AN: Avrilavril and DevilsTune, thank you so much for leaving reviews. You have no idea what it means to me to know that someone out there not only read my fic, but actually enjoyed it too.
Here's the second chapter. I'm hoping to have the third one up before the weekend.
By the way, this story is set some time before the first book, so no Harry, Ron or Hermione. Some of the older Weasly's are probably already running around Hogwarts though.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognise; the Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling.
Relieved that at least Snape's attention was no longer on her, Calliope sank down on her seat and spent the next few minutes trying to calm herself down so that she might be able focus on the task the teacher had set her. She shivered as conflicting emotions raged through her. She was angry, both with Snape and herself, she was embarrassed, but most of all, she was terrified. Sweet Athena. What have I done! I've just landed myself a detention with Snape. And probably deservedly so. What is wrong with me?
Snape made her nervous at the best of times. The Ravenclaw was one of those girls who had elevated blending into the background into an art form. She hated being the centre of attention and having to speak in class always made her uncomfortable. Whenever she found a teacher addressing her, even a kind one like Professor Flitwick, she always ended up blushing and stuttering. Which was, of course, part of the problem when it came to potions. Although Snape did not pick on her especially, she had been the object of his sarcasm and humiliating remarks often enough to know that she could not cope with them emotionally. What made it even worse was the way he stared down anyone he was addressing, his black eyes seeming to burn into your very soul. It was no doubt a deliberate intimidating tactic, and it worked. Even the most confident of students shuddered in fear under the scrutiny of the Potions Master. As for Calliope, she was far from confident, and the anticipation that at any moment he might single her out with a question or comment meant Calliope's nerves were always highly strung during potions. And highly strung nerves caused her to be clumsy and make stupid mistakes. The harder she tried to prevent slip ups, the worse it got. It was a vicious circle, Calliope knew it was, but no matter how hard she tried, she could not break free from it. This year, it seemed to have gotten worse.
Biting back the urge to burst into tears, Calliope eventually managed to compose herself somewhat, and turned her attention to the essay she was to write. Having something else to focus on actually helped her calm down further. When she set to the task, she was not surprised that she spotted her initial mistake very quickly. Another one that really should not have happened; she had forgotten to add the lacewings at the start of the recipe. That, no doubt, accounted for the lack of lace-like vapour. As for the almond smell, well, that was a common by-product of magical reactions, so she was almost certain that the lacewings reacting to the other compounds in the potion would have produced it as well.
When the bell eventually rang to signal the end of the class, Calliope's classmates scrambled to leave the room as quickly as possible. Several of them shot her sympathetic looks as they passed. Calliope was grateful, although it didn't do much to prevent the sheer panic rising up in her knowing she had to face Snape again. The teacher was sitting at his desk at the front of his class, examining the vials of potion and notes the other sixth years had just handed in. He was not paying her any heed.
But no way in Hades that he has forgotten about me.
Swallowing a lump in her throat, Calliope stood, gathered up her completed essay and started towards the front of the class. She felt like a condemned witch in Azkaban, walking to receive the Dementor's kiss. She halted several steps away Snape's desk, scroll of parchment in hand, waiting for him to acknowledge her. She was not about to anger him even further by interrupting him.
The longer he ignored her, the more nervous she became. Having nothing else to occupy her mind, she started mulling over the incident earlier, and imagining what might be in store for her as punishment for her outburst. Detention, certainly. I've never had detention before, what will mum and dad say? What will he have me do? Write lines? Or maybe he will make me help Filch with some disgusting job. By Athena, why did I have to tell him it was his fault? By the time the Potions Master looked up, Calliope had herself all worked up and was close to tears again. Snape regarded her for a moment, his expression revealing nothing, just those black piercing eyes fixing on hers. Very soon, she felt unable to meet his gaze any longer dropped her eyes to the floor.
'Miss Lode. Would you care to explain your behaviour earlier?'
Without looking up, Calliope took another two steps forward until she was within reach of the massive oak desk. Her hand was shaking as she placed the scroll of parchment on top of the desk.
'I am sorry sir.' She muttered it, still looking at her feet.
'Look at me when you are talking to me!' Snape snapped. Calliope lifted up her head, struggling not to flinch under the poisonous scowl Snape was bestowing on her. Even if he had not noticed her unsteady hand, he could not fail to see the distress clearly marked in her face, but the Potions Master's face did not display a hint of sympathy.
'Indeed. You are sorry.' Without taking his eyes of her, his hand reached out for the parchment and he pulled it towards him. 'But what are you sorry for? Are you sorry that erroneously blamed me for your own incompetence, or do you simply regret voicing that opinion out loud?'
'I don't know, sir', she responded softly, unwilling to tell him the truth and not knowing what other response to give. Snape snorted, lips pressed into a thin line and eyes narrowing as he continued to regard her closely. 'Oh, don't bother to give a more appropriate answer, Miss Lode. It was a rhetorical question. The fact of the matter is, however, that you have a problem. Brewing was never your forte, but your performance this year in my class has been abysmal. What do you propose to do about it?'
His remarks hurt. It took all Calliope's willpower now not to just turn and run. She dropped her eyes again, blinking away tears in a useless struggle to contain them. 'I will try harder, sir', she eventually managed in a strangled voice.
'No miss Lode. You will not simply try harder. You must do better. You have yet to complete one successful potion in the NEWT class. As you are no doubt aware, I accept only the very best and at the moment, you are most decidedly do not fall into that category. If you cannot meet the standard required, you will have to drop potions altogether.'
Calliope's head snapped up at that. She stared at Snape in open-mouthed horror. He means to drop me from potions? But I've never failed a class before…
He gave a sardonic chuckle. 'I see I have your attention now. Yes, Miss Lode. I have in the past dropped students from my NEWT class when they could handle the demands of more advanced potion making. I will do it again. You have one more chance to prove that you belong in NEWT potions. I suggest you apply yourself properly during next week's lesson because I will not tolerate another failure from you.'
Calliope's tears started falling in earnest now, Snape looking on in disgust. 'Pull yourself together, Miss Lode, and get out of here. You will serve detention with me on Saturday morning as punishment for your earlier insolence. Report at eight in this classroom, and come prepared as you would for a lesson. I do expect you to be more composed then.' Snape's eyes dropped down to his desk for a moment, where he was still holding her essay and in a sudden movement thrust the parchment across his desk back towards her, rising from his seat as he did so. 'And take this with you. I trust you had the insight to analyse the mistakes your incompetence caused you to make. Although,' he paused as he regarded the upset witch in front of him with a sardonic smirk, 'perhaps you were not quite your insightful self today.' The Potions Master stood watching as Calliope hastily snatched up the parchment, turned and not quite ran towards the door, gathering up her bag from her desk without slowing down. When she was clear from classroom, she did run, straight into the nearest bathroom.