A/N: I am finally off from school, so I will probably be updating it a lot. I know it's slow so far because I haven't gotten into the good stuff, but oh well!

Thanks to the people who added me as their favorite authors! I would love some feedback, too! ;)

I will update asap! I hope you enjoy!

_

Chapter 2

Al was back at Hogwarts for another year. Back to school, back to his back-to-back classes, and back to his mountain of homework that was already growing to be a monster on the first day.

And he was ten minutes late to his Potions class. Perfect.

Losing track of time was one of Al's more prominent flaws; he wore a watch, but he never bothered looking at it. It was too easy for him to get lost in his thoughts, especially since he had that damned textbook to worry about.

As he pushed through seas of students going up to other floors, Al ran down to the dungeons and through the door where he was sure to interrupt his class. He had prepared an apology for his professor, but the teacher who he had all five years he attended Hogwarts was not standing at the front of the class. Instead, it was a woman.

She was rather curvy, almost heavyset, but not enough that it would be unattractive. She had a full bosom, a small waist, and wide hips. Her hair was a honey brown and in wide, natural curls that fell down to about the middle of her back. Her eyes were a pale gray, and her face was round and friendly. She was young; maybe only a couple of years older than them, and Al immediately felt somewhat attracted to her.

Apparently him being late didn't seem to phase her much, though. All she did was smile at him and point him to his seat next to Rose as if she had been expecting him all along.

"Where have you been? You're nearly fifteen minutes late!" Rose spat at him from under her breath as she removed all of her textbooks and notebooks from the empty desk next to her.

"Lost track of time," Al explained and sat down before he caused anymore distraction to the class. "Who's she?"

Before Rose could continue, the woman spoke.

"As I was saying," the woman spoke as she addressed the class again. "My name is Agatha. Agatha Snape," Al squeaked slightly at her name, and Rose glared at him from the corner of her eyes. "I am sure that my surname may be familiar to some of you who maybe had parents who attended Hogwarts. I am a rather distant cousin of the late Severus Snape who used to teach Potions here a fair bit of years ago."

Everyone gasped a little, but Lorcan did speak in what was not exactly a whisper. "How is it that she is related to Snape? He wasn't exactly a handsome man, and she's definitely a looker."

Agatha didn't seem all that amused, but again, she looked as though she had been expecting reactions like that. She was beautiful and confident. Perhaps that was why Rose was huffing under her breath next to him.

"I will be taking over this class as your previous professor has decided to retire, but please, call me Agatha, or Professor Agatha if you must," she said with a smile. Perhaps she, too, realized that Professor Snape left a sour taste. There definitely was nothing sour about her.

Al sighed, and smiled simply at Agatha as he continued to listen to her. Time would definitely stand still for him while she was around.

Rose ripped out a piece of paper from her notebook as Agatha continued to talk about the course guidelines and the syllabus she had drawn out for them. She scribbled something with her ballpoint pen, and passed it to Al.

She had to nudge him in the arm and point at the sheet of paper to get him to realize it. She rolled her eyes.

Al looked down at the piece of paper and read what Rose had written:

"Put your tongue back in your mouth and stop slobbering over her. She's our teacher!"

Al, too, rolled his eyes as he snatched up Rose's pen.

"Don't be mean, Rosey. You have to admit, she's the best looking professor here! Do you think she's part Veela?"

"Veela? Don't be stupid, Al! Look at her hair; it's dark! And her skin is tanned. And besides, if she was part Veela, that'd probably mean that Snape was, too."

"Good point. That would probably defy the rules of science."

"I am sure Agatha thinks very highly of her cousin-twice-removed-whatever-they-are."

"Doubt it. I think my Dad is probably the only one that thinks 'very highly' of Snape. Oh, but speaking of Snape, do you think that I should show her that textbook I have? She might be interested."

"Yeah, you'd look for any reason to stay after class with her, wouldn't you?"

"No, I don't mean it like that, Rosey! I just think that maybe she'd like to see it. Don't you? I mean, the guy was her cousin-whatever."

"Yeah, good point. You don't have the confidence to manage to utter a word with her when it is just the two of you, I'm sure. And anyway, I wouldn't show her the book. At least, not unless you want it to be confiscated."

"Haha. Why do you think she'd confiscate it?"

"Think about it, Al. While your dad says it doesn't have dark magic - and hey, maybe he's right - it does clearly have some kind of magic. She'd probably turn it into Headmistress McGonagall or something."

"Doubt it! She doesn't seem the type."

"She's a teacher, so it's her job to be that type. And besides, she's talking about your beloved book. Maybe we should pay attention?"

Al crumbled the piece of paper, and turned his attention back to Agatha. She was deep in speech about what to expect this year, and what every student would need. "I will be teaching from Advanced Potion-Making, which you all should have picked up a copy of. If you don't have one, I have a couple of extras, but my supply is limited and they are in horrible condition with handwriting all over the pages," she said, and peered over at Al with a smile. His breath hitched.

Had she known about the book? No, she couldn't have. As far as he knew, his father always had it. Al didn't see what was so special about it, so why would Snape had mentioned it to his cousin, or anyone? It couldn't matter that much.

But it did matter. Al didn't want to believe it, but he knew that the book contained some kind of magic. He could feel a coolness against his palms as he held it in his hands that had nothing to do with him being in the dungeons; the book always seemed like it had been stored in the refrigerator for safe-keeping. That, and as hard as he tried to look at Agatha and pay attention, he kept his gaze glued to the book. It was like it had kept him in some kind of trance.

Rose kicked him from underneath the desk, and he dropped the book. He was able to focus, but it was still in the back of his mind. "This year, I am sure, you will find to be quite difficult. I want to readily prepare you for your seventh year with me, which I can assure you, will not be easy. Every time you step in this class, you will be required to produce a new potion unless the potion requires the contents to sit for an extended period of time, and I will let you know if that is the case. After every class, I want you to write one page about what you learned in that class, or from the text, and how you applied it to your potion-making. After we complete a potion, I will ask you to write a detailed report on whether or not you think that potion is important for current potion-making and medicine."

Lorcan's mouth was hanging open at the load of work, and Lysander whispered over to Al, "It's a damn good thing you've got that textbook for us!"

Al's eyes flashed at Agatha, hoping she didn't hear what Lysander had said. She simply smiled and turned her back on Al, leaving him looking utterly confused, but it didn't surprise him that she was also peculiar. Strange Snapes.

Agatha had assigned them a new potion to do that neither of his three friends had heard of, including Rose. Lorcan groaned as he walked to the front of the class and grabbed ingredients for the four of them, and Rose flipped through her own Advanced Potion-Making text. She frowned.

"What is it?" Al asked her as he flipped to page seven, where the potion's directions were printed alongside scribbled hand-written suggestions.

"I haven't heard of a single potion in here. Well, except for a few that I never thought we'd learn at school! There's Felix Felicis in here. I had always figured that it'd be banned from Hogwarts or something," Rose told them.

"Then aren't you glad Al's got that book?" Lysander asked as he leaned over Al's shoulder and mumbled to himself as he tried to decipher the handwriting. "Wait, how the hell are you supposed to read this? It looks like a five-year-old wrote it."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Good. You shouldn't be using it, no matter how hard this year is going to be."

"C'mon, Rosey. You know you want to use it, too!" Lorcan joked as he rejoined them with armfuls of ingredients.

The four of them chattered, and at first, tried to follow the actual directions of the book, as well as what Agatha had written on the board. The directions weren't exactly hard, but it was like the potion they were making was picky; the ingredients had to be just so, and many of them had to be extracted. The potion had to be stirred a certain way and for a certain length of time, and if you did it perfectly, then you were on the right track.

Al definitely wasn't on the right track, and it seemed like Rose, Lorcan, and Lysander were all struggling.

"We're going to be here all day to get our potions to simmer the right way," Lorcan said with a groan as he rested his head on one hand, and weakly stirred his potion the wrong direction with the other.

"Maybe it's because you're supposed to stir it the other way, Lor." Rose said as she rolled her eyes and added a handful of things to her potion. It seemed to spat at her, but at least was close to the right consistency.

The four of them worked in silence as they all desperately tried to make their potions correctly. Al wiped the swear that had accumulated on his forehead on the sleeve of his robes. When he looked up to see the board for the next step, he noticed that Agatha was standing in front of him. He dropped his cutting knife in his potion. It turned a violent red and gurgled.

"Hmm, well, that was not an ingredient, Mr. Potter. I'm sorry to have frightened you," Agatha said with a smile as she folded her arms over her chest. "I actually came to ask something. May I have a word with you in my office?"

Without looking at the blank look of his friends, Al rose from his desk and started to follow Agatha, but she stopped him with a delicate hand pressed firmly to his shoulder. "Ah, I would like you to also bring your textbook, Mr. Potter, please."

He hesitated, but nodded as he scooped up his book and held it to his chest and followed her like a lost puppy back to her office. He didn't mind talking to her, but he wasn't sure if he could surrender his textbook over to her. Especially since it had once belonged to his father.

Her office was very comfortable, and closely resembled the Gryffindor Common Room. The floors were made of hardwood, so unlike a regular dungeon, and her walls had a beautiful sort of print in a burgundy red and cream color. All of her furniture seemed comfortable enough to sleep in, and instead of having a desk, she had several lap tables.

Agatha pointed to her large couch and invited Al to sit down. As he did, he still had a stranglehold on the book in his hands, even though they were starting to go numb from holding it, it was so cold.

"So, Mr. Potter, I am aware that you are Harry Potter's son," Agatha said, looking down at him with a smile.

Al looked a tiny bit confused; he wasn't expecting a statement like that. He thought it was common knowledge. "Erm, that's right, Professor Agatha."

"And, as I understand, your whole name is Albus Severus Potter?" Agatha asked.

Al flinched a little. "Um, yeah, that's my full name, but I just like to go by Al if that's okay, Professor Agatha."

She smiled. He hesitated, and looked back at his book that immediately stole his attention. All he could do was listen to Agatha; his eyes had no hope or intention of looking at her. "Alright, Al, but in the classroom, I will address you as Mr. Potter," she gave a tiny stifled giggle, and went tense. "However, I did not ask you to come back to talk to you about what to call you. I asked you to come to my office to talk about that book you're holding, Al."

Al looked up at her for a second, and then looked back down at the book that felt like a block of ice in his hands. "What about it? It's just a… regular textbook. The one you had asked me to purchase, Professor Agatha."

Agatha laughed a bit. "You and I both know, Al, that it is not a regular textbook," her voice went serious again. "I know who it originally belonged to and I know that your father passed it down to you. I don't intend to take it from you, or to ask you not to use it," she paused, and Al looked at her. Her eyes were wide and concerned, and glued to the book in his lap. He wondered if that's what he looked like whenever he was staring at it. "It's just… well, that book is definitely not a regular textbook. Be careful with how you use it, Al."

So he was right. It had magic. At least he wasn't going crazy. "Um, Professor Agatha, can you please tell me how it is not a regular textbook? Do you know?"

"That is something for you to discover, Al. It was passed down to you, not me, and the book seems as much taken with you as you are with it," Agatha said, tightening her arms around her body as she forced herself to look back up at Al. "It won't hold the same power over me as it does you. It's odd," she told him, and ran her finger across the front of the book. Nothing. It felt like a regular book. She sighed. "You're dismissed. I daresay you're due for your next class in a few short minutes, so you better get a move on."

Al nodded, and quickly ran out of her office to face an abandoned classroom. He stored the book safely in his bag, and rushed out of the dungeons and up the stairs to Transfiguration.

As he took the stairs three at a time, he thought of the strange textbook and absentmindedly caressed it in his bag. He was absolutely certain now, more than ever, that it did contain magic, and what's more, it seemed to only work to its greatest potential with him.

But why? He didn't understand.

-

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