Title: One Stupid Person

Author: quixotic-hope (harrysev)

Beta: Amanda Saitou

Pairing: Harry/Severus

Rating: R

Genres: Romance, Angst, Fluff, First time

Warnings: slight-AU (ignoring HBP)

Spoilers: 1-5

Summary: Having lost his value as a spy for the light, Severus must now take a Death Eater-aging potion and befriend the dratted Boy-Who-Lived. But what happens when he starts falling in love?

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co. belong to the wonderfully talented JK Rowling. I mean no harm by using her characters in this story. I am making no money whatsoever; I merely hope to entertain people.

Chapter 4: Changing Perceptions

Severus scowled. Erica Ingram had been hired to take his place teaching Potions, and she had absolutely no talent whatsoever. She gave out wrong information, was unable to answer a single question, and always appeared to be nervous. Severus took great pleasure, therefore, in asking her difficult questions that he knew she couldn't answer. Making her squirm was his only pleasure in life now. She hated him, of that he was sure, but he did not care. Albus should have thought about what he was doing before he hired this woman.

"The potion you all will be making is on page two-fifty. Everyone divide into pairs and get to work," Ingram told them. Then she sat down at her desk (my desk, thought Severus savagely) and began to read Witch Weekly.

"Would you like to be my partner?"

Severus tore his glare away from Ingram and found himself staring into emerald green eyes. Blinking, he realized he hadn't been listening to anything Potter had just said.

"Excuse me?"

"I asked if you wanted to be my partner," asked Potter, looking slightly nervous.

Severus saw that everyone else had already divided into pairs except for himself, Potter, Longbottom, and Finnegan. Deciding to go with the lesser evil, Severus nodded to Potter.

"Okay, do you want me to go get the ingredients?"

"If that would make you feel useful," conceded Severus, turning to the assigned page and looking down at the potion they were supposed to be making: a healing potion. Severus sighed. He had been able to successfully brew a healing potion since he was eight.

He watched as Potter joined his fellow classmates at the storage cupboard. He decided that this would be a good time to see how Potter brewed a potion when his evil professor was not standing over him. The boy came back with an armful of supplies and gently laid them out of the workbench.

"Alright, what's first?" Harry asked, looking down at the book. Severus said nothing. Harry looked up. Severus was standing exactly how he had been when Harry left. The book was open before him, but he had made no effort to read what they should do.

"Are you going to help?" asked Harry. "I'm really not very good at potions, so if you want a passing grade I would suggest you help."

Famous Potter admitting he wasn't good at something? Probably wants me to do everything, reasoned Severus.

"I don't care very much for grades," said Severus evenly. He watched Harry give him a calculating look before shaking his head and returning to the potion.

"All right, then." Harry read the first few directions, picked up his knife, and began chopping the dandelion roots. Severus cringed.

"What are you doing?"

Harry looked up at him in surprise. "Slicing the roots."

"That's not slicing! That's chopping!"

"There's a difference?" asked Harry, surprised.

"Of course there's a difference!" snapped Severus. "No wonder you're abysmal at potions. You don't even know about the different cutting techniques!"

Harry flinched at the harsh tone of the other boy. Alan reminded him of Snape when he yelled. Shaking his head, Harry looked Alan trying to think of something to say.

"I didn't realize it mattered," he said. "I'm used to cooking at my aunt and uncle's. There, it doesn't matter how you cut things, just as long as it all ends up in the same bowl."

"Well, this is not a kitchen," growled Severus, trying to calm down and speak to Potter as a student as opposed to a teacher. "With Potions, the technique matters very much."

"So, how do you slice roots, then?" asked Harry. Severus was startled to hear sincerity in the boy's voice. He honestly wanted to learn something about Potions.

Severus picked up his own knife and a couple of new roots. He gave one to Harry and kept one for himself.

"Slicing roots takes far more patience than chopping them. You want to get them as thin as you can without their ripping." Severus slowly sliced the root. He could, of course, have sliced it in much less time, but he wanted to make sure that Harry saw what he was doing. "See? You try."

Harry picked up his knife and slowly mimicked the other's movements. His root, though not perfect, was much thinner than it had been a moment ago.

"That's better," said Severus, the encouragement leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. "Try slicing them a little thinner."

Harry did what Alan suggested and soon found that slicing roots wasn't nearly as hard as he had thought. He saw Alan nod in approval and felt proud of himself. He sliced the appropriate amount of roots, then turned to the next direction: dice a pound of sopophorous beans.

"I'm going to take a wild guess and assume that dicing and chopping are two completely different things as well," said Harry, turning once again to Alan. He saw Alan's mouth twitch a little as if he was trying not to laugh, and Harry felt elated.

"In order to dice these beans correctly, you should…"

Severus spent the rest of class teaching Potter to make the potion. He was surprised to find that Potter was actually a fast learner, once you took the time to explain things to him. By the time class was over their potion looked exactly like it was supposed to look. Severus hadn't added one thing.

"Wow, I think that's the first potion I've ever turned in that looks the way it's supposed to," Harry smiled as he and Alan left the classroom. His smile dimmed a little. "Too bad Snape's not here to see it," he added quietly to himself.

xxx

Later that evening found Harry and Alan in the common room. Ron and Hermione had wandered off somewhere, leaving the other two alone to work on their homework. Harry was about to start working on his Transfiguration essay when Dennis Creevey walked up to him. Harry sighed quietly.

"Dennis," said Harry politely. "What can I do for you?"

"Could you help me with this spell?" the younger boy asked.

"What spell?" asked Harry, pushing aside his papers. Alan looked up from his own work, his eyes focused on Harry.

"Accio," answered Dennis, looking down at his feet. "I know that you used that spell in the Triwizard Tournament, so I thought maybe you could help me with it."

"Sure," agreed Harry, standing up and pulling out his wand. "What are you having trouble with?"

"I just can't seem to do it," said Dennis exasperatedly. "I keep saying the words, and nothing happens."

"What are you thinking about when you say it?"

"Um...well—"

"You're thinking about how much you really want to get this spell right, aren't you?" smiled Harry. He laughed when Dennis nodded.

"Right, well that's the first thing that you need to change. I learned this the hard way. You have to focus solely on whatever object it is that you want to summon. Don't think about anything else but that object. Alright?"

"Okay," agreed Dennis. He paused for a moment. "What should I try to call?"

"You should call..." Harry thought a moment. His eyes fell on his Transfiguration book. "Try summoning this book from my hand," he said, grabbing the book off the table.

"Alright...Accio!"

Nothing happened. Dennis slumped his shoulders in defeat.

"Don't look so depressed!" encouraged Harry. "I didn't get it at first, either. Flitwick had to give me extra homework, actually, before I could finally get it right."

Severus stared in surprise as Potter worked with Creevey for another hour. The boy was actually admitting that he had needed help? That was twice in one day he had admitted to not being perfect at something. What was the world coming to? He had had the perfect opportunity to rub his superiority in this boy's face, and yet Potter had opted to help him. That was not something James Potter would have done. It was more something that Lily would have done, realized Severus.

Maybe, just maybe, there was more to Potter than he thought.