Harry carefully measured out the Pecha Berries into the pestle that had already been used to calibrate his scale. A common beginner's mistake when making potions was to read "Grind four Pecha Berries" and assume that was all that needed to be done. Plop to berries into a pestle, take a hand grinder and mush them together, continue on. And that might work for a basic Berry Juice that a first year would create. But Harry wasn't a firstie anymore; no, he was in his Fifth Year, preparing to take his G.R.I.M.E.R. tests at the end of the school year, and working on far more complex potions than simple Berry Juice.

No, when it said 'Grind four Pecha Berries' one had to go through the entire process. First inspecting the berries to make sure they were at the correct ripeness without any bruising or discoloration. The former ensured that they were highly effective; unrippened Pecha Berries would have a horrible taste that would cause Pokemon to instantly reject taking the medicine while overrippened ones could actually cause the reverse, making Pokemon become addicted to the potion, begging for it even when they didn't need it. The latter, the lack bruising or discoloration, made sure that the fruit hadn't been damaged as that could ruin the strength of the potion and result in one needing to take far more than normal. They needed to be the correct color and of the best quality to get the most out of the potion.

After that Harry then needed to consult with Arlo's Guide of Berries (not The Big Berry Book as, according to Snape, that was written by a dunderhead from Hoenn who had only gotten famous because he knew someone in the Hoeen government) to determine the average weight of a Pecha Berry and adjust accordingly. Four Berries meant four AVERAGE size berries… getting dwarf ones would cause the potion to be worthless while too large would affect the rest of the potion and its other effects, creating something with an overpowering taste that a Pokemon would either be loathed to eat or find the greatest thing ever, depending on their taste.

It was all a balancing acting, each step carefully observed with the potion creator taking the time to get every step right. It showed they respected the craft and understood its importance. It was something that couldn't be rushed, even if one had made the potion a thousand times. The brewer had to show reverence for the process.

Squeezing the Pecha Berry gently between his fingers Harry placed the berry into the dish before examining the next one, deciding that it had too many spots for his liking and setting it aside in the reject pile. Just because it couldn't be used in this potion didn't mean it didn't have other uses, most likely ending up blended into a berry juice that could be watered down to create an intravenous for sick humans or Pokemon. Grabbing another one he was far more satisfied with it and placing it in the pestle showed it was the correct size too.

All around him the rest of the class was working on their potions though many weren't on the same one Harry was attempting to make. In 5th year Snape had revealed that not only would they be focused on making far more advanced potions than they had their first 4 years of schooling but the time limits he had set up (the common refrain of 'Here is the instructions, you have an hour, go') were done. As he had put it, "Before you dunderheads were working on potions that a master could make in mere moments and even your sad, fumbling hands could attempt in an hour. That is no longer the case. If you wish to rush through your assignments now then I do not care, nor will I care about what your final grade might be or my refusal to allow you into my Advanced Potions class. But if you truly wish to prove yourself I will allow you a small kindness in being able to fail at your own pace."

Harry fought the urge the smile at that. Leave it to Snape to insult even as he was giving them a boon. And it was a boon, despite what others might think. Being able to work at his own pace meant Harry didn't need to rush on parts of potion prep that he was weak in nor did he have to hobble himself so that he remained with the rest of the class. Crabbe and Goyle were still working on their third potion of the year while Harry was on his ninth and Hermione was on her fifteenth. While it was expected that one manage to complete at least twelve potions in order to come even close to passing moving beyond that number merely allowed one a better shot at getting into Snape's Advance Potion Class. One could only get into that class through Snape's approval and Harry wasn't about to think that just because of their connection the prickly potions professor would give him a free pass if he slacked off. In fact Harry was willing to bet that he'd need to work harder than most for that exact reason.

Satisfied with the weight of his ingredients Harry began to grind the berries, being careful to go slowly at first so he didn't squirt juice on his face or clothing. He'd have preferred to have chopped the berries first but the directions said not to do so and he'd learned the hard way to stick with what the book said and not try and take shortcuts (well, unless Snape wrote something on the blackboard that went against what the book said, then he was always to listen to Snape). Sometimes if a berry wasn't prepared a certain way it would spoil quicker or would be less effective. Better to do things right than to believe that he knew better than countless potion masters that had come before him.

"Mr. Potter," Snape said, coming up and looking at what Harry was working on. "I know that you Gryffindors love to make things harder on yourselves through your laziness and stupidity but are you attempting to paralyze your Pokemon even as you remove the poisoning from their bodies?" Harry knew better than to speak and instead turned to stare at the professor, knowing the man would reveal what mistake he had made if he merely waited. Speaking out only angered Snape and would lead him to feel disrespected and having no urge to actually assist. And throw insults around. Respectful silence was the key. "Tell me… what color is a Pecha berry?"

"Pink moving into purple, sir," Harry said before he looked down and saw, much to his surprise, that the berry slurry he'd been working on had begun to turn into a disgusting brown color. He instantly knew that something was wrong; the Pecha Berry's juice and pulp should have remained a light purple until he mixed in Leppa Berries which would have turned it into a more maroon color. That would then be lightened with the other additives that would turn the juices into a poison cure. He looked to the small bin of berries but there was nothing to show that they were bad and had the insides begun to rot he'd have both smelled it and seen it when he began to grind the fruit up.

He looked to Snape who rolled his eyes. "Idiot. The berries are fine it is the mortar and pestle that are the problem. Clearly someone prepared something else, most likely a potion using Effect Spores, and you, like all hasty and ignorant Gryffindors who have their empty skulls in the clouds rather than on the task ahead, didn't bother to inspect your tools and instead just began with your potion." He sniffed. "10 points from Gryffindor for wasting time."

Harry, back when he had first begun taking Snape's class, would have gotten offended by the mocking, the name-calling, and the points being deducted for a simple mistake. Even more so given the fact that Snape himself provided the mortars and pestles (Harry had his own personal set that Snape had given him for Solstice last year that met his standards but those were for his own use and not for classwork as, in Snape's own words, he "didn't trust the mush-brained dolts he called classmates not to damage them or pilfer them to sell for booze money") and thus the only one that could have contaminated the tools was the potion master himself. He'd set the entire situation up and in the past Harry would have raged at that. Most likely made a scene, arguing back and earned himself a detention.

But age and wisdom saw him merely nod in acceptance. "Then I will start over. May I clean my tools, Prof. Snape?"

"May? No. Will? Yes." Snape turned, his black labcoat billowing as he began to walk up and down the rows of tables, Harry standing up as Snape began to question Theo Nott about the same thing. Harry saw other students who'd been paying attention quietly begin inspecting their potions to determine if they had been tricked while some, like Neville who lived with another Potion master… or mistress… in the form of his Gran and thus had it drilled into him to be careful of such things, continued on though the smug little smiles they were wearing weren't hard to miss.

Harry had come to understand that Snape didn't do things like that for merely malicious joy; it was just a bonus, as Sirius would snark. No, he did things like that to prove a point and solidify it far better than merely telling the students the dangers of not cleaning their equipment ever would. Snape wasn't the type of teacher to coddle his students, walking them step by step through the process. No, he believed that the students should study before class, learn how to create the potion, and then demonstrate to him that they understood what needed to be done. Those that didn't got his biting retorts to remind them to do better the next time. It wasn't Harry's preferred way to learn and he certainly wouldn't teach the members of his Battle Club that way, but he understood the man's methods and respected them.

'Of course today might be a touch different,' Harry thought to himself as he carefully scraped the remains of his failed potion into the composing receptacle; even though he couldn't use it for a potion that didn't mean the berry juice couldn't find another use. Using the scrub brush and the special organic soap he carefully cleaned the tools before toweling both off and returning to his seat without a word, starting the potion all over again.

It took some solid focus but Harry was able to get the potion done before class finished up, which he was glad for as putting anything in stasis always was a gamble. Sometimes a half-completed potion came out just fine… other times it was just sludge and all the prep work was wasted. Scientists knew how to store completed potions and the like in PCs but for some reason a potion that hadn't been completed always ended up a roll of the dice on how it would be returned. There was a reason why Potion Masters didn't work on anything unless they knew they had full days worth of time to complete the brewing process.

So instead of beginning on the next Potion Harry spent the time making sure his work area was cleaned up, something that usually got approval from Snape; the man had complained both in class and out that half of his down time was spent cleaning up for 'messy brats who treat precision instruments like they do their filth-coated bodies'. As the little tool-test had shown clean work areas and tools were highly important as even a small amount of a contaminant could ruin a potion.

"Mr. Potter," Snape said as the bell rang and the students began to gather their things, "I would like you to stay after class."

Harry quietly nodded to his friends, turning and holding three fingers behind his back. They'd worked out early in the current school year codes to let each other know if they needed the rest of the group to stick around or if they were fine with them continuing on to their next destination. With Snape now Harry knew things would be fine so there was no reason for Ron, Hermione, and Neville to hover out in the hall. He could tell Ron had no problem with that, quickly heading out, but Neville and Hermione lingered before finally following the rest of the class out the door.

"You have a lunch and then a free period, do you not?" Snape asked once the last student had left.

"Yes sir," Harry stated.

"If you would assist me in cleaning the classroom and vile-spewing housemates' work areas I would be willing to send Bach out to get something a bit more… palatable… than the usual Hogwarts gruel."

Harry nodded at that, knowing that he really didn't have a choice in the matter. With Snape even a favor was actually a command; at least in this case he was bribing Harry with lunch.

'A very good lunch,' Harry thought to himself as he grabbed a scraper and a fine-bristle brush and began to work on one of the tables where the goopy pulp of Oran berries had hardened onto the surface. While Snape could go for days on end not eating when he was working on a project when he did eat he treated his meals like he did his potions: only the best. He paid an arm and a leg to get it delivered to Hogwarts but it was well worth it and Harry knew that soon enough he would be eating like a king.

"We haven't discussed your holiday, Harry," Snape said, the use of his first name showing that the professor was talking to him not as his teacher but as his uncle. "I assume it went well."

"Well enough, sir," Harry said respectfully. "I'm sorry you couldn't come and visit this year."

Snape, who'd gone to the cabinets to check to make sure that everything had been put back in its proper place, stated, "I desired too but my father became stuck in Sinnoh thanks to that winter storm and I did not want to leave him alone."

Harry nodded. While he had yet to meet the old man he knew that Tobias Snape still worked as a sailor and he'd never have used a teleporter to get back home if it meant leaving his boat behind. Not because he was worried about his boat (though he was) but because he didn't trust teleporters in any way, shape, or form. Thus Harry didn't blame his uncle for choosing to spend the Solstice with his father.

"And I suppose that had nothing to do with you wishing to avoid seeing Sirius in full holiday-spirit-mode?" he asked.

"…he may have sent me photos of the hats he wished all of us to wear," Snape stated dryly and Harry smiled at that before remembering the long green hat with bells and lights he'd been forced to wear by Sirius. Despite all the gifts he'd gotten the embarrassment of that hat had made the morning quite unhappy… even with Remus wearing one designed to look like a Solstice Tree and Sirius one looking like a snowman. "That was the same reason why I chose not to attend his Solstice Party."

"You'd have been rather surprised," Harry said as he continued to attack the stubborn dried globs of berry gunk. "Sirius actually managed to have a dignified party."

"I don't think the words 'Dignified' and 'Black' belong together."

"Still, he managed it. Suppressed every urge to pull pranks and make it into a farce. He instead put on a rather adult party."

"Hmmm," Snape said, clearly not convinced. "Perhaps he was focused on other things." He fell silent and Harry continued on with his work, assuming that was the end of their conversation, only for Snape to suddenly speak up once more. "I did hear a bit about the party… and those that attended. You have expanded your circle of friends, from what I hear."

"I've been doing that for a while with the Battle Club. You always complained that I spent too much time with block-headed Gryffindors."

"I know what I said," Snape said simply. "Still, I find you actually doing so rather odd. You are very much like your mother and your father when it comes to your circle of friends. Myself as well."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked. While Remus and Sirius did their best to tell him all about his parents Harry was forever starving for information and whatever he could get was welcome. Especially because Sirius and Remus colored everything with their own childhood stigmas and joys. In order to see his parents not as legendary figures but as people he needed to hear from other people about them.

Snape didn't speak for a moment, doing a final check on the cabinet before he shut it and went to retrieve a long thin wire brush. "All of us were rather... clannish... when it came to our circles of friends. Your father had his Marauders: Black, Lupin, and Pettigrew." Each name was said in descending order of bitter annoyance, with Sirius getting the most scorn and Peter (most likely due to his death trying to avenger Harry's parents) the most casual. "There were a few others, like Frank Longbottom though that was mostly because he was a few years above us and thus someone James could turn to for answers, but for the most part the Marauders stuck to their own; the alliance formed between myself and Lily with them was like an earthquake through Hogwarts Society."

"And you and my mum? You guys didn't have a lot of friends?"

"We clung to each other, mostly," Snape said as he began to work on cleaning the Bunsen burners; buildup could mess with the flames and for certain potions heat was the most important and violate factor. "Your friend Mr. Longbottom's mother was probably her closest friend but she and I... well, her escape from her family and my role in it saw the two of us connected in ways that made the bond hard to break... or join in on." Snape inspected the burner he'd been working on before going after another spot on it. "You have surprised us all though. First with the Champions."

Harry smiled at that. The Grand Trainer Tournament had been something of a wild ride but it's greatest benefit was the friendships he'd made with his fellow champions. Even removing Jasmine and Cedric from the equation (due to them being Harry's girlfriend and Hermione's boyfriend, respectfully) the bonds he'd forged with them were startling strong considering the short amount of time they'd spent together. Gary, Wally, Viktor, Iris, Fleur… if his friends, his Pride, were the brothers and sisters he'd never had then the Champions were his beloved cousins. Ones he could rely on and who knew that they could always rely upon him. Thick and thin, no matter what. They'd all spent over an hour on Solstice communicating via holocasters while unwrapping the presents they'd sent to each other.

"But now with your Battle Club… I don't think any of us expected you to form that."

"Had to do something to help out thanks to… you know." He didn't say Umbridge's name… his time plotting out the heist, along with Jasmine and Ginny showing him just how much they could monitor the unknowing world, had given him a healthy dose of paranoia. He didn't feel like speaking out of turn when no one knew if the walls were listening.

"Yes… and the fact that it has allowed you to break away from the impression that you care only about Gryffindors was purely coincidental," Snape said with all the dryness of a desert. "Just as I am sure that the fact that you invited a select few members to Black's party was another coincidence."

"Not at all. Just people that I've become closest to," Harry said.

Snape hummed at that. "Yes. And it just so happens that the ones you selected all have interesting connections in the outside world. Miss Greengrass' family and their ability to straddle the line between the dark families and the light?"

"I don't judge people on the actions of their guardians or parents. If I did then people would be in their right to judge me for what Sirius does… and we both know that wouldn't end well."

Snape didn't even answer that. "And Mr. Finch-Fletchey? Interesting how his mother did design work for the Knights Bus and one of their drivers was arrested for criminal acts. One you in fact brought to our attention thanks to your mysterious source."

Harry kept his face completely neutral. He'd known that one member of the family would come at him to try and wring a confession out of him for what had happened the Stan. He'd thought it might be Jonas or Remus, possibly Tonks playing on the, "I'm just your cool older cousin, you can tell me the real story". He hadn't expected Snape to be brought in but now that it had happened he wasn't surprised. The man was cunning and ruthless and wouldn't be deterred by any attempts to change the subject like the others might have been. If it had been Jack he'd have had a chance to stall and deflect. With Snape? All he could do was bluff.

"If you search for connections long enough you'll find them. Doesn't mean that means anything."

"Perhaps on their own," Snape argued. "But when you add in other facts?"

"Such as?"

"Miss Bones attended and it was her aunt who personally saw to Mr. Shunpike's capture. She refuses to reveal her source."

"She is the head of the Aurors. Makes sense she'd be involved. And Sirius invited her to attend, not me."

"Along with Miss Patil." Snape picked up another Bunsen burner and began to clean it. "One hears many odd things when they roam the halls of Hogwarts, especially when the little dunderheads believe they are alone. Seems Parvati Patil was rather upset to be grounded because of her actions at the party."

"Well, she did wander off to take a phone call from Lavender."

"And yet Miss Brown had no knowledge of said call. And Miss Patil's frustrations were not born out of being caught but rather seemed to be born out of the fact that she had been unfairly punished. Her sister's name was also brought up… and I know that you have been closer to Padma Patil than her sister. Parvati has left your Battle Club but Padma remains. Yet you were seen in the former's company often during the party." Snape pursed his lips. "And from what I have heard your girlfriend Miss Kenway is not one to share."

"She isn't."

"Hmmm. I suppose we are done here. Perhaps for my 6th Years I should leave the tables dirty so they can see how improperly cared for work stations can affect the crafting process. Clean yourself up Harry and meet me in my quarters. I will order for us."

"Yes sir."

"And you will ensure-"

"I'll use the proper soaps to ensure I don't poison myself," Harry said quickly.

Snape nodded and Harry had just reached the door when Snape cleared his throat. "A word of wisdom, Mr. Potter… the innocent tend to be startled and direct when confront. The guilty find excuses rather than attacking the issue at hand."

Harry turned and smiled slightly. "I'll remember that the next time I'm guilty of something." He turned and went to wash up, knowing that if he stayed any longer it would only lead to digging on Snape's part. He wouldn't pry by the time he returned, as his point had been made, but sticking around would have been inviting him to press harder.

'He knows,' Harry thought to himself as he made his way to the washroom and began to scrub his hands, being especially careful to get under his nails. He also began to lather up his arms, knowing that sometimes berry juice would run down his wrists and onto his forearms and if he didn't take care of things now it could lead to, at best, staining, and at worst… well, he didn't want to think about that. 'But he can't actually prove anything. He knows that I had something to do with Stan's arrest but he can't actually prove it. And while some might like to move on that information Remus will demand all the facts and to have the entire chain of events locked down before he confronts me.' He rinsed his hands and switching to the more gentle soap, sudsing up his hands again. 'And he wants me to know that he knows. But why? Does he agree with what we are doing? Want me to stop before I make things harder on the Pack? Just to show how smart he is?' Harry cared for his uncle but sometimes the man still drove him just as mad as he had back when he was merely the creepy bat that lived in the dungeons.

Harry had just begun to leave the bathroom when his Dex gave a small chime. Pulling it out his eyes widened as he saw that he had another message from his mysterious informant.

And his heart dropped when he read just what the man was passing along.

"You did well Harry and I am thankful you were able to stop Stan Shunpike. But I am afraid all the gratitude I wish to send your way must wait for another day. For you see I have learned of another plot, one created by Voldemort and allowed by the Ministry. Authorized by it in fact. To weaken you and to give them an opening to solidify their hold of Avalon.

"Arthur Weasley has been marked for death by Team Nocturne."

~MC~MC~MC~

Author's Notes: So Snape's class is a bit different when Harry has better knowledge of who the man is and said man doesn't have the death of his only love on his mind and a constant reminder that he lost her to his hated rival staring at him. The former comes from a far better home life and with more adults that care for him. Remus especially but also the Pack. Teaching him what he needs to learn. The latter being that Harry doesn't represent what he does in canon to Snape… here he is the last piece of Snape's beloved sister and he wants Harry to be the best he can absolutely be.

Much of the class is inspired by two different stories. The first, Harry Crow, and how Harry's goblin Potions' professor demands prep work before class. The second, Harry Is A Dragon, And That's Okay, with how Harry sees Snape's retorts as helpful.