Chapter 8

A few days earlier

"Matilda Peterson?" asked Hermione suddenly. She raised her head from its resting place in the palm of her hand and looked straight into Ron's eyes.

"Uh, yeah" answered Ron shifting uncomfortably under his friend's intense gaze.

"You're saying that Professor Emrys has met Matilda Peterson" she asked again and Ron rolled his eyes.

"Yeah 'Mionie that's what he said." The fifth year had been retelling his and Harry's run in with Professor Emrys when she had suddenly been interrogating him about the details of his harrowing tale. Harry glanced at the two over the pile of food and books strewn over the table in front of him before sighing and returning back to his homework.

"You're absolutely positive he said Matilda Peterson? asked Hermione again and Ron nodded.

"Seeing as it happened literally twenty minutes ago, it would be hard to forget" Ron sassed, rolling his eyes. Hermione stared at him for a moment before standing up.

"I'm going to go to sleep," she announced with a strange expression on her face. Ron watched her walk to the girl's dormitories and disappear from sight.

*"Absolutely mental she is" he said, shaking his head in confusion and disbelief. Harry grunted in inattentive agreement, not tearing his eyes away from his transfiguration notes.

Hermione raced towards her dorm as soon as she was out of sight. Opening the door and entering the dark room, she felt her way over to her trunk and whispered a quick Lumos before rummaging around inside it.

After a few minutes she sighed in defeat. She must of left her copy of "A History of Potions and their Masters" at home. After all, she couldn't bring every book with her and at the time she hadn't thought she would need it this year.

Taking a calming breath, she stood and changed into her pajamas before climbing into bed. She could have sworn that Draught of Peace was invented in 1924, long before Professor Emrys was born. She must have been wrong.

_

Hermione nudged a sleeping Ron and watched the charms professor wearily. Ron sat up in his seat and sent his friend a glare.

"I won't let you look at my notes if you fall asleep" she threatened quietly. Ron had a flash of panic behind his bright blue eyes before turning back to face Professor Flitwick. Hermione rubbed her tired eyes and glanced down at the sloppy notes spread out in front of her. Her note taking skills were normally immaculate, but as of late had been declining slowly. After Harry had fallen ill she had struggled to even pay the slightest bit of attention in her classes (something she had never had a problem with before) and now she was completely lost in what her professor was lecturing about. She vowed to lock herself in the library for the rest of the day once this class ended.

"...Bewitched sleeping charm should not be taken lightly. If done improperly the caster could accidentally kill the target of the spell. Although the target will not breath while under the spell they will be in a state of suspended animation, meaning they will not age while under the spell. This cannot be used to as we might say 'sleep into the future' because the spell will break when the user runs out of magic or dies" Flitwick droned, making Hermione's eyelids feel a bit heavy.

Hermione jumped a bit when the final bell of the day sounded through the air. She gathered her things and turned to Ron, "I'm going to be in the library if you need me."

"I'm gonna sleep for the next two days" Ron replied and yawned. Hermione gave him a kind smile and walked out of the charms classroom chatting aimlessly with Susan Bones as the two made their way towards the library.

"Well have fun studying Hermione" said Susan before turning the corner towards the Hufflepuff dormitories. Hermione waved goodbye at her friend before entering her second home and settling at her normal table towards the back. She pulled out her charms book and began to read over it.

Four hours later Hermione closed her Transfiguration textbook, looking rather pleased with herself. She stretched and was about to head down towards dinner when a thought struck her. The library would have "A History of Potions and their Masters" wouldn't it? She walked over to the biography section and began to scan the many books lining the oak shelves. In only minutes the gilded title caught her eye and she carefully pulled it from its home in the shelf.

She quickly flipped to the index and scanned it for inventors of calming and sleeping potions. Hermione felt her heart beating in her throat as she found Matilda Peterson. Her breath caught in her throat as she began to read the short biography.

Inventor of the Draught of Peace (still used today) and the original blood-clotting potion (no longer in use), Matilda Peterson was born in 1907 in Wicklow, Ireland. Peterson attended the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry from 1917-1924 and was in the Slytherin house. She invented the Draught of Peace when she was only 17 and attending her last year of school. In 1927 she completed her training as a mediwitch and in 1942 invented the first blood coagulation or blood-clotting potion. She died in 1969 at the age of 62 from a potions accident. She was extremely influential in the medical community and received the third order of Merlin when she was only 1949.

Hermione sat completely still for a few moments, the gears in her brain working at top speed. Every other detail of the professor's story had been spot on, but his timing was completely off. There was no way he could have been older than 24 years old meaning he was born in 1971, three years after Matilda Peterson had already died.

She eventually came to the conclusion that the professor must have added some embellishments to his story to appeal more to Ron and Harry. Although the book didn't go into detail about why she had created the potion, his reasoning made sense. Hermione rubbed her tired eyes and went to place the book back on the shelf. She decided that this was something she should just forget about.

Looking back, Hermione wished she had confronted the professor to see what explanation he could have come up with.Instead she never mentioned it again to anyone for another three years, and even then she was only reminiscing with an old friend over a few drinks.

She packed up her books and began to walk down to the great hall for dinner. The sun was setting in the pale pink sky. She stopped for a moment and bathed in the fading light. She closed her eyes and looked at the slight glow that shone through her fluttering eyelids. Hermione clutched her book tighter to her chest and reveled in the few moments of peace she had discovered. A pair of pale blue eyes gazed upon her, hidden a few feet away. Draco Malfoy had taken to watching the muggleborns of Hogwarts much more closely lately. After his father had responded to his letter with anger and illogical reasoning the seeds of doubt that had been planted by Professor Emrys had begun to grow. He fought against these new ideas with every fiber of his being, but could not stop them from invading his mind in the hours before dawn or late at night before he drifted off to sleep.

Draco was not a stupid boy; he had just been fed stupid ideas. As he watched the Gryffindor, he searched desperately for any sign of inferiority. She tilted her head up so each ray of sunlight bounced off her thin features. Although Hermione was an attractive girl, the feelings of superiority stopped him from seeing her as anything more but an annoyance. He balled his pale fists and walked away from the bushy haired girl bathing in the last rays of pink sunlight.

Merlin sat in the great hall, only picking at his dinner. He was so lost in thought that it took him several seconds to realize that Umbridge was calling his name.

"Professor Emrys!" she practically shouted, waving her hand in front of his face.

"Oh! My apologies Dolores, I'm a bit distracted this evening" said Merlin, giving the woman an apologetic nod.

"Well I hope that doesn't carry over into your teaching" she answered, making annoyance flair in his mind, "I would just like to inform you that I shall be coming and observing your Defence classes tomorrow."

Merlin frowned, "all right...will you be there all day?" he asked. 'Or will I only have to suffer through your presence for an hour' he added in his head. The pink woman gave him a sickly sweet smile.

"Oh I'll only be there for one period, so make sure you perform well." Merlin nodded, secretly sighing in relief and went back to picking at his breakfast. He observed the students sitting at their designated tables spread out in front of him. He spotted a few Hufflepuffs sitting at the Ravenclaw table and a few Ravenclaws settled at the Gryffindor table looking like they were working on projects with their partners, but Slytherin and Gryffindor students sat firmly at their own house table. Safety in numbers he assumed. Merlin had always theorized that Gryffindor and Slytherin were the two extreme houses. Every student in either house were people that he had pegged as all or nothing type of folk. While the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were better at diplomacy and compromise, the other two houses had decided if you didn't believe exactly what they believed then you were wrong.

Maybe that was something they could cover in conflict avoidance this afternoon: compromise. Although he had to admit himself, diplomacy had never been his strong suit and it had taken years for him to master apathy. Although, working in Author's court had definitely helped him learn how to keep his thoughts to himself.

Harry sleepily shoveled potatoes into his mouth. He still wasn't completely recovered from his sickness and had found himself being much more tired than normal the past few days. Madam Pomfrey had told him that it was simply his magical reserves working overtime to make up what had been lost, but that didn't mean he could skip classes.

He barely noticed when Hermione sat down next to him. She looked at him and rolled her eyes before taking his arm lightly.

"Alright, let's get you to bed" she said in a motherly tone before she began to help him stand. Ron took his other arm and the two supported him as they walked from the dining hall.

"You two go eat dinner I can..." he paused to yawn, "...make it back to the common room on my own." Ron rolled his eyes and Hermione shook her head and the three continued to make their way up the Gryffindor tower.

As soon as they stumbled through the portrait, Hermione and Ron dumped their friend on a couch and she ran to go grab a blanket and Ron knelt over to remove his best friend's glasses.

"Get some sleep mate," he said quietly as Hermione returned with a thick wool blanket. Harry's last thought before falling asleep was how much he truly loved his friends.

Harry awoke the next morning with a small cick in his back and feeling more refreshed than he had in a week. Checking the time, he was surprised to find he still had an hour until breakfast would end. He sat up and stretched before sleepily making his way to the bathrooms.

He turned on the hot water and undressed. As soon as the warm liquid hit his skin, any lingering threads of sleep vanished from Harry's consciousness. He sighed and let the warm water run down his lean body, ignoring the slight stinging sensation that the hot water inflicted. The past week had been strange for Harry. The nightmares had not returned after his coma, but he assumed that was caused by his exhaustion. The people who had chastised him for announcing Voldemort's return had generally left him alone, which was extremely welcome in his mind. The strangest part was Malfoy. Most of the Slytherins had continued to give him dirty glares and veiled threats, but his enemy had done nothing. He didn't know if his actions were out of pity or general hatred, but Draco Malfoy had not even looked in Harry's direction in the past seven days.

Harry was yanked from his thoughts when he realized the water had become cold. He shivered and stepped from the shower, drying himself as best he could with a towel and hastily getting dressed. Making a mental note to leave time to change, he bolted down to breakfast feeling suddenly famished.

As he took his seat at the Gryffindor table he was greeted with polite nods and kind hellos from most his fellow students.

"About time mate, I was wondering if you'd ever wake up" teased Ron, earning a small chuckle from Hermione and Harry.

"Gotta get my beauty sleep, this doesn't just happen" joked Harry, gesturing to his disheveled hair and face. Ron laughed openly at this and the three friends wolfed down their food in a comfortable silence.

"So what class do we have first today?" asked Harry.

"Potions I believe" answered Hermione. Harry made a face and Hermione gave him an empathetic look.

"Merlin, why can't they just fire that evil bat already" muttered Ron, earning a half-hearted glare from Hermione.

"Snape wasn't as bad last week" piped up Neville always the optimist.

"Probably 'cause Harry wasn't there" joked Seamus, with a rude undertone. Ron shot his roommate a glare but Harry laughed good-naturedly. Seamus looked annoyed that his words did not have the desired effect and went back to munching on his toast in silence.

After the golden trio had finished their breakfasts, Harry darted back to the common room to change and they made their way down to the dungeons. Although Harry had woken up in an extremely good mood, he felt it dampen with the air with each step he took. The saddest part of the Gryffindor's abysmal potions education was that most of them especially Harry himself, could have excelled in their most hated class. Harry had inherited his mother's knack for remembering exact ingredients and every once in awhile managed to make an educated guess that differed from his potions textbook, but turned out just as well as if he had followed the instructions. Sadly, he had vowed not to try in his least favorite class, if only to anger the teacher.

When the last few students trickled into the dark and cold classroom, Snape turned to face them all with an irritated glare; Harry noted that he looked even more irritated than normal.

"I was considering not allowing some members of this class to move on to the next potion" he looked directly at the Gryffindors, "but incompetence is no reason to hold the rest of the class back." Harry glared at the professor's back as he wrote something on the blackboard.

"I will expect you to all brew the Draught of Peace by the end of class...without instructions" he added, with a small sneer. It widened when a majority of the Gryffindors groaned.

"So I assume none of you have studied for this then. Weasley!" he shouted, making Ron jump "who invented the Draught of Peace!" Ron looked at Snape for a moment before smiling.

"Matilda Peterson" he said confidently. Even Snape looked surprised at this and Ron looked as if he was mentally patting himself on the back.

Snape's features twisted into anger. "I expect perfect potions in the next hour!"

Harry quickly walked over to the storage cupboard and gathered the ingredients he needed. He glanced over and watched Neville fumble and drop his knife just as Snape walked past.

Snape chucked mean heartedly, "I don't know why they allowed you into the wizarding world Longbottom." Harry felt anger rise in his throat and was too preoccupied glaring at the hated professor to notice the jars slightly shaking in front of him.

He made his way back over to his cauldron and lit the flame under it. Carefully, he added the first ingredients and glanced over to make sure Ron wasn't about to blow something up. His best mate was about to drop some unicorn horn shavings into the bubbling mixture, but stopped when he noticed Harry shaking his head violently. Ron jerked his head towards the ground pixie wings and Harry nodded. He glanced back up and noticed Snape watching him intensly. Determined to ignore the horrible man Harry focused on his potion.

Forty-Five minutes later Snape called time. Slytherins sat back with half finished potions and smug expressions. Gryffindors scrambled to make sure their potions were perfect so that their Professor had no reason to mark them down. Snape began to glide down the aisle, smirking whenever he saw something wrong with A Gryffindor's potion. Neville was smiling proudly a perfect maroon liquid bubbling in front of him. Harry felt dread bubble up in the pit of his stomach as Pansy Parkinson discreetly poured some amber liquid in his friend's cauldron. Neville's eyes widened in horror as his once perfect potion began to steam and sputter.

"Another failure I see" muttered Snape as he passed by his cauldron. The professor glanced up at Pansy but did nothing as the Slytherins began to laugh. Harry's vision was tinged red as he noticed his friend was about to cry.

"That's not fair!" he suddenly blurted, balling his hands into fists.

"10 points from Gryffindor for disrespect" muttered Snape, ignoring Harry.

"You saw her slip that into his potion!" continued Harry, ignoring the warning and excited looks he was getting.

"10 more points from Gryffindor" said Snape, looking up to glare at Harry, "looks like those articles in the paper are inflating your ego Potter."

"Have you ever wondered what would happen if you stopped bullying kids and let them learn? Or are you too much of an empty man to ever consider anything but hate to people who have done nothing to you?" asked Harry, looking Snape straight in the eye.

"Silence Potter!" he yelled, making some of the students flinch.

"No!" yelled Harry, "I just want to know what the bloody hell is your problem!"

"Detention for a month potter" snarled Snape. The shelves around Harry began to shake ominously.

"You're such a sad old man!" said Harry, pounding the desk with his fist.

"Harry..." warned Hermione placing a calming hand on Harry's arm, "Professor Snape he's sorry."

"Stay out of this mudblood" snarled Snape, eyes widening as soon as the word left his lips. Many students gasped, including Slytherins.

"DON'T YOU CALL HER THAT" screamed Harry, a surge of anger overtaking him. Every glass jar in the classroom suddenly exploded and wooden shelves splintered loudly. Hermione was blasted back from Harry and caldrons were shoved off the desks. Harry stumbled backwards as students looked back and forth from the two in a mixture of horror and amazement.

"Bloody hell mate" muttered Ron. Harry looked at students who were desperately trying to get their shoes off before the potions that had splashed through them managed to touch their skin. Feeling a horrible mix of guilt and horror, Harry began to back away from a bleeding Hermione.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry," he repeated before racing out the classroom door.

My longest chapter yet! I really liked writing the end of this and I'm really excited to see what you all think of it. That you so much for the positivity and kindness!