Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all these other great characters belong to J.K. Rowling. I just play with them!
10. A quiet week.
Harry's third day at Hogwarts started like the last. He ate breakfast alone, and dropped by the Owlery to check on Hedwig. She flew down when he arrived, looking content as ever.
Afterwards, Harry returned to the Gryffindor common room. He meant to continue his transfiguration essay, the one he had been working on three days ago. He quickly realised he didn't have his book, and cursed. It had to be left in his room, probably kicked underneath the bed or something. Well, he would have to buy a new one, he wasn't going to go back for it, nor did he think it likely his uncle would send it to him. He could easily afford to replace it, the bad thing was that he had made a lot of notes in the book which would be more difficult to recover. And he would have to re-do the entire essay. Damn, he had been almost done, too. With a big sigh, he started on History of Magic instead.
Lunch was another quiet meal. Harry didn't know anything to say except that Madam Pomfrey had dropped by, as agreed, the previous night. Professor Snape's reply had been "Good." Harry was glad when lunch was over.
That afternoon, Professor Snape had him dice dried speckle mushrooms, and make an extract of blight berries.
The work was simple again, and Harry was glad there was no one to distract him. He worked quickly and kept his mind from wandering. Even so, the only thing Snape said when they were done was "Okay." Of course, coming from Snape, and unless you were a Slytherin, that was a compliment.
Harry was once again at a loss to start a conversation during dinner, and he was extremely glad when Nearly Headless Nick dropped by again that evening, together with The Grey Lady, the Ravenclaw ghost.
The next day, Wednesday, Pig flew in when Harry was eating breakfast, followed almost immediately by a school owl carrying a return message from Hermione. Harry retrieved the letters and fed both owls a treat. The school owl ruffled its feathers as Ron's little, overexcited owl fluttered around them. Harry read Ron's letter first.
What a bummer! First those horrible Muggles throw you out and then you end up at Hogwarts with that git? I asked my father if you could come here but he said it was too dangerous. But if you really can't stand it, run away and come to the Burrow, mom will be mad but she'll let you in regardless.
Ron.
Harry grinned. Ron's advise was well-meant but not very practical, he could hardly run off here and return when school started. He opened Hermione's letter.
Harry, I am so glad you are okay after what your uncle did to you! He could have killed you. And what a lousy luck to find Dumbledore is gone for the summer and Snape is in charge. Try to stay out of trouble and get along. At least you will have plenty of time to do your homework and study, with the O.W.L'.s coming up, this summer may yet be good for something.
Hermione.
As Harry read her letter he smiled. Exactly like Hermione, to think of the O.W.L.'s already. But she did give good advice, he had been trying his best to get along and stay out of trouble.
He wrote a brief note in reply to both of them, assuring them he was doing okay so far. Then he spent the rest of the morning reading his Muggle fantasy book, doing homework and he received another visit from Dobby.
He was still with his mind on the book he'd read when he went to lunch.
"Today I want you to work on some antidotes," Snape announced.
Harry started, after the past two days he hadn't expected any conversation.
"Antidotes?" he asked. "What kind?"
"Pretty much any kind," Snape replied. "Apart from the obvious, protection against poisons of many kinds, for each class I must not only stock the antidote for the potion itself but also for the most common screw-ups."
Harry blinked in surprise. Most of the time, people who had accidents in Potions class were sent to the hospital wing, but Harry also knew Madam Pomfrey didn't brew most of her own potions she used. Of course, Snape would have to make sure she had the antidotes to work with. And more than once Harry had seen Snape use some antidote on the spot. But multiple antidotes for every class?
"I never realised," Harry said.
"Most of them go unused. Even in your class, although Longbottom has prompted me to make an even broader selection than I used to. The boy can come up with entirely new poisonous substances and his brews have the most interesting side-effects," Snape remarked.
Suddenly, Harry remembered something. "Professor, does that mean, that time with Trevor..?"
"Trevor?" Snape looked puzzled.
"Neville's toad," Harry explained. "When you made him test that shrinking potion on it, and restored it when it became a tadpole, did you carry an antidote for the poison, too?"
Snape snorted. "Of course. I can't go around killing student's pets, no matter how worthless and non-magical they are. I just tried to scare Longbottom, hoping he would learn to pay attention to what he was doing. Unfortunately, his record hasn't improved since then."
"Ehm, excuse me for saying this, but isn't it possible Neville makes more mistakes because he is nervous? He is scared to death of you," Harry ventured.
Snape did not answer immediately, and Harry silently cursed himself. It probably hadn't been a good idea to question Snape's teaching methods. Wouldn't he ever learn to keep his mouth shut?
To his surprise, Snape continued, "I am well aware of how afraid Longbottom is of me, especially since your third year."
Harry flinched. He remembered the boggart all too well, and while it had seemed extremely funny at the time, he could see how it had been less amusing for Snape.
"It still suits me better than to try and keep my patience through all his fumblings," Snape added, ignoring Harry's reaction.
"It was just a suggestion," Harry shrugged.
"Be nice to him and hold his hand? That's what Professor McGonagall has been doing in Transfiguration. Last I heard, Longbottom isn't allowed to practice on live animals anymore," Snape remarked.
"That is true," Harry had to admit.
"The world would be a better place if Longbottom were a total squib," Snape went on. "At least a squib can live a normal life in the Muggle world. Whereas a wizard who can do magic, but can not control it, is a danger to himself and those around him."
Harry blinked again. He almost blurted out that that was really harsh, Neville was so glad he could do some magic, even if he wasn't good at it. But he stopped himself and thought about it. He was sure Neville would never hurt anyone on purpose. But the teachers and Madam Pomfrey had their hands full with him. And not all wizards learned, Harry remembered the Weasleys telling him about the couple that had tried to apparate and spliced themselves, and he had heard of other instances, too. Would Neville just continue the way he was going after school, providing the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad with loads of work picking up the pieces? Harry liked Neville, and he hoped it wouldn't turn out like that, but…
"I see what you mean," he said aloud.
"So you can think before you speak," Snape observed.
"Sometimes," Harry replied truthfully.
The afternoon was actually pleasant. Harry started with a simple, generic anti-poison, then while it simmered he cut and powdered ingredients for a potion that cleared the airways of various noxious fumes. It was secure work, but Harry found it easier to concentrate than when he had done only counting and sorting jobs. To his surprise, the afternoon flew by.
So did the next two days. Snape was not nearly as harsh as usual. Harry had to ask a few questions, and instead of snapping the answer or telling Harry off for not knowing everything, Snape explained what needed to be done and why.
Before he knew it, it was weekend, and Harry would have two entire days to himself.