Disclaimer: I have used direct quotes from Rowling in this chapter. It's Harry's first potions class, and I figured that Snape's speech wouldn't change.

Chapter 9: The Puzzle of Class

As Harry tried to find his classes the next morning, he couldn't help but wish he had been able to spend some time at Hogwarts before actually starting the school year. Merlin knew Albus and Minerva had been to the castle enough times. Why he hadn't had the brains to ask to come with them once or twice was beyond him. It wasn't as if he had had anything better to do. To make matters worse, September 2nd was a Monday, so that meant they flew right into classes. They had been led to bed after the feast, so the first years had no chance to get to know the school.

Harry decided that his Hogwarts classes made up one giant puzzle. There were a hundred and forty-two staircases that they had to navigate their way through, and they weren't just ordinary stairs either. Many liked to move so that they led different places, and on top of it, some didn't even really lead anywhere but just continued going up. It was only through magic that this was possible, since no matter how long you climbed, you never got past the middle of the staircase. The ones that didn't move were no less of a trick since some had vanishing steps that you had to remember to jump if you didn't want to get stuck in them and have someone pull you out. That was just one piece of the puzzle.

Another piece was the doors. Many had passwords, others didn't open unless you asked politely or tickled them in the right place, and then some just pretended to be doors. It was quite infuriating when you tried your very best just to get around and be where you were supposed to be.

Yet another piece concerned the school ghosts and other students. Both wandered the school and spoke. Both also offered directions, but it didn't take Harry long to figure out that the directions weren't always correct. At one point, Harry and his group had asked for help finding the library and wound up finding the school infirmary. With Ron cursing the fifth year that had led them astray, Harry couldn't help but be glad they hadn't been looking for a class.

While the students and ghosts together made up a piece of the puzzle, Peeves was a piece all his own. Peeves the poltergeist knew no mercy. As far as he was concerned, this was all fun and games. The older students even had trouble with him, and a poor little first year stood no chance. Harry had learned quickly to do the absolute opposite of what Peeves told him to. That was, if Peeves told him anything. Peeves was more the type to make you fall flat on your face or pelt you with objects so that you ran in the opposite direction than what you needed.

Another puzzle piece Harry and his friends had to fit together was the caretaker, Filch. Filch was always in a bad mood and ready to harp on students for any reason. Harry, Ron, and Neville had taken to running in the halls, desperate to get to their next class on time, when Filch stepped around the corner and towered over the terrified trio telling them not to run in the corridors. Filch was even more impossible to sneak around because he had a cat named Mrs. Norris that wandered the corridors. You wouldn't even see her half the time, but when you did, it was too late. She was constantly on alert for wayward students, and when she found some, she would whisk away and return with her master huffing as if he were about to have an asthma attack. Of course, when Harry mentioned this to Ron and Neville, neither one of them had any clue what he was talking about. They had never heard of asthma before, though with how out of shape Neville seemed, Harry thought it was a wonder he didn't have the condition himself.

Class itself was a puzzle, once you managed to find it, of course. They were so packed with information, and it was barely the first week of school. Professors Flitwick and Sprout were cheerful enough. They introduced themselves and then spent the first class introducing the type of work they would learn through the year. Harry was excited about all the interesting little charms that Professor Flitwick showed them and couldn't wait to get started. He wasn't the only one that was depressed to find that they wouldn't make objects zoom around the room until their fourth year.

"Too bad," Neville muttered sadly as he clutched Trevor in his hands after having had him zoom into his hands. "I would never lose him again."

Harry had to agree that, for Neville, this particular charm would be most useful. Trevor wasn't the only thing he kept losing, even though it was the only thing that could really run away from him.

Professor Sprout's class reminded Harry of a gardening class but with magical plants. Harry and Ron were both alright in the class, but Neville seemed to have found his true calling. In every class all week long, Hermione had known everything that was asked and could spout answers off as if she had swallowed the textbook. Nobody had been able to match her, but in Herbology, Neville was right beside her, earning as many—if not more—points for Gryffindor as Hermione.

When it came time for Minerva's class, Harry found himself repeating the feeling that she was not someone to be crossed. She explained everything perfectly, but she was not cheerful. Instead, she was strict and made it clear from the beginning that she would not allow them to fool around in her class. Harry wanted to say that Professor McGonagall was completely different from the Minerva he knew, but that wasn't true; granted, Professor McGonagall seemed a bit more up tight than Minerva, but that was probably due to the fact that Minerva only had Harry to look after, while Professor McGonagall was not only a teacher but also the Head of Gryffindor and the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts. Harry had a sinking feeling that if she let even one tiny thing slip, then her entire world would come crashing down. Therefore, it didn't take much to figure out why Minerva had been such a perfectionist those two weeks Harry had been with her and Albus.

However, Harry was glad to see that Minerva treated him no differently than the rest of the kids. It was hard enough being the boy who lived; he didn't need the entire school knowing that he was now the charge of one of the teachers at Hogwarts, let alone the charge of one of the teachers and the insanely famous Headmaster.

By Thursday, Harry had decided that his least favorite class was, hands down, History of Magic. Even though it was the only class taught by a ghost, Harry personally felt that Professor Binns couldn't make it more boring if he tried.

"You would think after living a full and productive life he would be able to liven up his lectures," Ron had grumbled as he shoved his book as deep into his bag as possible, probably trying to make it disappear for good. The other boys could only nod as they tried to make their way to lunch. Even with all the work they had to put into Transfiguration, it wasn't as bad as History.

It didn't take Harry 10 minutes into his first class to silently thank Minerva for forcing him to learn to write with a quill over the summer. Since Harry hadn't had any summer homework to do before term started, Minerva had forced him to practice writing with a quill during his study time each day. She had given him a little book of blank parchment to write in, as well as a primer to copy. It had been so boring—and at times so infuriating—that he had wanted to just chuck both the copy book and the primer into the lake. Now, however, he vowed he would be eternally grateful to her for not making him suffer through learning to write in front of his classmates.

It hadn't escaped Harry's attention, however, that Hermione also knew how to write with a quill. "Can that girl do everything?" he had once asked Ron who could only shrug.

"For your information, when I learned that we would be using quills instead of pens at Hogwarts, I bought an instruction guide on how to use quills and spent hours practicing so I wouldn't make an idiot of myself when I got to school." Harry had jumped about a foot in the air at hearing her snippy voice.

"Where did you come from?" Ron asked, spinning around to glare at her. Harry just tugged his friend's sleeve to keep him going. He had wondered that himself, but he wasn't rude enough to demand it. At least, not in the way Ron had. Then again, Hermione seemed to annoy Ron the most of the three boys.

"I'm in your same classes, Ronald. Honestly," Hermione huffed as she pushed past the boys to hurry to their next class.

"That doesn't mean you have to be so close all the time like some crazy stalker," Ron quipped back. "Dean, Seamus, Parvati, and Lavender are in our classes, too, and you don't see them listening in on private conversations."

This made Hermione whip around and fix the redhead with a nasty glare. "Private conversations shouldn't be taking place in the hallway where any passerby can hear you," she spat. "Besides, you shouldn't discuss other people behind their back; it's very rude." With that, Hermione spun around again and stormed down the corridor with her bushy hair bouncing behind her.

Honestly, Harry found that Hermione was a puzzle piece all her own. He didn't find her half as annoying as Ron did, but he couldn't stand her as much as Neville seemed to. All he could really do was try to ignore her. He'd had enough practice at the Dursleys'. Hermione may never shut up, but Harry had learned long ago to just tune stuff out. That was a lesson he was going to need to teach Ron soon, unless he wanted to spend the next seven years in hell with the two constantly bickering.

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It was Friday morning, and Severus was more than ready to end the week. He hated the first week of school, and it didn't matter what term it was. Fall term was the worst, however, because he had all the little first years to deal with.

The evening of the feast, he had introduced himself to the new Slytherins and given them a rundown of the rules he expected them to follow. He had then issued the standard Map of Hogwarts for them to use the first little bit while they tried to figure out their way around the castle. He had then instructed them to be back in the common room at eight o'clock sharp the next morning so he could run over a few things.

That was a system Severus had set up years ago; if the second of September fell on a weekday, he would schedule his first years and himself to have the next morning free. That way, he could spend the time he needed to make sure his Slytherins were well cared for. During this time, he would run a diagnostic test on each one to make sure they were well-nourished. If problems arose, he would chart what vitamins and such they were lacking, as well as any special needs or allergies they had. Having all of this down made it that much easier for him to care for all of his little snakes. It also made things easier on Poppy Pomfrey when they wound up in the hospital wing.

He would also have them perform a reading and writing test; just because they were 11 years old, it didn't mean they could read well or write legibly, especially with a quill. If they failed either one, he would sign them up for a special class to assist them so that they were put on the path to success right from the start.

After Severus made sure that his little snakes were healthy and would be able to succeed in their classes, he headed up to the dormitories and had them pull out and show him all of their school things. He would then check against his list to make sure that they had everything they would need for classes, as well as to keep them warm in the drafty castle once winter set in. This was especially important for the Slytherins, since their common area was clear down in the dungeons.

After this yearly, mundane task was finished, Severus was free to start classes. It was no less a hassle there, since, no matter what their year, the students all seemed like incompetent dunderheads more focused on their social lives than paying attention to the potions they were supposed to be brewing. Honestly, it was a wonder that he'd managed to keep his dungeon intact all these years.

Now it was Friday morning, and Severus was about to face his first year Gryffindor and Slytherin class. Usually he loved his first class with the students; it was his time to truly shine and scare them into undoubted submission. This particular class, however, would have Harry Potter. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived and the blasted savior of the wizarding world. As if that were not enough, he was also the spawn of James Potter and Lily Evans. His Lily had gone and married that arrogant bullying toerag. As bad as all of that was, that wasn't even the end of it. No, the Dark Lord had then sought his beautiful Lily and murdered her. Despite Severus's pleading for her, the Dark Lord had murdered her as if she had been nothing, and now her son—James Potter's son—was living under Albus Dumbledore's roof!

Any normal person would ask, "What do you care?", but Severus did care; he cared a lot. He had thrown everything he had with Lily away simply because he was embarrassed. That arrogant bullying toerag had hung him upside down for the entire school to see. Then, sweet and innocent Lily had tried to defend him, and he had called her a mudblood. A mudblood! The worst thing he could have called her, and he had done it. That right there had cost him his beautiful Lily forever because she had never forgiven him.

After Lily's painful rejection, Severus had started running around openly with Lucius Malfoy and his group. That had led to joining the Dark Lord and eventually to telling the Dark Lord about the prophecy, and the child meant to destroy him. With that information in tow, the Dark Lord had thought it was Lily's boy and murdered her after she'd tried to protect the boy. Upon hearing that his master had even planned to kill his true love, Severus had been distraught and ran to Dumbledore absolutely desperate. He had begged Dumbledore to save her and promised him anything. He had then turned spy for the old man and soon grew attached.

Now, 10 years later, Severus thought of the man as his father; the father that he had never had. Tobias Snape had spawned and raised him but had never loved him. Even after all Severus had done, however, Albus Dumbledore had forgiven him and taken him under his wing. He had been a mentor and a role model. Albus had shown Severus love and kindness, and the two had adopted a type of father-son relationship. Not legal, of course, but Severus felt that it was just as binding. Now, however, Dumbledore was about to adopt the spawn of the arrogant bullying toerag. Not only was he going to adopt him, but he was even going to marry Minerva to do it, AND MINERVA WAS CONSENTING! Minerva was half his age, but she was consenting to a "marriage of convenience" so that they could legally adopt—and therefore fully protect—Harry Potter. This was completely outrageous!

Severus sighed. He was a grown adult; there was no reason for him to be feeling like this. It was just hard to get over past prejudices, especially when it came to James Potter.

When he learned that Dumbledore would be taking Harry in as his own charge, Severus had decided to stay away. He still had to mull this all over. Precious James Potter's son, the savior of the wizarding world, was not the pampered prince he had thought. Of course, if Severus had known the boy was being sent to live with Petunia Evans—now Petunia Dursley—he could have predicted the outcome as a lot worse than it was. Now the boy was going to be Dumbledore's son. It had come as a real shock, and Severus had felt quite hurt. He couldn't dwell on that, however; it was just something he had to get over.

Now Severus couldn't put it off any longer. He was going to have to face the children this morning. He had to teach him in a double session of Potions. As Severus slipped into his black teaching robes, he sighed heavily; getting through his double potions session was going to be interesting, to say the least.

Severus waited in his office until the last minute, as usual. When there was one minute before class was to begin, he went next door; as soon as class was to start, he walked in and shut the door. This was how it always worked. If he didn't start off on a firm note, there would be no saving his reputation. Striding to the front of the room like a billowing black storm, he picked up the roll that was lying on his desk.

"You will stand and respond with 'present' when I call your name." Severus's words were sharp, and he hid a smile as he saw that some of the "brave" Gryffindors were already backing deep into their seats in fear. "Brown, Lavender." Severus always started with this to be able to place a name with a face from the very beginning. As such, he looked at each student as they rose. He always loved it when Gryffindors were at the top of the list. Then they had no example to go by with the Slytherins. Sure enough, Brown stood and could barely squeak out her presence. "Sweet Merlin girl, learn to speak up," Severus sneered. If this was the load of trash the new Gryffindors brought in, Slytherin would have no trouble winning the House Cup. "Bulstrode, Millicent." When the Slytherin stood and appropriately announced her presence, Severus nodded for her to sit. After Crabbe, Vincent and Davis, Tracey spoke up as well, he finally reached another Gryffindor. "Finnigan, Seamus." The Gryffindor stood and spoke loud enough for Snape to hear clearly, but that didn't keep him from sneering before giving the nod to sit and moving on. "Goyle, Gregory." The giant clone of his father stood and gave good vocalization before returning to his seat. "Granger, Hermione." Severus had seen the girl the night of the feast and had already decided she would be annoying. Seeing her now didn't improve his assumptions; she was constantly on the edge of her seat, looking ready to prove herself—as if sitting in the front row hadn't been enough. When Severus called her name, the girl shot into the air like a bottle rocket and practically shouted her presence. Severus just glared. "You will do well to remember, Miss Granger, that we are indoors, not at the Quidditch Cup. Sit down." He couldn't suppress the smile that twisted his lips when the girl sank into her seat looking crestfallen. He liked when students knew what they were doing, but know-it-all show-offs tended to get on his nerves. Greengrass, Daphne spoke up, but Severus's sneer widened when Longbottom, Neville could barely even stand, let alone speak. Oh this was going to be fun. Malfoy, Draco didn't disappoint, and neither did Nott, Theodore or Parkinson, Pansy. Patil, Parvati was also decent. Then, he reached the name he didn't want to speak and paused.

Looking at the James Potter clone for the first time that period, Severus was stunned by those vivid green eyes. He truly had Lily's eyes, and seeing them on James Potter's face hurt Severus like hell. It brought all of that hurt back, and Severus found himself wishing he had looked at the boy before now, before he was on display for the entire class to see. He masked his features, however, and forced his sneer to return. He was the spy that had pulled the wool over the Dark Lord's eyes; he could hide his pain from a few teenagers. "Ah yes, Harry Potter, our new…celebrity." He heard snickers from his Slytherins, and his sneer widened. That was just the distraction he needed to keep him from falling apart right there on the floor. The boy stood like the others, and Severus was impressed to see that he kept to the same standards, even though he was obviously already known. Thomas, Dean, Weasley, Ronald, and Zabini, Blaise provided no further entertainment, so Severus threw the roll back onto his desk and paced the aisle between the tables.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making." It was his normal lecture. Tell them from the start what was expected, and hold them to those standards without question. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even stopper death—if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Severus didn't doubt that they were, in fact, just that. Besides Miss Granger looking ready to prove herself no matter what it took, the rest of the class hardly looked interested. Sure they were paying attention and absolutely silent, but Severus just had that gift. Even his Slytherins that he prided nonstop in public could be complete idiots when it came to potions. He couldn't show annoyance to Death Eater children, however, so he pushed through. He was expected to show annoyance at the other students, particularly Gryffindors, so that was where it all lay. If he could express proper disapproval of the Slytherins, he probably wouldn't be as nasty to others, but in order to keep his spy cover he couldn't trash the Slytherins. As a result, he was even nastier towards those he could be nasty to. Since Gryffindor shared his class with Slytherin, his wrath fell heavily on Gryffindor heads.

"Potter!" Severus snapped at the boy, and noticed in satisfaction that he jumped. Here was a chance to see how much like his father the boy was and see just how much he had hoodwinked the headmaster with his sympathy card. "Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Severus saw the Granger girl's hand shoot up instantly but ignored her as he watched the wheels in Potter's brain turn. Finally, the boy spoke up. "I believe that makes a sleeping draught, sir." The boy paused, but just for a moment, and then added, "A really strong one known as the Draught of Living Dead."

"Death," Snape snapped. "Draught of Living Death." Honestly, he was quite impressed; he hadn't expected the boy to know anything. Maybe, just maybe, the boy had inherited more of his mother than those beautifully stunning eyes. He wasn't the only one impressed, but he was the only one not showing it. Weasley smiled at his friend, and Granger gave a small pout as she put her hand down. Severus, however, kept his expression blank. Since Albus was taking the boy in, and the boy had known at least something, Severus decided to give the brat a chance. "As Potter has shown, you all should have at least looked through the book. I will expect you to read the next lesson ahead of actual class. I will give random pop quizzes. It is important for you to know what you are doing before you come so that you are not bullshitting your way through and messing it up. You don't have time to waste reading and re-reading instructions."

Severus was still pacing the aisle watching his class. Then, with a wave of his wand, the instructions for a boil cure potion appeared on the blackboard. "The instructions and ingredients are also in your books. Pair up and get to work." Severus then set about observing the potion brewing and had a hard time keeping his mind off Potter. As such, he occupied himself with dishing out as much criticism as possible and made a big show of praising Draco's potion. It wasn't any better than Potter's, and it was a far cry from Granger's, but he couldn't let anyone know that. Instead, he praised it as if it were the best in the class.

There was a loud hissing sound from the other end of the potions room, and Severus's head snapped up to see that Longbottom had melted Finnigan's cauldron and that students were now jumping onto their stools to keep from getting burned by the acidic liquid seeping onto the floor. Longbottom had been sprayed by the potion and had boils popping up all over as he moaned in pain. "Idiot boy," Severus snarled, as he stormed over to the timid Gryffindor, robes billowing behind him. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?" Severus sneered and rounded on his partner. "Are neither of you capable of following instructions? 5 points from Gryffindor, Finnigan, for not helping your partner. Now get him to the hospital wing." With that, Severus waved his wand and the acidic potion disappeared as the two Gryffindors walked away.

Severus thanked Merlin they made it through the rest of the double session without anything else happening. It honestly was a good thing the first year potions weren't fatal; it gave him an entire year to figure out which idiots he needed to keep a closer eye on as the potions got more dangerous. It was never a good sign when the first potions lesson turned out with such a mishap, though. That meant he was in for a very long year—more like a very long seven years. Severus figured he had already had his hands full in dealing with the fact that James Potter's clone had stolen his Lily's eyes, but now he had to deal with a brainless Longbottom. It would be nothing short of a miracle for him to make it out of these next seven years with his sanity intact.

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Author's note:

I want to thank you all for your reviews. They not only give me motivation, but they also give me ideas. I hope you all had a good New Year. I will try to get another chapter up before I head back to do my student teaching on the 9th. I am so glad that so many enjoy my story, and I love hearing your opinions and ideas.

For those of you who are curious, I looked on Harry Potter Wiki for the list of names for all the Slytherins and Gryffindors. Daphne Greengrass isn't exactly from a reliable source, but I put her in anyway, figuring the more students I could get, the better. I did stick with the well-known 9 Gryffindors, though. I also decided to put the last half in Snape's perspective to show a little more what he's thinking and to show that he's going to give Harry an honest shot here. You will get Harry's thoughts on it in the next chapter so don't worry about that.

Sincerely,
~Lily