Nothing in the world of Harry Potter belongs to me. I'm just playing in the great J.K. Rowling's sand box. Thank you.

Chapter Three - The Potion Master

September 2, 1991

Severus Snape sat at his desk, hands clasped around his pounding head. He had several headache and sober-up potions on hand in the desk drawer, but even in his still slightly intoxicated state, he knew better than to take two in a row. He would have to wait a bit before taking another.

During the previous night, after he had passed out in his chair, he had woken up in the early morning, empty bottle of fire whiskey in his hands. Severus had angrily tossed it into the fireplace. He didn't even flinch as the small residual flames in the hearth flashed to life as the bottle broke and splashes of alcohol ignited.

With a groan, he had lifted himself from the chair and stumbled over to the small sidebar he kept in his rooms. It was mostly full since he and his wife hadn't indulged too often, mostly a bottle of wine with dinner from time to time. However, it had always been well stocked in case of visitors, which Severus had taken advantage of in his drunken haze.

Grabbing another bottle of whiskey off the shelf, he had turned, taking only a few steps before tumbling face down onto the couch. Rolling on to his back, he had decided that it was as good a place as any and worked on prying the lid off the bottle. After several minutes of failure to get his hands to cooperate with him, his temper flared and his magic sparked, causing not only the top to come off, but shattering the mouth of the bottle. Paying no mind, Severus had simply brushed off the shards of glass from his frock coat and lifted his head to the bottle. The ragged edge of the bottle sliced into his lips as the alcohol flowed into and onto him.

Swearing, he simply wiped his lips with the back of his hand, before pouring more of the liquid into his mouth, being slightly more careful to avoid the jagged edge of the bottle. It burned against the cuts on his lips. It burned against the back of his throat. It burned its way through his body. But it couldn't burn her image out of his mind. So, he had laid there, consuming more and more of the bottle to see if it helped.

That was were Minerva had found him two hours later when she had arrived through the floo.

"Ouch," she exclaimed as she brushed the soot off her robes, catching her hand on an unexpected shard of glass. "Seriously Severus, you wanted to avoid me so much that you booby trapped the floo with glass!"

The severity of the situation hit her when she noticed a bloody Severus, sprawled across the couch, clutching a broken and empty whiskey bottle. Open, bleary and blood-shot eyes show that he was awake, but far from aware. He was a mess, not to mention the widespread destruction of the room. Minerva had known that he would be hurting. They both were. She hadn't expected this. The normally completely in control Professor Snape losing all control.

McGonagall grimaced and set to work. Figuring he was fairly stable, she went to work on the room first, so to avoid any additional injuries once he was up and about. She vanished the shards of glass from both the fire place, then from on and around Severus, then the rest of the chambers, since he's broken everything even remotely breakable in the place. A flick of her wand repaired the bookshelves and the books flew back into place, some a little worse for wear. Chairs and tables few back together and the grandfather clock mended. Once the room was in order, she turned to Severus.

Kneeling down by the couch, Minerva had gently taken his hand in her own, whispering spells. She wasn't a healer, but she knew the basics. Small shards of glass rose out of the cuts on his hand and vanished. She summoned a bottle of dittany, knowing he'd have some on hand. Snatching the bottle out of the air, she carefully uncorked it and allowed the liquid to drip slightly over each cut. The sting of the dittany cleaning and closing his wounds seemed to snap Snape back to reality.

"Ahhhh," he groaned, trying to snatch his hand out of Minerva's grasp.

"Easy my boy," she cooed, "I'm just getting you patched up. Hang in there."

Another flick of her wand and a sober-up potion flew into her hand. The stern witch set it down and moved to his other hand, repeating the process. A quick spell cleaned the blood off him. It was then that she noticed the cuts on his lips, as blood continued to ooze out of them.

"Oh, you silly boy," she growled, snatching the empty bottle from him and vanishing it.

The wizard protested slightly, but didn't have much fight left in him. Minerva moved on to the cuts on his lips, a drop or two of dittany on each. She grimaced as it sizzled and popped. The pain was enough that Severus shot up from his prone position with a roar, but it soon faded. Minerva had pressed an open potion vial in his hands, which he had downed with no argument.

The sober-up potion coursed through his body, working, but not very effectively. He knew that it wasn't a problem with the brew. His wife had made it, so it was nothing less than perfection. He dimply was a light weight when it came to alcohol and he had consumed enough that it was a surprise he hadn't poisoned himself. The potion worked partially based on alcohol tolerance versus consumption. However, it was effective enough that he could focus and converse, but he had to admit to himself he was still fairly tipsy.

"What do you think you were doing?" Minerva had yelled at him. "I know it hurts, trust me my son, but she wouldn't want this."

"It doesn't matter what she would want any more Minerva!" He yelled back, all of his anger rushing back. "She left us! She's gone. What's the point?"

"She's not gone for good," Minerva responded, her tone softening. "We'll get her back. We just need to wait it out."

Severus Snape just shrugged, rising from the couch somewhat unsteadily, before regaining his balance and striding to the door. He hastily threw his teaching robes on over the same clothes he had worn the day before, and left his quarters, slamming the door behind him.

After a quick walk by the lake, to get some fresh air and clear his head, he reluctantly had gone to the great hall for breakfast. It had been pure torture, listening to Albus pronounce his wife dead, though in truth, it felt like she was. The problem was that even though she wasn't with him, he had to see her younger self still.

Having fled breakfast as soon as possible, was how he had found himself in his classroom, awaiting his first class. Glancing up slightly, he peers at the schedule of classes in front of him.

Of course, he thinks, I'm sure Albus thinks this is some great joke, putting her right in front of me first thing.

It wasn't long before the first year Slytherin and Gryffindor class lumbered in. He tries his hardest not to look for her in the group, but he can't help it. Dark eyes find her instantly as she enters, picking a table up front and settling down at one of the three-person tables, in the middle of her two friends. Severus can't help, but remember a much different potions class.

October 1971

Severus walks beside Lily, ignoring the pointing and whispering of the other students, surprised to see a snake and a lion together. It is difficult to just let it go, but nothing could upset him today. It was their first real, solo brewing day in Potions and that is where they are heading.

Professor Slughorn had been occupying them with the basics for the first few weeks. Learning general potions safety, the various ways to prepare ingredients, and knife skills. While it was all very fascinating, Severus was eager to brew.

They arrive at their destination before any of the other students, and Lily settles down in an end seat at one of the typical three-person potions tables. Severus groans internally since he always takes the end seat, not wanting to have to sit near someone else. However, he reluctantly settles down in the middle seat, wanting to be close to Lily.

As the classroom starts to fill, he notices a head of bushy brown hair in his peripheral vision. Turning, he sees that Gryffindor, Hermione McGonagall has taken up the seat next to him. She is digging through her bookbag, pulling out a notebook, quill, ink, and the potion text, flipping to the page for today's brew.

"Gryffindors don't really hang out with Slytherins, you know?" He sneers, not wanting to share the space, especially with a lion that will cause him more trouble than he's already got.

Hermione ignores the sneer and responds easily, "You sit with Lily, and she is my friend, so, you shouldn't have a problem with another lion friend."

"How do you know I want to be your friend anyway," he growls petulantly.

Hermione just shrugs, adjusting and readjusting her supplies to make sure she has enough room.

"I want to be your friend, so why wouldn't you want the same," she announces.

Snape is stunned into silence, unsure how to handle this very bold and pushy Gryffindor. No one wanted to be friends with him. He is poor, wears shabby clothes, and looks funny. Lily and him were only friends because they initially bonded over magic as children, surrounded by muggles. So, what is this pushy Gryffindor's game?

Before Severus can formulate a suitable reply, Slughorn sweeps into the room, clapping his hands together to get the attention of the class.

"Now everyone, today is a special day! We are going to be brewing for the first time, so I want everyone on their best behavior!" Professor Slughorn announces. "Now, we will be brewing the Wiggenweld potion! The recipe is in your books in page 57 and ingredients are in the supply closet."

He stops speaking, but no one moves, waiting hopefully for more assistance than 'follow the text' on their very first brew.

"Well, get to it," Slughorn exclaims, clapping his hands again.

Students rush into the supply closet, fighting for ingredients before settling back at their respective tables to start brewing. The class in uneventful for the most part as students work to complete their assignment. One girl manages to cut her finger, and a couple Slytherin boys had stabbed each other with lionfish quills, but nothing catastrophic.

Severus has just finished adding the salamander blood, and leans over his book to read the next step, while waiting for the potion to turn red. While he is distracted, Gryffindor first year's James Potter and Sirius Black, at the table in front of him, take turns tossing chizpurfle fangs into Snape's cauldron.

The Slytherin misses the distinct kerplunk of the fangs sinking into the cauldron, but grows concerned when his pink solution starts to turn green. Flipping rapidly through the reference text in an almost panic, he missed the snickering from the other table.

"Add another three drops of moondew," Hermione advises, touching him gently on the shoulder to gain his attention.

Slightly suspicious of the Gryffindor, but desperate to avoid disaster, Severus listens and adds the additional moondew to his cauldron. The potion immediately starts to shift back to the pink it was, before rapidly continuing to change to the red it is supposed to be. He breathes a sigh of relief and leans slightly over to his classmate.

"Thank you. How did you know how to fix it?" he whispers.

She doesn't get a chance to answer him then, because at that moment, a flobberworm comes flying from up front, landing directly atop Hermione's mess of hair. Laughter erupts from the Gryffindor boys. Snape glares at them, reaching into his robes for his wand, when he feels a hand on his arm pulling him back.

"Don't worry about it, Severus. You'll just get in trouble, and it's only a flubberworm," Hermione explains, her hands in her hair, trying to dislodge the writhing creature.

Severus stares at her in shock. Helping him. Protecting him. Maybe she really did want to be his friend.

"Would you mind?" She asks him, pulling him from his thoughts. "I can't seem to get it."

He nods and lifts his hand, already long fingers tangle in her hair as he snatches the flubberworm, working delicately to dislodge it without pulling her hair too much. When he is done, she smiles up at him.

"Thank you."

Severus returns to his classroom, all of his students sitting at their desks, staring at him, while he stares off into space, somewhere vaguely above Granger's head.

Clearing his throat, he flicks his wand, the classroom door slamming shut. His Occlumency walls do the same, as he begins his start of term speech for the first years. Like she had always been able to do, his wife cracked through his shields, an image of her, stalking around their living room in nothing but his way too large teaching robes, imitating his speech, making him laugh.

Growling, he locks his walls down even more, turning on the class and finding a source for his anger. While Severus had made peace with the Marauders before the death of James and Lily Potter, he still remembered the torment inflicted on him in school. Summoning those feelings and his rage, he turned his attention to Harry Potter.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"I don't know sir," said Harry

"Tut, tut - fame clearly isn't everything. Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"I don't know sir."

"Thought you wouldn't open. A book before coming, eh, Potter? What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"*

That stalls Snape, as he has been pointedly ignoring Hermione Granger and her hand raised so high in the air her arm has to be aching. He is angry and wants to humiliate the son as the father had done to him. Feeling as if he has succeeded, since his Slytherins as all snickering at the Boy Who Knows Nothing, he turns away. He waves his hand at the blackboard and the questions he has just put to Potter appear on the board.

"Each of you will answer these questions and thoroughly research the properties of the various ingredients. I expect two feet of parchment on it by next class. Start now!" He growls before returning to his desk.

The students opened their books and started thumbing through them, the furious scratching of quill tip on parchment the only sound in the classroom. Severus sits at his desk, clutching his head in one hand and playing with the handle of the top drawer with the other. He knows that he cannot take potions in front of the students, but the pounding headache has him tempted to do it anyway.

Thankfully, before he knows it, class has ended. He dismisses the students with a wave and they hurry to pack up their things and get out. Severus is too busy focusing on his headache to notice that Hermione has waved off the boys, letting them know that she'll catch up. She approaches his desk quietly.

"Sorry to disturb you Professor," she says.

He looks up at her then. Glaring into the face he knows so well. When she spoke, he realizes that her teeth had stayed straight and normal size. He's glad for that, as in his time, she had researched long and hard in their third year to find the spell to reduce her buck teeth due to the Marauders continued harassment. She'd also managed to straighten out his teeth for him then, fixing the damage done by his abusive and neglectful father.

"Yes, Miss Granger," he manages, forcing himself to stay in the present.

"I just wanted to offer my condolences for the loss of you wife. I'm sorry that you're going through this," she offers quietly before turning and leaving.

He spells the door closed shut behind her and groans. Ripping open the drawer, he pulled out a headache potion and downs it, feeling the pounding recede a bit only after moments. With that, he pushes himself up from the desk, glad the room doesn't spin, and turns toward the door at the back of the classroom. Passing through his office without stopping, he enters his chambers, maneuvering around the newly fixed furniture to the bar.

Unfortunately, he has consumed all of the fire whiskey already. He makes a mental note to restock, as he grabs a bottle of rum from a little-known wizarding distillery. Severus glances down at the label wistfully, shaking his head at his wife's extensive interests. As she had gotten older, the muggle ways of her childhood had completely faded in her mind, and she knew that he was not fond of his muggle upbringing. So, they had taken trips to little wizarding villages all over, sampling food and drink, often bring back trophies. The tall wizard currently held one of those trophies in his hands.

Part of him wanted to throw it into the fireplace, smash the bottle and ruin the contents. He wanted to scorch every piece and part of her from his life and his mind. In the end, he twisted the top off the bottle and took several long gulps. He hesitated slightly as his hands went to return the bottle to its home, before tucking it under his robes and turning back towards the door. Returning to his classroom, he tucked the bottle into the bottom drawer, and waited for his next group of students.

Alright, the large bold chunk is obviously text from the book. So credits to Harry Potter and the Sorcerers Stone.

Hope yall enjoyed! Leave me a review and let me know what you think! Hopefully I'll keep up the pace, but sooner or later it will soon. Hang in there with me though! Thanks.