormitory while all the others were giving advice and welcoming the new 1st years, and breakfast no, she hadn't eaten with the rest of the 5ths before class. He mentally cursed the Gryffindor girls for being so irresponsible. They could have told her any time and now look, she was in her ignorance giving Snape an opening to take points from Gryffindor, one of his favorite past-times. The Slytherins were beaming. Snape's lip curled.

"Does are resident exchange student have something to say?" he said in an even tone, which for him was a shocking lack of invective. She nodded.

"To decrease the time length for any potion you take out the infinite, in this case, um," she shuffled through her book, "wormwood, and you and in a partial in the amount which would give the time you want, in this case," she paused here, saying something under her breath, "three-day old rosemary seeds." You could have dropped a feather in the room it was so silent. Even the Slytherins were shocked speechless.

"He must have expected noone to answer," Hermione whispered.

"Yeah, because he's always giving us the questions that noone could possibly ever know, except for weirdoes like him," whispered Ron.

"Five points from Gryffindor for the whispering of Weasley and Granger," he said out of hand, "and five points to Gryffindor for at least one person who studies beyond what is required," The response was no less than utter silence, the utter being added to distinguish this silence from the previous two. Snape had never in the four years that Ron, Harry, and Hermione had been at Hogwarts given points to Gryffindor. He was very House loyal, a point which had reached its extreme last year when he completely ignored Hermione's beaver-sized teeth to avoid taking points from Malfoy. The students were staring at him in disbelief. He, however, seemed to be enjoying the silence.

"As I was saying, the reasons behind the construction of potions are very complex, very intuitive, and will take all of your time and attention to master, for those of you who have the capacity," he eyed Hermione, who seemed herself particularly disturbed. The door swung open, surprising the class. After four years at Hogwarts, even those from Muggle families should have been used to the bell-less school, where a simple opening of the door signaled the end of the class, but almost every student gasped. This made the Professor smile. He always liked when his classes ended with an expression of communal fear.

"For the next class I expect each of you to attempt to remake veritaserum so that the person tells truths in limericks," he said, and each student got up warily and began filing out of the room. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who had been making a beeline towards Elokin, stopped when they saw who was talking to her.

"With the education and power you already have, I think you are going to find it stifling in Gryffindor. I don't know why the Hat put you there, it was obviously a mistake. But don't worry; you can hang out with us. Mistakes happen and we won't hold that against you,"

"You would think that after four years he would have found a new opening line," Ron said as the three came up. Malfoy shot him a look.

"I don't recall inviting you into this conversation, but while you're here I've been meaning to ask, are you really shrinking, or is it that Fred and George are running out of hand-me-downs so now your having to use your father's? It would explain why he hasn't been in the news lately. Too embarrassed to go outside, I should think." Hermione instinctively grabbed Ron's arms, but he gave no indication of moving. Elokin flinched.

"You're a animus wizard," she said, awe reflecting in her voice. Ron looked confused.

"I am? Is that a good thing?" she nodded emphatically.

"It means that most of your magical power comes from within, from your emotions. It marks a very powerful wizard, and a very dangerous one," Ron beamed with pride. He wasn't used to being the powerful one, or even the one who got any attention. Draco perked up.

"What about me? What type of wizard am I? Surely something powerful if even a Weasley can have some power." he mused. She looked away.

"You're all black. I can't see through it," she said, but it looked to Ron like she didn't want to try. Hermione realized that this would be a good time for a change in the conversation.

"Hey, you're taking Arithmancy, aren't you? We had better go, so we aren't late to class," she said, taking Elokin by the arm and leading her down the hall. When they turned the corner, Elokin stopped her.

"I'm not taking Arithmancy. I'm horrible at math stuff."

"Yes, but they don't know that. I do have to go to class, but if you go back to the common room, you're bound to run into Ron and Harry. They're lightweights, taking as little as possible. And try to stay away from Malfoy.

He's bad news," she said, rushing up a flight of stairs.

. .. .

Professor McGonagall's tail twitched on her desk. She had been sitting for about half an hour waiting for Neville Longbotton to finish transmogrifying a vase into a duck. All of the other students had long ago went back to their dormitories, and she hated making him stay, but it was his 5th year and he still hadn't gotten inanimate-animate transmogrification (and vice versa) down. That's partly why she had turned into her cat form. She could see that her presence was making him nervous, so she turned hoping that a cat would be a little less intimidating. Neville seemed a little less nervous, and his vase had begun to for feet, but it always took him several tries to change anything into more of what it should be than what it was and it was time he progressed. She stretched, and thinking that a little can walk couldn't be too bad and that perhaps he would do better if alone, she jumped from the table and strolled leisurely out of the room. She began to walk the halls, always amazed at how tall things were when she was a cat. The paintings all greeted her with the appropriate amount of respect (there was no fooling them) and in some way she was displeased. It was then that she noticed the other cat. She loved meeting other cats, talking with them. Cats, in her opinion, were the wisest and most well traveled of creatures. The cat, upon seeing her, padded up to her. She could see the cat was straining for air.

"You are the professor?" the cat purred, shaking, though McGonagall couldn't see why she would be afraid.

"Yes. Are you in trouble?" the cat looked around, then leaned in.

"Tell Snape that our friend has visitors" the cat purred, almost inaudibly. She then straightened, turned, and scurried away. Without questioning or hesitation (she had learned from years of experience that cats were often more trustworthy than humans) she hurried to Professor Snape's office. He was sitting at his desk, looking at an old photo album. His eyes were wide and revealing, glittering like two lakes in the moonlight. He looked up and immediately slammed the book.

"Professor," he said, standing. Snape always accorded her with respect, just as much as Dumbledore, and with as much reason. She turned, and dusting off her robes looked at him.

"A cat told me to tell you that your mutual friend has visitors." She didn't ask for a reason for this cryptic message. Snape rushed out of his office, hand out, indicating that she follow him.

. .. .

"Can you make the pawn kill the knight?" Elokin leaned over, fascinated by Ron and Harry's game of wizard chess. It was less of a game now, more like a bash-to-blows grunge match, as Harry and Ron made the pieces move as Elokin asked, watching the awed expression she made every time they moved as the boys requested.

"What did you mean, earlier in the hall? That animus wizard stuff?" Ron said, a question he had been building up to ever since Elokin sat down with them in the common room.

"An animus wizard's base of power is their emotions, like I said. You get the most magical energy when you are in an intense emotional state, like anger or fear. That's why it's good, and why it's dangerous." He nodded. That made sense to him.

"How do you know?"

"Well, you flared up, didn't you, when you were mad at that boy,"

"Malfoy," Harry added, hoping if she learned his name she would learn to avoid him. Though she seemed to see through him, he was acting very nice around her and Harry didn't want to see her get hurt. She had gotten Gryffindor points, and that couldn't be bad, and from Snape no less.

"He's the son of Lucius Malfoy?" both nodded. She looked off for a moment, as if that was something to think about.

"I still can't believe that we got points from Snape!" Ron exclaimed, "You must be the best of your school to be sent here and to get points from Snape," he mused.

"Oh no," she shook her head immediately, "I'm no where near the best. The best are scary though, the mages of pure thought. They could cast just with a look. I don't think that's what the Potions Master wanted when he came to see us,"

"The Potions Master? You mean Snape? I thought Dumbledore extended the invitation?" Harry said, remembering what Dumdledore had said during the first dinner.

"He did, but he couldn't come to Faerie himself to extend the invitation. An outsider coming to Faerie is a lot like a vampire coming into a person's home. It can happen, but only by invitation. But once you get an invitation, you can go whenever you want."

"So Snape had an invitation, but Dumbledore didn't?" Harry said, sounding confused.

"Yeah, if I had a Snape-free world, I wouldn't give it up for ANYTHING!" said Ron. Elokin shrugged.

"He doesn't seem that bad..."

"That's cause he gave you points. You haven't seen the worst of it yet. I was so sure that when you raised your hand that he was going to chew you out," said Ron, who would have gone on about Snape's nastiness had Fred and

George not walked up.

"Hey, you friends with that girl with the rifle!" Fred said, taking a seat next to Elokin. Ron rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, Fred, way to start a conversation," Ron had been sour at them ever since they got to Hogwarts. Fred ignored him.

"You mean Chris?" The two nodded, having obviously learned as much as they could about her without actually talking to her. "She got it from a shaman after having lived in his village for a year. That's where she got most of her early training," The twins looked confused.

"Why would a shaman have a rifle?" George asked. The two knew a fair amount of stuff about the shamanic practice, having been fascinated by their ability to affect events within out-of-body experiences.

"He took it from a trader and modified it so that it would shoot bullets filled with whatever mixture he wanted. It really does come in handy sometimes..."

"I can see why!" the twins said in unison, looking excited. They rushed out of the common room without even bothering to cay goodbye.

"Don't mind them. They've been rude all summer." Ron said, staring intently at the chessboard. Harry tried to change the subject quickly by putting Ron's Queen in danger.

"That was a stupid move! And there are times when I think that I'm helping you get better. Really, Harry. Knight to E5,"