After the Dawn: The Philosopher's Stone
Chapter Six: Potions and Other Problems
It was Friday morning. Harry had spent much of the night before reading up on Potions information, as Sirius had warned him to be prepared.
Harry knew that Snape wouldn't like him, not after their first meeting in the Great Hall, but he also didn't really care. Snape hadn't liked Harry's father either. Or Sirius. Or Remus. Or Harry's mother.
This, in Harry's mind, pretty much made Snape an enemy. He knew that he was being biased, but he could neither like nor trust the potions master … maybe that could change, most likely it would not.
"What's first today?" Harry heard Seamus ask Ron.
"Double Potions with the Slytherins," Ron groaned in reply. "My brothers say that Snape is head of the Slytherin house, and that he always favours them. We'll be able to see if it's true …"
"Wish McGonagall favoured us," Dean Thomas put in. Harry smirked – they obviously hadn't enjoyed getting homework. Harry was just about to start on a piece of toast when the post arrived.
Harry was one of the few first years who hadn't been particularly startled when the post had arrived on the first morning. Several of them – Muggle borns, he assumed – had actually screamed when over one hundred owls had suddenly flooded through the doors of the Great Hall.
Hedwig had come every morning, so far not bringing any letters or parcels, but Harry was expecting that. She came anyway, to nibble on Harry's toast or sip his pumpkin juice.
He liked seeing her anyway – he didn't mind befriending animals. It was just humans that he shunned. But today he had a letter. He was surprised, and opened it.
Mr. Protectium,
I would like to see you in my office at lunch time today. Don't worry, you aren't in trouble.
Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress.
Harry shrugged and tucked the note into his pocket, he didn't know what she'd want to talk to him about, nor did he really care. He was focusing on Potions at the moment.
Harry knew that Snape disliked him after what had happened on the first day of term. By the end of the first potions lesson, Harry realised how wrong he'd been. Snape hated him.
Potions were held down in the dungeons, Harry was glad that Sirius was with him, walking through the dank, windowless passageways until they reached the doors of Snape's classroom.
Snape started the class with a roll, and paused as he reached Harry's name. "Well, well, well," he said sinisterly. "Our new … Celebrity. Nemo Protectium."
Draco Malfoy and two goons that followed him laughed softly at this. Harry's eyes narrowed dangerously, but he said nothing, refusing to rise to the bait.
He remembered the second time that he'd met Draco Malfoy – it one the second day of school.
"Well, Nemo," Malfoy had greeted him. "Nice to see you again."
Harry nodded once, in acknowledgement.
"You do know that it's polite to actually say something when you are addressed, don't you?" Malfoy asked.
"Oh?" Harry asked coldly. "Is it? Very well, I'll say something: Get out of here – I don't want to talk to you and I don't want to be your friend! Scram!"
He'd been getting ruder and ruder to the people who'd been talking to him. He hated them all coming, asking if he was alright, saying how brave he was, wanting to be his friend … Probably just so that they could brag to others about it.
"I'm not a good enemy, Protectium," Malfoy had sneered then. "If you'll be my friend I can show you all the things that mean something in today's world."
"I don't think I need help, Malfoy," Harry hissed. "I don't need friends, and I understand enough about today's world to be getting on with. Now get lost."
Malfoy had strode away angrily. Harry knew he'd made another enemy. Oh well, at least that was one person who wouldn't be trying to make friends with him.
As he finished marking the roll, Snape looked around the class. His eyes, black and cold, reminded Harry of dark, empty tunnels. He shivered slightly.
"You are hear to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. His voice was very soft, but Harry didn't have to strain to hear him. The class remained deadly silent – Snape was just that kind of teacher.
"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 the humans veins, bewitching the mind and ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory … Even stopper death. That is, if you aren't as big a group of dunderheads that I usually have to teach." He seemed to be looking at the boy Neville Longbottom, and Ron Weasley's group as he said this.
Harry noted that the brown haired Hermione Granger looked very eager to start proving she wasn't a dunderhead. Harry knew that he couldn't care less, what Snape thought of him.
"Protectium!" Snape barked suddenly, and Harry looked at him coldly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Harry noted that most of the people in the class looked stumped by this question. Hermione Granger had her hand in the air, obviously knowing the answer.
Harry smiled – he knew the answer to this question! "A sleep potion called Draught of the Living Death," he said, and felt mild relief when Snape nodded grudgingly.
Harry felt Sirius rest a paw on his leg in congratulations, and was happy.
"Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
Hermione had her hand up again. Harry thought for a minute. Bezoar … Where had he heard that before?
That's right! Harry and Dan had once found a mouse that had been poisoned. Not wanting it to die, they'd taken it to Sirius, who had smiled and taking a strange looking stone from a cupboard, putting it in water to soak, and then administering the water to the mouse, which had quickly recovered.
"From the stomach of a goat, Sir," Harry said, remembering what Sirius had told him afterwards. This had been not long after Harry had told Dan about himself and Sirius.
Snape looked sour.
Harry felt sour. If he hadn't grown up with Sirius, he would never have been able to get these questions! How was a student supposed to remember everything from One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi?
"What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
Harry knew this one too – Sirius had told him about wolfsbane, something that he had come across during his association with his werewolf friend, Remus Lupin.
He had told Harry that wolfsbane was a magical plant that could keep werewolves away from you … He'd also said that it had several names … and one of them was monkshood!
"They are the same plant, Sir," Harry said, relieved.
"It is also known as aconite. A bezoar can save you from most poisons, and the Draught of Living Death is so named because the victim looks dead, but is only asleep. It has been known for people who have taken this potion to be buried alive. Well? Why aren't you copying this down?"
Hermione was, Harry noted, and he quickly followed suit. Most the students had to rustle around in their bags in search of quill, ink and parchment.
Harry already had his out, and copied everything down as well as he could remember. "You want to be careful, Protectium," Snape hissed suddenly. Harry only then realised that the Professor was behind his chair.
"I will be watching you. The headmaster may trust you, but I do not. One point from Gryffindor!"
Harry didn't say anything – he knew that Snape was trying to make him rise to the bait, but he wasn't going to give Snape what he wanted.
Things didn't improve. Harry had to work Hermione Granger on the potion, so that wasn't too bad. They were mixing a potion to cure boils. Harry was concentrating on his work as much as he could.
Snape was stalking around the dungeon criticising almost everyone … Only Draco Malfoy was safe. Snape seemed to like him. As he told everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs (Harry immediately noted that if Malfoy kept up in the way he was, smiling proudly around the dungeon and paying no attention to his potion, he wouldn't have a very good end product).
But Harry had no chance to speak of his observation, as the cauldron next to him, on which Neville Longbottom and Seamus Finnegan had been working, was suddenly sending clouds of acid green smoke through the dungeon, and a hissing noise filled the air.
The cauldron they'd been working on was ruined now, and their potion seeping across the floor, melting holes in peoples shoes. Harry quickly jumped onto on his stool, while Sirius scrambled onto a rock ledge behind Harry's desk at the back of the room.
Hermione didn't seem to realise that the potion was about to hit her – she was frozen to the spot, watching Neville, who had been drenched in the potion and was moaning in pain as boils started popping up all over him.
Harry sighed, and grabbed Hermione's hand, pulling her onto her own stool.
"Idiot boy!" Snarled Snape as he swished his wand, getting rid of the potion and walked over to Neville. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire."
Neville could only whimper – the boils were now popping up over his face. "Take him to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus, then rounded on Harry.
"You – Protectium! – why didn't you tell him not to do that? Though he'd make you look good if he got it wrong and you didn't, did you? One point from Gryffindor!"
Harry was about to protest, when he felt Sirius's nose touch the back of his leg comfortingly. He didn't say anything, and glared at Hermione when she would have opened her mouth.
An hour later Harry could escape the dungeons. He ignored all attempts at conversation that didn't regard the work they were doing from Hermione, and did his best to ignore Snape as well, and Malfoy, who'd spent the remainder of the lesson sneering and taunting Harry about losing points.
He escaped as quickly as possible, heading out onto the grounds with Sirius at his side. There was the man, Hagrid, working in a garden outside of his house.
Wanting more information about the parcel that Hagrid had picked up, Harry headed over to him.
Hagrid looked up as Harry approached. "Hullo," he greeted with a smile. "You're the new kid, Nemo, right?"
"Yeah," Harry replied. "You may not remember, or recognise me, but we met in Diagon Alley. I looked different though, then."
"Were yeh the kid that picked up the Philo- the package I had with me in Gringotts?" Hagrid asked. Harry noted the half slip of Hagrid's tongue, but pretended not to.
"Yeah," he replied. "My cousin didn't want to be recognised, so we both looked different."
Hagrid nodded. "Why don't ye come in and a have a cuppa?" he asked with a smile. "Bring ye dog, I've got one o' my own – they should get on just fine!"
Harry nodded his acceptance. "Sure," he replied.
Sirius glanced up at him, surprised. Harry ignored it. He would tell his godfather about the package soon. But not yet …
"How's ye firs week been?" Hagrid asked him.
Harry shrugged. "Alright. I just had potions, and the teacher seems to hate me."
"Snape? Nah – 'e's just like that," Hagrid told him. "He don't like no one, Snape don't."
Hagrid's dog, a great black boarhound, and Sirius, were apparently introducing themselves.
"Made any friends?"
"Yes," Harry replied. "The Gryffindor ghost, Sir Nicholas."
"No friends among the living?" Hagrid asked with a faint smile.
"None, save Ardeo," Harry replied, nodding to Sirius.
"Don't like us humans, eh?"
"Oh, I like people well enough, I just don't want to make friends fast … Not after … Not after something that happened to me a few years back," Harry replied, but said no more.
While Hagrid bustled around the kitchen making tea, Harry saw a cutting from the Daily Prophet and read it over.
GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST
Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown.
Gringotts' goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day.
"But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts' spokesgoblin this afternoon.
"Hagrid," Harry said suddenly. "Wasn't the 31st the day that you were in Gringotts?" He knew it was, of course. "Maybe the break-in happened while we were there!"
Hagrid didn't meet his eyes at that, Harry thought. The man just shrugged his huge shoulders. "Who knows? Only them goblins, and they aint telling."
So, was the package of Hagrid's the one that the dark wizards of witches had been looking for? It certainly seemed that way.
Harry had to leave soon after to get to his appointment with Professor McGonagall, but he bid Hagrid a cheerful farewell, and promised to come again fairly soon.
"Ah, Mr. Protectium," McGonagall greeted him as he arrived in her office. "Take a seat."
Harry did so, feeling nervous. He tangled his fingers in Sirius's fur to reassure himself. "What did you want me for?" He asked, voice small.
"Mr. Protectium, I have noticed that you have no friends among classmates. This disturbs me – a boy your age should have many friends and spend a lot of time with them," McGonagall began.
Harry's eyes flashed. "I don't need friends," he said harshly. "And why should you care if I have them or not?"
"I beg to differ, Protectium," McGonagall sighed. "You do need friends, and you will always need them. They will help you get through your life. As to why I care whether you have them or not – well, I am your head of house. That means that I care if you aren't happy."
"I am happy," Harry insisted. "Besides, Hermione Granger doesn't have friends. I don't see her here!"
"Miss Granger is trying to make friends," McGonagall replied. "She may not be succeeding, but she is making an effort. You are not, and therefore it is you I am more concerned for."
Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I don't want any friends," he said. "They can be used to hurt you."
"Who told you that?" McGonagall.
"My best friend," Harry replied painfully.
"I hardly believe a friend would say something like that," McGonagall told him.
"He didn't say it, but he showed it when he died because of me," Harry replied coldly, standing up and walking out of the room. Sirius followed him.
Minerva McGonagall watched the two of them stride away up the corridor outside of her office. The boy's back was stiff, and the dog looked sad.
"You will learn that I am right, I think, Nemo Protectium," she murmured. She did not call him back.
***
As she watched the young boy leaving her office, Minerva McGonagall thought back to her conversation with Dumbledore, the morning after he'd arrived.
"Are you sure we can trust this new boy? This Nemo?" she asked the Headmaster.
"We can trust him," Dumbledore replied. "I knew that he was lying about his last name, and possibly his first as well, when he first came to my office … but he freely admitted that this was the case. He told me that for reasons of protection, he could not give me his true name … Not without putting others in danger."
"Are you sure that this is the case?"
"Yes, and I have been told that he is hiding his name for the right reasons, and lives hang upon his continued secrecy," Dumbledore said firmly. "Or at least one life. An innocent life that the Wizarding world would not wish to lose … Though I do not know whose life this is."
"Told by whom, exactly? Nemo?"
"No, the Sorting Hat. I often ask it about the students, which should be taught in what manner, to try and dissuade them from turning to the dark. More often than not it tells me little, saying that the student must learn for his or her self what is needed," Dumbledore replied. "But the Sorting Hat seemed very … anxious … that I accept this boy Nemo, and teach him, and not inquire as to who he really is."
McGonagall nodded her head. She knew very well that the Sorting Hat would not lie, and if it didn't want to tell the truth, it would simply refuse to speak. If the Sorting Hat said the boy should be trusted, then he should be.
"I will do my best to dissuade anyone from asking too closely about the boys business," she assured Dumbledore.
"Minerva? Try and get the boy to make friends, if you can," Dumbledore said, just as she was about to leave. "The Hat seems to think that it's important that he makes friends."
"I'll do my best, Headmaster," she had said, and then left.
Well, she'd tried, and she would continue to try. If Dumbledore and the Sorting Hat thought that Nemo Protectium needed friends, then she would do her best to help him make some.
And she completely agreed with the Headmaster anyway, all children needed friends, and lonely mores than anyone else.
She would keep trying.
***
There, that will do for this chapter, I think! No cliffie, but oh well! Next chapter: Flying! And more Meetings with Malfoy also … hehehe, looking forward to it!
Apologies for late update! Have been attempting to figure out glitches in the computer, and it hasn't been working so well. Apologies also for not sending out notices that I've updated *sighs* emails are one of the glitches I've been trying to figure out …
Also, thanks to everyone who noticed the Mr. Potter error in chapter four, it has been corrected! If you notice any others, please, let me know.
Thanks:
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Wow! Lots of reviews – then again, I did put up two chapters last time! Please everyone review again!
~WolfMoon~