Chapter 2: Potions and Professor Snape

Chapter 2

Potions and Professor Snape

The next morning Sage woke with his head on the potions book. Groggy, he raised his head and looked around. Quiet. He looked at his watch: 8:35. Shit, I have some class at 9:30. Gods, I fell asleep and I didn't finish the potions work! I hope it's not potions at 9:30, maybe I'll have time to finish it. He jumped up and ran up the stairs to his room. Everyone was already at breakfast. He changed into his Gryffindor robes, grabbed his wand and put it in his pocket, brushed his teeth, and ran back to grab his books.

The Great Hall was full of students eating breakfast and talking in low, muddled voices. He hurried down the Gryffindor table and sat down. There was no one very near to him so he took out his book and started writing frantically in his notebook. He raised his eyes, he felt something…he knew before even turning what it was…damn people looking over his shoulder. Glancing behind him, his eyes rested on a pair of eyes much like his own. Goody, cousin Draco, just what I want first thing in the morning. I'd rather have that Granger girl over me.

"G'morning Malfoy," he said looking back down, ignoring the vicious voice in his head that wanted to be uncivil.

"Cousin, what are you doing over here?" He asked loudly and with some measure of disgust, "What would my father say, a Malfoy not in Slytherin, but in Gryffindor. And your uncle?" The boy paused, tisking. "You should be in Slytherin. I was hoping you'd join me there. Fairly shocked when the hat stuck you in Gryffindor… Of all places for someone of your pureblooded heritage and your tradition." Malfoy raised his eyebrows as he spoke this last word very slowly.

"What can I do for you, cousin? I'm trying to finish some things before classes start, not to be rude," he sneered at the pale boy.

Malfoy took up an important air. "Well, Professor Snape wanted me to give this to you. I think he's a bit shocked that he's not your Head of House."

Sage snatched the letter from Malfoy to shut him up faster. Malfoy had always had something to say. He was glad to not have been raised with Draco. Uncle Lucius never wanted him around, one annoying child was enough. Sage had been grateful when his other uncle took him up, no matter how reluctantly. Lucius Malfoy was an acidic person. Any household was better than the Malfoy household. Sage looked back down to his book expecting Malfoy Jr. to go away now that he had delivered his little message.

"We have Potions together after lunch. Why don't you read your note. Probably has your schedule in it."

Scowling Sage popped open the familiar seal and started to read.

You will see me before our class this afternoon. I believe we have some things to discuss pertaining to where you were yesterday. I expect you at my office after your Transfiguration class. I would advise you not to be late.

-S. Snape

Sage looked at Malfoy, who surprisingly was not reading the letter over his shoulder. He knows, he thought, thinking about Professor Snape. Now I'm in for it.

Then he remembered that he didn't even know where Snape's office was, and the school was not the kind of place you could wander around until you found something. If he did that, he'd wander for years. Sage closed his eyes and groaned inwardly. He did not want to ask anything of Draco. It was a task for him to merely speak politely to him.

"Malfoy, I have to meet with Professor Snape before lunch. How do I get to his office?"

Draco smirked as only a Slytherin could, "I'll take you there, after your Transfiguration class. I'll come get you outside of McGonagall's room."

With that Draco sauntered off to the Slytherin table leaving Sage thinking that directions would have been better. He was not excited to spend more time around Malfoy.

The dungeons were quite dark and dank. Sage thought they were suited perfect to Professor Snape. He had walked with Draco in as near to silence as he could manage, answering the other boy with nods and shrugs and an annoyed yes or no every once and awhile. It seemed like Malfoy droned on forever about his father, and his father being powerful, and Professor Snape knowing all sorts of dark arts stuff. Sage, undoubtedly, knew more about Professor Snape's knowledge of that than any other student at Hogwarts. After all, you spend at least two hours a day for over six years with a man, and you tend to get a good idea of what power he is capable of. Snape just radiated strong magical power, just as Dumbledore had the first time Sage had met him, very strong.

"That's Professor Snape's office. Probably wants to tell you he's disappointed about you not being in Slytherin. I mean, we are all disappointed about that." Malfoy would have kept going but Sage cut him off.

"Thanks, I think I can open the door for myself."

Malfoy finally left. Sage stared at the door. He was anxious, yes, but this was a road he had travelled many times before. Snape just had an intimidating presense and was a rule-monger. He knocked on the door.

A gruff, "Come in," answered him.

As he closed the door behind him, he took a moment to survey the office. Bottles on shelves all over the place, filled with guts and dead animals. Sage couldn't help but find that slightly comical. After all, no one would want that all over their office for personal use or pleasure. It was something that would serve to intensify the intimidation factor. Just something that Professor Snape would do, and just something the students would be stupid enough to fall for. Sage had no doubt that it worked on them too.

Severus Snape was a smart man, a smart man who liked to get things his way, who wanted to be feared and respected and obeyed. His thoughts were jolted suddenly as Snape glanced up from his papers momentarily to put out a commanding, "Sit down." Sage obeyed. He was slightly immune to the intimidating bottles, but even after so many years, he had never become immune to the intimidating man that was Severus Snape.

"I'm warning you now boy, not to toy with me, is that clear?" Snape said standing up and stalking to the front of his desk.

"Yes sir." Sage shifted uncomfortably, waiting for the arsenal.

"What were you doing in muggle-London all weekend? Did you apparate and leave your brain behind!" Snape yelled down into his face.

"No sir," he answered quietly, glancing downward. Knowing that at this point in time it was appropriate to look down.

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Then you just decided not to listen. How many times have you been told not to go apparating around where ever you please? How many times have you been told not to leave the house?"

"Many times, sir," he replied deferentially.

"Do you realize that you could hurt people, muggles, without wanting to. You can barely control your magical powers. You could endanger our whole world. You just conveniently forget your situation whenever you fancy. You cannot go running around like some child and you will not." Snape bore down on him. Leaning into him and pointing into his face.

Sage shrunk down in the chair as far as he could. "I'm sorry, sir."

"Must I constantly remind you of the other dangers that surround you? The dark lord would relish in finding you wandering around or paralyzed from an attack. You may not think it possible as he is not resurrected, but for two years in a row he's managed to show his face in some way or another. I should think that the thought of that would be enough to stop your childish rule-breaking. You're worse than Potter and his stupid sidekick Weasley."

Sage squirmed more.

"Not to mention the fact that you had an attack in the middle of muggle-London and started convulsing in front of dozens of muggles. Then, you're late getting here, and I find you in a sorry condition from the attack. I'm surprised you were able to even apparate into Hogsmeade. Need I say that if you had come when you were told to, you would have had the attack here and I would have been able to help you."

"I didn't think anything would happen," he said.

"No, you just didn't think at all. This is not like you, Sage, I thought better of you. Have I taught you nothing?"

If it was possible, Sage would have simply disappeared. He did not like to see Snape so upset, especially since Snape never cooled off right away. He would be sour for weeks. Worse was that he did know better. Sometimes it just got so lonely by himself, so depressing, and his thoughts became so morbid. He could not help but try and run from them.

"I was the one asked to teach you, because I of all people would know exactly the defenses you would need to learn. I was chosen to keep you from the Dark Lord, to teach you so that you would be able to fight back if you had to, to keep you away from Malfoy who would love to just turn you straight over to Him. Is that what you want that you behave so carelessly? It is not just you I'm supposed to protect, it's the entire wizarding community, if you fell to Him we would all be in danger. The ministry would sooner kill you than let that happen. They already fear you, don't you understand?"

Professor Snape was spitting he was yelling so loudly. His robes were swooshing with every violent hand gesture. His face was contorting in frightening ways that Sage did not even know were possible. Finally, in a fury, Snape turned his back on him.

Sage swallowed, though his mouth was too dry. "Sir, I don't understand why they fear me. I've never hurt anyone, on purpose or on accident…aside from Uncle Lucius…but I rather recall he deserved it."

Snape whirled around, "Surely you are not that dim-witted! They fear you because of what you are. They fear you because you are the first of your kind to be born in three hundred years. They fear you because once you have had the proper teaching, you will be capable of things that the oldest wizards are not even capable of. By the time you are twenty-five, you will likely be able to surpass the capabilities of even Dumbledore. They fear you and yet they need you. They fear you because if you go bad it will be worse than the Dark Lord, they need you because you could be the end of Him. Your continued existence depends upon walking that line and you are intent on smudging it left and right and toeing right over it." Snape had turned so pale, his voice so low and growling, that Sage's knuckles had turned white as he gripped onto his chair for dear life.

"I just want to be normal," Sage answered in a whisper.

Snape grabbed him by the shoulder, "Well that's just not going to happen. Get used to it. You will always be tormented, you will likely always have these attacks, and you will suffer. That's the sickness that has always come down upon your kind. You will gain the control of your powers, and if it's possible, you may even be capable of ridding yourself of the torment of the attacks. I will not continue to teach you and help you if my words are falling on deaf ears. If you do not listen to me at all times, I will not waste my time. So, you have two choices. You can either listen to me, do as I ask, and study hard. Or, you can continue to be a child and wish away the very gifts that will save you from what you fear, and with it you will lose my tutoring and risk whatever action the ministry would take."

Snape looked at the tall, lean boy in front of him cowering in the chair. He had been a bit harsh, yes, but it was still so uncharacteristic of Sage to look so… vulnerable, so afraid, so young. Snape quickly stopped himself from those subtle feelings of guilt. What was he thinking, he would have been ten times more harsh to anyone but Sage. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but the boy was bright and…basically good. Snape was not used to admitting that he liked someone. Sage often got the better part of his temper despite this.

"Well?"

Sage looked sideways to avoid Snape's penetrating glare. His fists still clenched. He felt like a cornered animal of prey.

"It won't happen again, sir," he answered finally looking up at him.

"Is that good enough?" the professor asked expectantly.

Sage pursed his lips. "I'll focus more… and concentrate more on my work… and listen to those who are only concerned with my safety…sir"

"Hmm, well, start by getting me the rest of that work by tonight. We'll start going through some of the last two years of Potions you missed tonight after dinner. If it's not done by then, you can sit and do it until it is done."

How did Professor Snape just always know? How did he know that Sage did not have his work done? It was like the man had a private little eye into his life.

"I'll finish it after class before dinner."

Professor Snape looked hard at him, "Having it done before we meet will not make me satisfied if it is below your ability. Do not rush."

Sage nodded.

"Seeing as you tried to work your way through breakfast, I'd say lunch would be a good idea." The man motioned him out of his chair.

Sage stared at him, mouth slightly agape. He stood, "Y-you aren't going to…to punish me…for doing that?"

The potions master obligingly whapped him in the back of the head, "Don't be so stupid again."

The look on the young man's face was nothing short of what it would have been if Severus had suddenly sprouted another head. "But..."

"I expect I've given you plenty to think about. Further, I suspect that the pain of that vision you had in London was enough punishment for you, especially without the pain killers and such that I give you. I do not believe you will be doing something like that again."

Why did Professor Snape always have to be so right? His vision in London had been absolutely horrid. He had laid on the side of the alley writhing for over an hour after the real pain had stopped, unable to even breath without pain. Never had any of his visions been so bad. Actually, he still had the migraine. It had been the first time in a long while that someone had not been there with him during an attack. Sage looked back up and nodded.

"I was actually quite shocked when you managed to gain your composure before entering the great hall."

"Me too," Sage answered truthfully. "Nerves overwhelmed the pain, sir."

"Do you want to tell me what you saw?"

Sage shrugged as they walked out of Snape's office. The professor noticed the coldness simply close over the boy. It had been bad.

"I didn't understand it really. There was a snake and a rat, but not how you would normally, erm, think of a snake and a rat. The rat was not running for fear of being eaten. It came to the snake. The snake didn't stir. Then, there was something else, something different. The air smelt of fear. There was a forest and dead animals. I felt a keen sense of dread. Like something was closing in. The last thing I saw were these red things, eyes maybe. I dunno." He scratched his arm and continued walking silently.

Later that day Professor Snape flew into the Potions room for the first third year lesson of the year with all his usual frightening flare. The door slammed into the stone wall and he strode up to the front. He surveyed the class with his cold, black eyes, mentally seeing if anyone had thankfully not come back to school. No, Longbottom was still there. Another year of potions fiascos and hospital wing trips.

He crossed his arms over his chest imperially, "If you think that your time here today will be filled with my expectations because it is the first day, you are sadly wrong. As you are a third year class, I do hope that you know what I expect by now. If not, you are bound to lose more points than last year. You will find the instructions on the board."

Most of the students stared in disbelief at having to do work on the first day. Hermione was the first one to open her book, followed by Sage, and Malfoy.

"Well, get to work, NOW!" Snape bellowed to the students who were still gaping. Snape almost smiled when Weasley jumped a bit in his seat. After three years, Snape mused, his yell was still quite capable of making the red-haired boy startle.

"Miss Granger, you will move to the back to watch the new member of this class. I trust you can keep him from messing up too bad, because I am sure Mr. Longbottom will do that for us whether you watch him or not." Snape said this without even turning around. Had he turned around, he would have relished in Neville's flushed face.

Hermione moved back by Sage, offering him a weak smile. Sage just stared back at her, his eyes impassive.

I can't believe he thinks I'm that much of an idiot, Sage thought, last thing I need is more of her questions. She will spoil my work if anything.

He looked at the pages in the book and finished reading the description of the potion they were making. He eyed the instructions the professor had written. His eyebrow arched up. It doesn't sound that difficult. Cut this root this way. Shred that root and add it slowly. All that was required was to follow directions.

He looked at the girl next to him. At least she wasn't hawking him or telling him what to do. She seemed to be lining up her ingredients for preparation.

By the time Sage was adding the last few ingredients, his potion had turned the proper crimson red color. He glanced at Hermione's. It looked the same to him. Neville, the boy Snape had always harped on, was in front of him and his potion was a funny purple shade. Sage shook his head. He had barely touched a potion in his life and his looked fine. Perhaps Professor Snape had worried too much about him not being able to keep up with the other students. They seemed all pretty thick.

"Step back from your cauldrons. I'll come around and check your work, lackluster I am sure."

Sage watched carefully as Snape walked around grading their work. There was lots of head shaking going on. Lots of Acceptales and not much of anything higher yet, except Malfoy's E "by the skin of his teeth." Neville was the first to blatantly fail. Snape had almost yelled him into the ground. He was coming closer, but then stopped on a dime in front of a small Gryffindor boy and sneered, baring his teeth.

"Finnegan, you have chunks in your potion. Chunks, Finnegan?" He raised an eyebrow. "Everything was supposed to be finely chopped or shredded, how do you have chunks?"

The boy shook his head that he didn't know.

"Zero for the day," Snape answered, "for not even looking at how to prepare the ingredients."

Seamus did not even think about answering back. It would likely earn him a detention.

Professor Snape passed a few more students flinging mediocre grades around and making malicious comments about the Gryffindors, much to the Slytherin's delight. He came up to Hermione, looked down, "EE, Miss Granger." He already had a smirk on his face before he looked at Sage's. But, once he looked down, he looked up at Sage and then looked at Hermione angrily.

"Did you just do the potion for him Miss Granger, honestly, I wouldn't expect that of you. 10-"

Hermione respectfully cut him off, "But, sir, I didn't even say one word to him. I looked at him a couple of times, but he looked like he was doing fine on his own."

The potions master turned his glare back to Sage, and looked back down at the potion. "Better than I expected," he said without looking at the boy, "10 points from Miss Granger for arguing." The Slytherins chuckled. Snape cleared his throat and they stopped. "5 points…" Snape began to Sage and then cleared his throat. "…for beginner's luck." A few Slytherins let their jaws drop.

Did Snape just give points to a Gryffindor? Well at least it was a Malfoy Gryffindor. Thought Draco, allowing a smirk to to slowly cover his face.