AN: No, I didn't abandon this fic! Just been busy, but I'll try to spent a bit more time on it and update more often.
9. Gryffindors and the Potions Master.
Ginny watched her potion carefully as she added the last ingredient, then let it cool, satisfied it was al right. She would like Potions if it weren't for Professor Snape teaching it, she was pretty good in the subject although she rarely displayed her knowledge openly. Hermione told her often enough how Professor Snape called her down for being a Know-It-All, and Ginny had no desire to share that experience. She kept a low profile, and Professor Snape still picked on her often enough just for being a Gryffindor. With a sigh, she started to put away the bottles and jars with the ingredients she had used.
As she put the last item in her bag, she spotted Nathan Macnair from the corner of her eye and she looked up just in time to see him kick her cauldron. Too late to stop him, she still reached out, trying to catch the cauldron, but it toppled over, spilling her potion onto the floor. Nathan had moved quickly and was halfway across the room by the time her startled cry attracted the attention of Professor Snape.
"Miss Weasley, that'll be ten points from Gryffindor for your carelessness," he said in his cold voice.
"Nathan kicked it over," Ginny protested.
"I did not, how could I, I'm all the way over here," Nathan claimed.
"You did, you liar," Ginny said hotly.
"Miss Weasley," Professor Snape warned her.
"Now she's calling me names, too," Nathan whined.
"I'm telling the truth. You're a liar and you kicked over my potion." Ginny knew she shouldn't let herself be goaded like this, but she had spent a lot of time on her potion, and for as far as she could see she'd managed to get it exactly right. Not that she'd have received a high grade for it, no doubt Professor Snape would've been able to find something wrong with it. But now she didn't even have the chance.
"That's enough, Miss Weasley. Five more points from Gryffindor for calling Mr Macnair a liar," Snape said.
"What?! That's not fair! I told you I didn't do it, but you never listen to me anyhow, or to anyone else who isn't a Slytherin!" She was yelling now, and that made the silence when she stopped even more noticeable. Her classmates had all stopped what they were doing, and she thought some were holding their breath.
"Detention, Miss Weasley, tonight at seven," Professor Snape said smoothly.
She almost opened her mouth again, then common sense took over. She really didn't need detention all week, or even more points taken from her house. "Yes sir," she nodded, then turned away from him and all the Slytherins as she wiped up the spilled potion from the floor. She fought against her tears of anger and frustration. She really didn't understand how Harry had managed three weeks with Snape, and he even seemed to get along! He'd never really told her much detail, but today, after class, she'd try again and ask. Perhaps he could tell her something that would help her get through her detention without losing any more points.
She made sure she was well on time. She might not like detention, but being tardy would only make it worse. She knocked on the classroom door and stepped in.
"Evening, Professor," she said with an effort.
Professor Snape always came up with the most unpleasant jobs for Gryffindors with detention, and tonight was no exception. As soon as she entered the dungeon, he handed her a tray full of small, slimy balls. Uncooked mussels.
"Take out the various parts and sort them," Professor Snape instructed her, without acknowledging her greeting or her timeliness.
Ginny nodded. 'Yes, sir," she replied, although inside she felt a stab of anger. Damn, he was rude! But she'd try to follow the advice Harry had given her, remain calm, and if she dared… she wasn't sure yet if she would.
Professor Snape sat down at his desk with a stack of papers to grade, and she took a seat at her usual desk. She started her unpleasant work. People often thought shellfish had just two parts, the shell and the critter itself, but there were several parts and, when uncooked, they were all cold and slimy. Ginny liked mussels –cooked- but after half an hour she wasn't sure if she'd ever eat them again. Yet she kept at it, working quickly but carefully so even Professor Snape couldn't criticise her too much.
Eventually she noticed he was done with the papers in front of him. He straightened and paused before reaching for a second stack. Now or never, Ginny thought. She was nervous. No matter what Harry had said about the Potions Master, she was a little afraid of him. Would he give her another detention or take more points? She'd never lost fifteen points in one day, and she didn't want to lose any more for her house. She could still forget it, simply carry on with her work, and chalk it up as an example that life wasn't always fair. But that felt like she'd chickened out on herself.
"Professor?" she asked.
Professor Snape looked up. "What?"
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have lost my temper this morning."
Professor Snape blinked, but he quickly recovered, staring at her with his dark, piercing eyes.
"I didn't knock over the cauldron, Nathan kicked it. But I shouldn't have argued like that in class."
His eyes narrowed and it was an effort not to flinch. "Do you expect me to let you go?"
"No, sir," she replied truthfully. "I just wanted to tell what really happened."
He stared at her for what seemed to be an eternity, but she didn't look away. "You are right, you shouldn't have lost your temper. I will keep an eye on Macnair. Now finish your work," he said finally.
"Yes, sir, thank you sir," Ginny replied. She was greatly relieved, and also very glad she'd dared speak up. He hadn't actually said he believed her, not in so many words, but this would do for now. She turned back to the mussels, and when she was done she placed the jars neatly on a tray, then wiped down her desk.
"I'm done, sir," she said and she indicated the tray with the various flasks and jars.
Professor Snape got up and walked over. As he checked her work she couldn't read his expression. She held her breath, although she knew she had made no mistakes.
"Acceptable," he said. "You can go."
"Thank you, sir," she replied. She made to leave.
"Wait," Professor Snape said suddenly.
She turned back.
"Miss Weasley, did Harry suggest you talk to me?" he asked.
She hesitated for a moment, then decided it was best to be honest. "Yes, sir. Well, all he said was that you might listen if I explained calmly. No one told me what to say exactly."
Professor Snape nodded slowly. "Real Gryffindors," he remarked.
For just a moment, Ginny was confused, not knowing how to take that comment. This was Professor Snape, who hated Gryffindor. Yet he hadn't sounded hateful. "Thank you, sir," she replied.
"Now I'm sure you have things to do," he added.
"Yes, sir," Ginny nodded. With a last glance she left before he could call her back again.
Professor Snape watched her go. He didn't doubt her side of the story. Truth to tell, he should've believed her when she first told him it had been Nathan who kicked over her cauldron, it was just the kind of thing the boy would do. But he'd jumped on the chance to take points from Gryffindor without trying to establish what had happened, and of course he couldn't back down in front of the entire class. What were a few points, anyhow? The detention had been justified, she shouldn't have lost her temper. No student would get away with yelling at him. Even if it she'd been right.
Damn, what was the matter with him lately. He'd taken points from Gryffindor ever since he started to teach. Partly because it fit with his ruse of being a Death Eater, and partly because those Gryffindors were favored by almost all the other teachers –perhaps not so blatantly and openly as he favored his Slytherins, but it happened nonetheless. And those Gryffindors were just too damn cocky for their own good. It didn't hurt them to be taken down a peg or two, and it certainly hadn't ever bothered him. He hadn't even given it a lot of thought.
Of course, that was a problem now. With that cursed Animagus project, he had to think about it. He'd always ignored those things he didn't like, including the advice that doing so was not a good idea. It had worked fine, and it would've continued to work if it weren't for those blasted sessions of forced soul-searching.
And Harry. If he were going to be honest, he had to admit Harry had gotten through to him before the Animagus exercises ever started. And now Miss Weasley? Next thing he knew all the Gryffindors would expect him to be nice to them. At least Harry hadn't expected him to treat him any different in class, although by assigning him to watch Longbottom he'd done just that. Well, it beat having Longbottom melt his cauldron once a week.
He got up. He was too distracted to continue with his grading, he might as well go for a stroll through the halls. It was almost curfew, perhaps he would catch some students out of their dormitory, and if any of them gave him a reason to assign a detention he'd make sure to give it to Filch.
Things didn't turn out that way. He'd barely left the dungeons when he spotted Harry walking through the corridor. The boy was deep in thought and didn't notice him until he almost walked into him.
"Professor," he said as he started out of his reverie.
"I certainly hope you were not paying so little attention while you were supposed to be patrolling," Professor Snape remarked.
"It's not my shift, sir," Harry replied. "I was just trying to find a quiet place to think. The common room is too crowded and the library is about to close."
Professor Snape frowned. Well, Harry could go where he wanted now, and he could understand the need for some peace and quiet more than he could ever admit, to Harry or anyone else. "Don't stay out too late," he said.
"I won't, sir," Harry promised. Then, just as Professor Snape thought he'd continue on his way, he looked up. "Can I speak with you about something –about the study group?"
Professor Snape blinked, then nodded. "Come along."
He led the way back to his office, where Harry waited without being told until he'd set an additional ward on the room. Not as strong as the ones used on the Charms classroom on Friday, but it would do against any casual listener.
"So what did you want to talk about?" he asked.
"I'm having a hard time with the Animagus exercises," Harry started.
That wasn't what he had expected. "You?" he asked, frowning.
Harry nodded. "I just don't know who I am," he explained. "I know who everyone tells me I am, from the Dursleys who think I'm a freak to almost everyone here who call me The Boy Who Lived and expect me to defeat Voldemort, while I was just a baby back then. I know what other people think, but I just can't figure out who I really am."
"Why are you asking me?" Professor Snape asked. "Professor McGonagall is teaching that class, I'm hardly an expert on the topic." Far less than you'll ever know, he added to himself.
Harry shrugged. "She often does the same thing. Not in class, usually, but whenever anything happens she treats me like I'm some kind of miracle boy, I don't think she'd understand. I can't contact Sirius during the week, and I can't even talk with my friends, for there isn't any place that's really safe to talk. Then I realised you are one of the few people who never saw me as The Boy Who Lived."
Harry, Ron and Hermione had taught everyone the three phrases in Parseltongue, but they weren't working on any more Parseltongue at the moment, and they didn't have access to any warded rooms for now. Professor Snape was pleased to hear Harry hadn't tried to speak with his friends in some blatantly obvious hiding spot that any Slytherin who tried would find in ten seconds flat. But he was not so sure about Harry's assessment of him. He snorted. "I saw you as James Potter's son and a Gryffindor. I'm not sure that's any better."
"But you don't anymore. You treat me just… normal. Even in class."
Well, perhaps he did, now. But he still didn't know how to be of assistance, he was having a hard enough time himself. "I doubt I'll be of any help if I told you who I think you are. The idea is to find out for yourself," he said.
Damn, why hadn't Harry gone to one of his other Professors. He didn't have much experience with students asking for advice, even in his position as Head of House. Slytherins rarely spoke about anything except for simple problems with their school work, to do otherwise was considered a sign of weakness. Then, Animagus training wasn't normally on the curriculum either. Perhaps he should let Joey, Steve and Eileen know they could come to him if they needed to. With their background the training wouldn't be easy for them and they likely wouldn't want to ask Minerva, either. Or perhaps before he offered anything else he should figure out how he could be of help, first. Damn this entire mess.
"What is really important to you?" he ventured.
Harry frowned. "Magic –school. I want to be good at magic, it's what got me away from the Dursleys, and it's really great, but I'm easily distracted too. Quidditch. My friends, of course."
"Well, that's a start. Start with what's important to you and work from there," he suggested. Better than start with the negatives, which was what he'd been doing.
Harry nodded, looking a little doubtful, but at least he didn't ask any further.
"Thank you, I'll try."
When Harry left, Professor Snape was left facing a new problem, helping his students in ways he'd always been able to avoid. But he'd deal with it, he always did. If Harry had chosen him to speak to, clearly he wasn't as unapproachable as he had been. Maybe that wasn't altogether bad. Although of course it shouldn't go too far.