2 September 1952, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
"Good morning class, I am your new Potions Professor. You will know my name from the introduction Professor Dumbledore so kindly gave me at the start of term feast, but I have written my name on the board for any of you who have…mislaid that memory."
A few people giggled, and she continued.
"I, like you, have entered the school this year, but I, unlike you, have already graduated. Therefore, I hope you will trust in my ability to teach you what you need to know and get you through your exams which, ultimately, seems to most people to be the ultimate goal of education. However, I disagree. I believe that school should be about learning to live life to the full, no learning how to waste your time."
She looked around at the eager first-years sitting raptly behind their desks and smiled.
"But I won't bore you with that now. This lesson I will show you some potions that you will encounter during your years here at Hogwarts. I hope you will see from this the strange way in which emotion, reaction, consequence, and ultimately life can be brewed with the simplest of ingredients. This, to me, is what makes the art and science of potion making so truly fascinating, and I hope that some of you will share my enthusiasm for the subject."
She smiled at the class, hoping that she really could teach them to appreciate her subject the way a good teacher should.
"And for those of you who won't find potions a favourite subject, I hope I can at least engage your attention pleasantly for the years I will share with you here."
To her surprise and relief, the class were smiling back at her. It seemed that the introduction, at least, to her first lesson had been a success.
"Now, on to some potions."
She turned to the front row of desks which were entirely taken up with cauldrons, simmering or bubbling, emitting steam and smoke in all colours of the rainbow and sending an odd collection of aromas wafting around the classroom.
"I would like you each, in turn, to come to the front and collect a sample of this potion. You will take this back to your desk, please, and I would like you to write a few notes – not many mind you, this is supposed to be a fun lesson, not an essay-writing class – about this potion. For instance: the way it looks, the way it smells, what it is doing. What does it make you feel?"
"Please Miss" a boy said from the second row.
"Professor. Yes?"
"Sorry Professor, but what do you mean by 'how it makes us feel'?"
She smiled, looking straight at the boy. He was small, with dark hair and eyes, and a gaunt, sallow complexion.
"Ah, potions are complex and mysterious things. Through their mere sight or vapour they can have effects on the human mind and body, and they can affect each individual in a different way. I would like to take this opportunity both to teach and to learn about these potions, as there are always new discoveries one can make."
The boy nodded.
"Right, Mr –"
"Dalton, Professor."
"Thank you, Mr Dalton. For that contribution, take five points to Slytherin and you can be the first to collect your sample."
The boy grinned, suddenly looking much healthier, and stood. After he had collected his sample, she called the rest of the class one by one to come and collect their potion. When they were done, she took a seat behind her desk and surveyed the class over steepled fingers. They all worked away, chatting among themselves and scribbling enthusiastically. It made her so happy to see that she could bring something she loved so much to these children and have them enjoy it as much as she had at their age. As their scribbling started to slow and they began to get restless, watching her, she spoke again.
"Would anybody like to tell me about this potion?" She asked, looking directly at her class.
A few hands went up, but many of the owners looked slightly nervous to contribute, so she picked one that seemed confident.
"Mr Moody?"
"Yes Professor. Well, its…it colour varies really. One minute it looks a kind of silvery grey, and the next minute it's some strange kaleidoscope of all kind of colours. Makes you think you're seeing things."
"Exactly right, Mr Moody. Take five points. Can anyone tell me anything else?"
A few more people raised their hands this time, evidently encouraged by Moody's contribution.
"Miss –"
"Shacklebolt, Professor."
"Right. What did you notice, Miss Shacklebolt?"
"I – I'm not sure what it smells like. It smells like libraries and horses and wooden furniture, but at the same time it smells like animals and cooking and dirty laundry and sweat and…pig muck"
Several students laughed at this last comment, but she merely nodded.
"Very observant. Yes, it will give off two sets of aromas like Miss Shacklebolt kindly described. Can anyone tell me what two things these smells depict?"
Another Gryffindor raised his hand, and she nodded at him.
"They're opposites."
She heard a laugh and saw a Slytherin girl sniggering.
"Don't be stupid! How are horses and animals opposite?"
Other Slytherins began to snigger along with the girl, but at a look from their teacher they quietened. She noticed that Dalton, the gaunt dark boy, hadn't been laughing with them. Instead, he had been looking thoughtful and mouthing silently, evidently trying to work something out in his head.
"What is your name, girl?"
The girl stared at her defiantly, and said "Black".
"Well, Miss Black" her voice was deathly quiet, and a few people looked apprehensive. "I have only two things to say to you. Firstly, you do not speak out of turn in my class. Secondly, if I ever hear anyone in this classroom disregard the opinion of another student in that disgusting manner in this classroom again, they will leave and not come back. Is that clear?"
The Black girl nodded reluctantly looking, she noticed, much less cocky and confident than she had a few moments ago. The Gryffindor boy looked at her gratefully, and she spoke to him again.
"I'm sorry, I don't know your name."
"I'm Joseph Wainwright, Professor."
"Thank you, Mr Wainwright, you've made an excellent point. Are you able to tell me why you thought of opposites?"
"N-no, I don't know. I mean, it was more of a feeling than anything."
Joseph looked embarrassed, but she smiled encouragingly.
"Sometimes potions is more about a vague hunch than definite clues. If you had to guess what a potion was without any specialist equipment or testing it, a gut feeling can tell you a great deal."
She had noticed, as she spoke, that a hand was rising slowly and tentatively in the air. When she had finished, she smiled at the owner.
"Mr Dalton again. What are you thinking?"
"I think I know what Wainwright means, Professor."
"Go on, then. Enlighten us."
She was intrigued to see if this boy was as naturally talented as she was beginning to suspect. If he really could work out the essence of this potion, she wasn't wrong.
"It's well, I'm guessing this is an old potion, right?"
"Yes, it dates back hundreds of years."
The class looked puzzled, but she knew what he was getting at.
"Well in that case, the first set of smells is all about being poor. It's got farming smells like animals and sweat and manure. But the second set is luxurious, it's about manor houses and knowledge. Does that mean this potion turns you from one into the other? Does it make you rich?"
"Well now, that's an interesting question. If one only considered the aroma the potion gives off, that would be a reasonable assumption to make, but you are forgetting some of the other factors."
Dalton looked crestfallen, and she tried not to laugh. She remembered being like that herself, fifteen years ago.
"Don't worry, you've done a lot better than I expected a first year class to do." She addressed her next remark to the whole class. "There is clearly a lot of talent here. I will enlighten you as to the properties and uses of this potion, as it is unfair for me to expect you to work it out."
The class was silent, looking at her expectantly.
"This potion is the Elixir Foupaysan. It is a French name. You remember how Mr Moody told us the potion made you think you were seeing things?"
They nodded.
"Well, this is the key. This potion was used hundreds of years ago to transform any person into a village idiot." She laughed. "This probably seems very pointless," The class nodded. "but let me explain its uses to you. It was sold to muggle Lords and Ladies by magical traders. In those days, many muggles believed in witchery and were willing to buy into it, though not letting on to their fellow muggles of course. This potion could be used quite effectively as a disguise or excuse. For instance, if a Lord wanted to survey his subjects it was easiest to do so by intermingling with them, and no one pays attention to a madman. It could also be used if you got into trouble. An example, hmm…let's say you get caught stealing another man's horse. Take a swig of this potion and you will immediately begin to hallucinate, meaning that you can tell your captors that someone bewitched you, placing the blame, if necessary, on an innocent villager."
Black had raised her hand again.
"Are you being serious, Professor?"
"Perfectly."
"Then why are you teaching us about this potion? No one would use it now. Plus, selling magic to muggles is illegal."
She sat back, looking smug.
"Both those points are correct, Miss Black, but you seem to have missed the entire purpose of the exercise. I am demonstrating to you the ways in which the senses can be used to determine the properties of a potion and, possibly, its safety."
Dalton raised his hand again.
"Yes?"
"Well, can't a potion's appearance be changed by magic?"
She sighed.
"You're far ahead of me, I'm afraid. Sadly yes, a potion's appearance and aroma can be altered by spells, and there is no way to avoid this. However, I will try to teach you all I can as a potion would only normally be changed in a sinister situation, and in one of these I'm sure there will be other magic you can learn and employ."
Dalton smiled at her, and she knew she had found her first protégé. She continued through the rest of the potions in the same manner as the first until the double period had ended. She dismissed the class, walking to the board and removing the names of the spells she had written upon it, leaving only her name which would remain for the reference of her next class:
Professor Snape
What do you think? This may get confusing. Any questions, review and ask me. Other than that, please let me know what you think by reviewing!
Becca