HARRY POTTER
AND THE PRINCE OF SLYTHERIN

Harry Potter and all associated characters and situations are the property of J.K. Rowling. I make no claim to ownership.

CHAPTER 7: Potions and Process

6 September 1991

After the events of the previous Monday, Jim was more subdued. Apparently, the other Gryffindors were upset at him losing so many points so quickly, and he'd also received a thorough dressing down from both his mother and McGonagall. He'd written his father to complain, but apparently James was in the doghouse with Lily over his own actions. She'd actually sent him a Howler of her own that went off in the middle of the Auror's Office – "LET'S SEE HOW YOU LIKE IT!" – and so James advised the boy to let things settle for a while. Not that Lily herself had actually reached out to Harry, who didn't know if she disagreed with James' views on his Sorting or was simply embarrassed by James firing off a Howler at her place of employment. Regardless, Jim and Ron avoided Harry, although he felt certain that his twin had some idiotic Potteresque plan for revenge.

Meanwhile, Neville Longbottom apparently had some sort of falling out with the two and made a point of partnering himself with Harry during Herbology. Harry was dubious at first until Neville nervously admitted that he was frightened of Snape and desperate to pass Potions. He hoped that with an obviously intelligent young Slytherin as his Potions partner, he might make it through unscathed.

"I have three conditions, Mr. Longbottom" said Harry somewhat imperiously. "One: we do not sit anywhere near my brother unless absolutely necessary."

"O..okay, um, Mr. Potter," stammered the nervous boy.

Harry took a step forward. "Two: From now on, you keep your chin up, you look people straight in the eye, and you always speak with confidence, whether you feel it or not. Because you are Longbottom of Longbottom, Heir Presumptive to an Ancient and Noble House. Just as I am Potter of Potter. And if the two of us are going actually earn the legacies our family names have left us, we'd both better get started now."

And with that, he put his hand out. "And Three: You call me Harry."

Neville blinked several times. Then, he straightened his back, took a deep breath, and shook Harry's hand. "Just as you will call me Neville, I hope." Harry smiled. He wasn't sure, but he could have sworn the boy just grew an inch-and-a-half.

Initially, it was Harry who got the better end of the deal, as Neville was a certifiable genius at Herbology, already able to talk conversationally about plants from the Fourth Year curriculum. Apparently, the Longbottoms had made their fortune in the growing and selling of exotic magical plants of all types and he'd been up to his knees among them since before he could walk. It wasn't until Friday that Harry and Neville made it to their first Potions class, and there was a crowd outside the locked door. Theo came over to join the two. Malfoy followed with a sneer on his face and Crabbe and Goyle on each side. Harry still wasn't sure which was which.

"Honestly, Potter, you're partnering with Longbottom again? You're squandering what little status you have as a Slytherin by hanging with such lumps."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You baffle me, Malfoy. I understand why you're hostile to the Potters, though I have no idea what Weasley could have done to make you hate him on sight. And now, you're antagonizing the Longbottom Heir? Has your father instructed you to make enemies of all the Ancient and Noble Houses?"

Malfoy's face flushed, but then his eyes hardened. "I don't think it will ever be possible for the Malfoys and Longbottoms to ever be anything but enemies after what his grandmother did," he spat.

Harry crooked an eyebrow and looked back to Neville, who took a deep breath but met Draco's glare without wavering. "He's referring to an incident from when we were both five years old during which my Gran caused a scene and loudly referred to his parents as 'Death Eater swine' in a crowded restaurant."

Harry pursed his lips and exhaled. "Alright, I can understand why someone might possibly hold a grudge..."

"In her defense, Malfoy's aunt, his uncle, his uncle's brother, and two of his cousins were known Death Eaters, three of whom were responsible for the assault on my parents that left them both ... permanently disabled, and one of whom was the man who betrayed your family to You-Know-Who, so her assumption was not wholly unwarranted. Also, his father, whose family has supported Pureblood policies for generations, avoided conviction for a number of Death Eater-related crimes after claiming to have been under the Imperius Curse. I'm sure it's just a coincidence that within days of his acquittal, St. Mungo's Hospital received a huge donation big enough to pay for the construction of the 'Abraxas Malfoy Memorial Children's Ward.'"

Draco and his minion bowed up as if ready to fight. Harry looked around. The Git and the Weasel were further down the hall but were looking that way. Jim coming over was the last thing Harry was in the mood to deal with.

"Alright, listen up, both of you. I am not going to judge anyone I meet at this school based on what any of their relatives may or may not have done. And I'm not going to surrender the benefits of having a Herbology genius as my lab partner because of something that happened when you were both five! Nor will I blame the Malfoys for something Sirius Black did, seeing as how I looked it up and Sirius Black was one of my cousins, too. In fact, I think, Neville, that he was distantly one of yours. Now then, we're all going to be stuck with each other in some capacity for another seven years. Can we at least try to be civil to one another in spite of what our relatives think? The three of us will hopefully all be on the Wizengamot together some day. We may all hate each other by then, but can we resolve now that we'll hate each other for things we actually did to one another instead of relying on feuds passed down like family heirlooms?"

Longbottom and Malfoy stared balefully at one another, when the Git spoke up down the hall. "Hey, Longbottom! Don't let these slimy snakes bully you around! Stand up for yourself!"

Neville raised his chin without breaking Malfoy's eye contact for a few seconds. Then, he turned towards Jim. "I don't know what you're on about, Potter. Malfoy had just come to me with some questions about his Herbology assignment. Isn't that right, Malfoy?"

The corner of Malfoy's mouth twitched a bit, but he composed himself quickly. "Quite so, Longbottom. I'm grateful for your advice. You're a credit to your house," he said loudly before turning away and making eye contact with Jim, "unlike some others I could name."

Jim made a face and then turned back to talk with Ron when the door to the Potions class was suddenly jerked open. Professor Snape stared angrily at the assembled Gryffindors and Slytherins, as if annoyed there was no fight for him to break up. "Inside, all of you," he barked.

As the students filed in, Harry put his hand on Neville's shoulder. "Neville," he said softly, "I'm sorry about your parents. I didn't know. And thank you for... for being a bigger man than Malfoy deserved."

Neville shrugged but smiled a bit at the compliment. "Eh, he was just lucky that Jim's been more of a prat this week than him. He's been strutting around like Godric Gryffindor himself all week long, and most of us are sick of it."

"Not surprising. If you happen to know, how is Hermione Granger doing?"

"You could ask me yourself, you know," said an amused Hermione from behind his back.

"Ack! You startled me, Miss ... um, Hermione?" Harry said with uncharacteristic nervousness. He had not spoken to his first Hogwarts friend since before the Sorting, and he wasn't completely sure they were still on a first name basis given the rivalry between their houses. The smile she gave reassured him that they were.

"Hello, Harry. I'm so sorry I haven't had a chance to come talk to you, but I had promised to sit with Parvati and Lavender in Herbology, and this is our only other class together. Incidentally, the books you recommended were all in the Library and extremely helpful, even if most Gryffindors aren't as well-mannered as Neville here." Neville blushed at the compliment. "If you're free and interested, Neville and I have a study session planned in the Library for the free period after lunch."

"Yeah, please come, Harry. Hermione's been a real life-saver!"

"Sure thing. Oh, forgive me. Hermione Granger, this is Theodore Nott of the House of Nott."

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Granger," Theo said tersely.

"Likewise, Mr. Nott."

By the time the four students made it into the classroom, the only seats left were near the front, and unfortunately, right next to Jim and Ron, though Ron, Hermione and Neville separated the two feuding brothers. As the children settled in, Professor Snape reentered from the back storeroom with a flourish and proceeded to give a speech alluding to the superiority of potion-making to the "foolish wand-waving" of other branches of magic. Then, he took roll, pausing to remark on "James Potter Jr., our new ... celebrity." Snape had also glared at Harry when reading his name out, but he made no comments.

Instead, he suddenly barked "Potter!" before clarifying "James Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of Asphodel to an infusion of Wormwood?"

Jim rolled his eyes contemptuously. "I don't know, sir. Obviously not shampoo, though."

The room went deathly quiet. Almost in unison, Harry, Neville and Hermione slowly turned their heads towards Jim Potter in complete amazement. Ron was grinning like a mad man, but the rest of the Gryffindors were horrified.

"Five points from Gryffindor for your cheek, Potter. Here's an easier one: Where would you find a bezoar?"

Harry saw Hermione flinch her arm and suppressed a smile. It was apparently taking all of her willpower not to raise her hand.

"Sunken within the greasy depths of your hair, perhaps?" Jim asked sarcastically.

"Another ten points from Gryffindor!"

"My father said you'd be like this – bullying, snide, and cruel – and that you'd probably try to make an example out of me be asking a bunch of obscure trivia questions first thing. He also said to call you Snivellus."

"Twenty points from Gryffindor! Did he also mention I can do this all day? Here's another one: What's the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"No idea. What's the difference between..."

"JAMES POTTER JR. WILL YOU STOP ACTING LIKE AN IGNORANT BRAYING ASS!"

The entire class, including Snape, stared in astonishment at Hermione Granger, who had shot out of her chair and was literally shaking in rage at Jim's antics. After a few seconds of dead silence, Snape quietly said "Five points to Gryffindor." Hermione took a deep breath and slowly sat down.

Snape turned back to Jim and said, more quietly, "I've had quite enough of your idiocy for one day, Mr. Potter. I'll be discussing this matter with your Head of House ... and your mother. If you will have no respect for my authority, perhaps you will show some for theirs." Jim fumed at that but said nothing more.

"However," said Snape silkily, "in this instance, we have an unusual opportunity to investigate the relative value of nature versus nurture. Mr. Harry Potter! Can you answer even one of the questions I posed to your brother?"

Harry coughed. "I'm confident I can answer all three, sir. In reverse order, monkshead and wolfsbane are two of the many common names for the poisonous flowering plants of the aconite family. And if I had to find a bezoar somewhere around here, I would look for an emergency kit or, failing that, search the store rooms in the section containing animal byproduct supplies."

"Explain," ordered Snape. "For your less educated peers." He sneered at a sulking Jim Potter as he said that.

"Well, a bezoar is a small stone formed of undigested plant matter and harvested from the stomach of a goat. The textbook said that it can counteract most poisons, although I don't believe it actually mentioned which poisons it would not cure."

"For future reference, Mr. Potter, it will not cure poisons derived from dragon's blood or basilisk venom, though thankfully those are rare. And my first question?"

"Er, yes sir. Adding powdered root of Asphodel to an infusion of Wormwood is the first step in the creation of a extremely powerful sleeping potion. I'm afraid I can't recall the exact name of it," he turned to look directly at his fuming brother, "but I do recall it was on the very first page of the assigned reading." And then he smiled. And it didn't hurt at all.

Curiously, Snape did not award Harry any points for his correct answers, even though he was notorious for favoring Slytherins in his Potions classes. The rest of the period passed relatively uneventfully, save for one hiccup. Snape did not allow Harry and Neville to partner as they had agreed. Instead, he placed Neville with Hermione and Harry with Theo. Neville was initially panicked at this change of plans until Harry reassured him that Hermione was probably better at potion-brewing than him anyway, and the four of them would be at adjacent cauldrons. There were a few near explosions, but Hermione kept Neville calm and on-task, and Harry was close enough to whisper some advice and words of encouragement. Eventually, Neville and Hermione produced an acceptable Boil-Curing Potion, as did Theo and Harry. Ron and Jim were less fortunate, their potion resulting in a thick black sludge that melted out the bottom of their cauldron. Finally, as everyone filed out, Harry told Hermione, Neville and Theo to head on without him as he had a personal matter to attend to.

When everyone else was gone, Snape looked up from his notes to see that Harry was still there.

"Class is over, Mr. Potter."

"I know sir. But I would like the opportunity to discuss some ... house matters with you. If right now isn't good, I would be happy to come back at some more convenient time. But I think it's important that we address with this immediately rather than just let things ... fester."

Snape snorted. "I was right. You are just as arrogant as your father and brother."

"Not at all. Before this summer, I literally didn't even know James Potter was alive or that I even had a brother. And I haven't learned anything since then to give me the slightest regard for him. I gather based on things he's said in our brief conversations that he bullied you when you were at school together. And I can see that he raised Jim to be an arrogant bully as well. But he didn't raise me. And I don't want to spend the next seven years feeling as though my head of house was an enemy just because he thinks he has grounds for hating my birth-father."

"I don't think anything of the sort, Potter!" spat the older man. "I know I have reasons to hate him."

"With respect sir, you really don't," said Harry with an eerie calm.

"Explain yourself!" Snape snarled.

"Harry Hunting."

Snape blinked in confusion at the odd expression. "What?"

"Harry Hunting. It's a game my cousin Dudley and his friends invented. They'd count to ten to give me a head start. And then they'd run after me. And if they caught me, they'd knock me to the ground and kick me until they got bored. They started playing it when I was six."

Snape said nothing, so Harry continued.

"In the summers, they had a special variation. Dudley's Aunt Marge would come to stay with us. She raised dogs and always came with a pit bull named Ripper. Instead of chasing me themselves, they'd just sic the dog on me. I have a bite mark I can show you from when I was seven and it got me before I was tall enough and fast enough to climb trees. From the age of about four, I cooked for the Dursley's, cleaned for them, did yard work for them. Sometimes, the Dursleys deliberately spilled things on the floor because I was done with my chores and they didn't want me to have any free time. At nights, I slept in a boot cupboard. My medical records include one broken arm, a fractured clavicle, and at least four cracked ribs. Until I started primary school at the age of six, I literally thought my name was 'freak' because that's what everyone called me. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had to sit me down the night before primary school started and explain that other people would call me 'Harry Potter' so I shouldn't act surprised by it, but in their house, I shouldn't expect to called anything but 'freak' or 'boy.' And as near as I can tell, all of that happened to me simply because James Potter and Lily Potter and Albus Dumbledore thought keeping me around was inconvenient and would complicate the more important task of raising the Boy-Who-Lived into the wonderful specimen of humanity he is today."

Harry stood and picked up his book bag. "I haven't told you any of this because I expect pity. And certainly not because I expect you to do anything about it. I've never met a grown-up who did anything to help me in any way. But I want you to understand one thing: You. Have. No. Idea. About what it means to hate James Potter." Then, he walked to the door and opened it. "Until next class, sir."

"Potter!" The boy turned back. Snape hesitated ... and then sneered at him. "Your hair looks ridiculous. Like some lazy Gryffindor who just rolled out of bed. Get it taken care of before you embarrass your house any more with it."

Harry nodded curtly, and then he was gone. Snape stared at the door for a long time. "Oh, Lily," he whispered, "what have you done?"

Later, while Harry was at lunch, Hedwig flew in bearing a thick, legal-sized envelope. Eagerly, Harry tore into it and pulled out several parchments over which he started poring, absently eating a sandwich as he read.

"What's that, Potter?" asked Draco.

"Some documents from my solicitor. Speaking of which, please remind me to send your parents a thank-you note. They were quite helpful."

"My pleasure." Draco turned then as the Gryffindors came into lunch late. Some were chatting amiably while others looked upset, and the youngest Weasel looked absolutely murderous. On the other hand, the eldest (and most boring) Weasel looked just as angry but it was focused on his youngest sibling. Then, Draco noticed that Jim wasn't with the rest of his House. Turning to the Head Table, he noticed Snape entering late but with a satisfied look on his face. Neither Dumbledore nor McGonagall nor Lily Potter were there.

Draco pointed out their absence to Harry who just crooked an eyebrow and said "Interesting."

"That's not the only interesting thing, Potter," said a Third Year. "I heard that your dad apparated in just before lunch. All the Potters together ... except you of course." The boy laughed rudely as Harry frowned at the reference to his "dad." Then, he straightened up with an excited look in his eye.

"James Potter is here? Where is he?" said Harry excitedly.

"After that spectacle his son – the other one – made in Potions class, I imagine he's in the Headmaster's office with McGonagall, Professor Potter and Junior," said Draco. "Why do you care? I didn't think you'd want to see any of the Potters, and after Monday, I wouldn't think he'd want to see you."

Harry began sifting through the documents from his solicitor until he found a rolled-up grey parchment which he pocketed. Then, he stuffed everything else into his book bag.

"What he wants is irrelevant, Mr. Malfoy. All that matters is what he deserves. Total war, remember?"

With that, Harry practically ran out of the Great Hall and to the gargoyle that stood at the entrance to the Headmaster's Office. Once there, he sat down, collected himself, and waited. About fifteen minutes later, the gargoyle slid aside, and the Potters came through the doorway. As soon as he saw Harry, James' face darkened, as did Jim's.

"What do you want?" hissed Jim.

"Nothing from you, Little Brother." Harry whipped out the scroll with a flourish and handed it to his father, who snatched it up and unrolled it. Then, his eyes widened.

"You've filed ... an injunction! Against either Lily or myself interfering with your schooling or your inheritance? Or even speaking to you without your head of house present? You mean Snivellus?! Why you little bastard!"

"James!" said Lily angrily.

"You should listen to her, Father. After all, you just slandered her and your other son as well as me with that remark. You know, I'd planned on giving that to mother and owling you a copy, but seeing your face in person makes it a thousand times better."

"Do you really think you're going to accomplish anything with this little stunt?" said James. "In case you've forgotten, Dumbledore is the Chief Warlock! He'll never let this stand."

"Oh, I haven't forgotten. Since you broke the seal and read the title, that alerted my solicitor that process has been served. As we speak, he's filing a motion to force Dumbledore to recuse himself from any legal actions involving our family because of his conflict of interest. After all, Father, you yourself told me that it was his idea to have me shipped off to the Dursleys for ten years."

"Harry," Lily interrupted, "I know you're upset about that, and I don't blame you. But isn't this a little extreme?"

"Oh, hello, Mother. It's so nice to hear you actually speak to me for a change instead of ignoring me from across the Great Hall. And, no, this isn't extreme. Threatening me in front of several hundred witnesses to snap my wand is extreme. Promising to have me shipped off to be beaten and abused by your filthy relatives and to illegally disinherit me is extreme. And doing all that just because I was sorted into a house my father dislikes? The same one that his boss, Rufus Scrimgeour, was once in? That's definitely extreme. This? This is just rational self-interest." He turned and walked away, calling back as he went. "Enjoy your weekend, Potters. I know I will."

And once again he smiled.

Updated 8/28/16. Minor dialogue changes.

AN: The idea for the WBWL making an ass of himself in the first Potions class before being called out by a furious Hermione was something I first saw in a fanfic (apparently abandoned since 2013) called "The Warlock of Slytherin" by Romantic Silence. The circumstances and fallout are different here, but I always loved that idea of Hermione winning points from Snape for successfully shutting up James Potter's obnoxious brat.