A/n. I am still alive. I promise. I don't have MUCH of an excuse for dropping off the face of the earth other than I moved to a new apartment that didn't have internet...that still doesn't have internet. I have been doing my best to work on my fics while I am at places with Wifi and my laptop, but that is clearly few and far between. The semester has started for me again and I have at least an hour and a half everyday to myself, so I SHOULD be able to start posting a bit more regularly (not like before where it was a chapter a week,) but I'll do my best, I promise. I love you all, and try not to be TOO mad at me.
Harry Potter isn't mine but I sure do like playing in the universe.
Once inside the Potions classroom, Hermione realized that all of the other Gryffindor fourth years had shown up, and she was actually the last one into class. Harry and Neville were sitting next to each other already. Hermione frowned faintly as she realized that she would have to either sit next to Ronald Weasley, or a Slytherin.
If it had been any other day she would have slipped into the seat next to Blaise Zabini-even though he was a prat- instead of sitting next to Ronald, but he had been pleasant at breakfast. She sat next to the Weasley boy and started to pull out her text and extra parchment paper. Ron looked up from his doodle of a quidditch pitch and looked startled when he realized who sat next to him. "What-?" He cut himself off, blushed, and looked back at his drawing. Hermione's brow furrowed deeply at this confusing behavior but she didn't press it.
Instead, she turned her attention to the rotund elderly man standing next to the black board. Instead of Snape's intense scrawl, his handwriting was round like his belly and large. Hermione wrote down the ingredients they would need as she kept glancing back towards the man smiling back at them.
The smile was eerie, almost. Not because the smile itself was unsettling, but because it was the Potion's classroom and the Potion's Master was no longer Severus Never Smiles Snape.
"Welcome, welcome to Fourth Year Potions. I am professor Slughorn. I was Potion's Master quite a while ago." He cast his eyes around the room, taking in the bright young faces. Some traits of the students stood out to him. The Potter boy was obvious, as was the Parkinson girl. He noted several other Slytherin students that looked just like their parents, the Gryffindor's too- though Horace's memory was a bit foggier for them.
"In truth I taught most of your parents-should they have attended Hogwarts." He smiled as he recalled a few of his Slug Club decedents, and he was absolutely eager to get started. He clapped his hands together and gestured towards the board. "We'll be working in groups to correctly brew the Wit-Sharpening Potion. I'm sure you've heard of it. Please, can someone tell me one of the best uses for a Wit-Sh-yes? Ms..?" Slughorn cut himself off at the sight of a girl practically frantic with her hand in the air.
"Granger, sir. Hermione Granger. The Wit-Sharpening potion is most commonly used as a counteragent for the Confundus Charm because the potion allows the drinker to think more clearly." She as a spritely Gryffindor, to be sure, Slughorn smiled and nodded.
"Excellent, yes!" He clapped a few times, "five points to Gryffindor. I would like for each partnered pair," he glanced between the groups at the tables and gestured towards the ingredients closet, "to select one student to retrieve the ingredients while the other sets up the work station. Please no crowding, there is plenty enough for everyone." He chuckled warmly as the Slytherin's in the front of the classroom darted towards the closet immediately to make the first choices of ingredients. Only the best for Slytherins!
Hermione, with her lip curled faintly at the back of Zabini's head, turned her attention to Ron, who was sulking in his chair. "What?" She asked him. He looked at her startled and then glanced anywhere in the room but at her.
"I'll just be bored all class, 'cause you'll do all the work." He scratched at the corner of the table and she had to stop herself from scolding him for doing it. It was bad for his nails and bad for the wooden finish.
"If you want to help. Then I won't stop you, certainly. I can't stand having a partner who just sits there the whole time." She was, of course referring to all the other times she had been forced to partner with him in class over the years. He nodded faintly and didn't reply as he got to his feet. He took hold of the list she had scrawled and went to wait in line at the closet.
Meanwhile, Hermione turned and met eyes with Neville. "Who on earth is that, and what have they done with Ronald Weasley?" She asked him. He let out a short laugh and shrugged his shoulders.
"Dunno. Maybe he is sick." Neville didn't seem too concerned about the matter and returned to his text. Hermione twisted a few strands of her hair between her fingers as she also went over the list. She then prepared the cauldron for the potion and arranged the tools they would need to use. Ron returned eventually with his arms laden with ingredients. He clumsily set them all down and had to fumble to stop a vial of armadillo bile from rolling off the table. Hermione reached for it at the same time, and ended up smacking the back of Ron's hand squarely. The sound reverberated around the room and everyone froze and turned to look at them.
Ron turned redder than a tomato and Hermoine started to blush as well. Slughorn assessed the scene and laughed. "Good save!" He chuckled again and the students slowly returned to their work.
"Ow." Ron let out quietly. Hermione slowly removed her hand and flinched at the redness on the back of his hand.
"Ronald, I'm so sorry. I just reacted. Didn't think. Here, let me set up the station and-"
"Granger, I'm fine." He said sharply. He shook his hand once and then pushed the ginger root towards her. "That's first, right?"
"Uh..yeah. That's right." Hermione chewed her lip at this new Weasley next to her and cut the roots to size and slipped them into the cauldron. They worked in an awkward yet not totally hostile partnership. They got to a part of the potion where it had to brew for exactly ten minutes. Hermione turned to him then.
"So you were saying, at breakfast. About the work your brother does with Dragons?"
"Oh. You...care?" He seemed startled. Hermione gave him a blank look.
"Have you met me? It's information I don't know! You must tell me!" She gave his arm a little push. She was trying to get him to relax by being a little goofy, but he just continued to look at her funny. "...Or we can sit here in absolute silence for ten minutes."
"Right. Uh, sorry." Ron ruffled his hair and shrugged his shoulders, "I mean he, uh, relocates dragons that try to nest too close to muggle cities, and they move them high into the mountains or whatever that's not anywhere near anything. Magic does keep muggles from seeing them usually, but even muggles can't miss a giant fire breathing shadow in the distance." Ron chuckled faintly.
"How did Charlie get into that? I bet he loved Care of Magical Creatures," Hermione mused aloud. Ron gave her a look, that said she wasn't far from the mark.
"He was always bringing home something he found in the woods around our house. Always begged Mum to let him keep it in in his room, but she always refused. When he got to Hogwarts he tried to keep a cat, an owl, and a rat. Mum got rid of the cat because Percy was allergic, made the owl a family owl and let him keep the rat when she found out." Ron chuckled and shook his head. "Charlie was one to never really fit in with what Mum wanted, always said he reminded her of her brothers. 'Course he wasn't as bad as the Twins." Hermione laughed faintly along with him and the two of them then continued on in soft conversation about what sort of different dragons were out there.
Turned out, that Ron knew a lot about them. Hermione concluded that he really looked up to his older brother.
"Do you think you will work with him when you finish school? Work with Dragons?" She asked, her eyes alight with curiosity. Ron looked startled.
"I...I've not thought about it." He shrugged. "I still have a year before I have to think about it. How well I do on my OWLS and all." He shrugged his shoulders and Hermione used every ounce of restraint she had not to launch into a lecture about the importance of planning ahead, and making sure he was ready for anything and did the best he could possibly do on his OWLS by studying. Hermione had read that fifth year charms text book fifteen times already, for good measure.
Instead she nodded her head a little. "I suppose you could do it that way." Her worried expression caused him to roll his eyes, but a smile tugged at the corner of his lip.
"I was expecting a tellin' off." He glanced into the potion before back at Hermione, "I've heard you go off on Harry and Neville enough times, to say the least."
"Well." She let out a slightly offended puff of air, "I could lecture you, if you'd like."
"Rather you not." He scratched the back of his head. They lapsed into an awkward silence. A few minutes later Hermione judged the appropriate time to have passed. She dropped in the last bit of Ginger root and watched as the cauldron started to bubble a deep and dark orange. She checked her notes and the board and nodded her head.
"We're finished." She concluded and raised her hand into the air. Slughorn walked over to them and took in a wiff of the potion.
"Splendid work! Granger, Weasley." He patted them both on the shoulder and then gestured towards the empty vials set at the front of their desk. "Bottle three of them, and wait for the rest of the class." He then walked off because Zabini had his hand in the air.
After five minutes, the rest of the class was finished. Slughorn took up the helm at the front of the classroom and turned to everyone, gesturing for silence. "Quite right, I've seen some very good samples of the potion. Everyone receives full marks for the day!" There were applause across the room. He held up a hand, with a smile. "Now, for any students that wish to earn extra credit, take one of the three vials I asked you all to do and come stand here," he gestured to in front of the chalkboard. Hermione instantly had one in hand and was at the front of the room. Second was Zabini and his partner, Parkinson. Other Slytherins joined them up front, but then Harry and Dean joined them. Slughorn waited a few more seconds before he continued. He was just about to open his mouth to explain, when Weasley jumped to his feet with a vial in hand and joined them. Hermione couldn't help but smile a little.
"Very well!" He clapped. "I wish for everyone to line up alphabetically in front of the board." The students shuffled quickly into a line. Flora Carrow was followed by her twin sister Hestia, then Hermione, Parkinson, Harry, Dean, Ronald, and finally Zabini stood at the end of the line smugly.
"Each of you will take the potion as you step up to the board, on the board I will present you with some sort of test that you must solve in under three minutes." He waved his wand and the board was cleared of his notes. Flora glanced at her sister and exchanged a smile before she up-ended the vial and stepped up. A scenario began writing itself on the board, involving flying objects, dangerously coming close to her and damaging the walls and furniture. With one spell, what would be the best and most effective way of fixing the situation. She read the scenario a few times and looked at Slughorn with a blank face.
"Immobulus?" She asked. He nodded a little.
"You could certainly do that," he replied with a smile. "But what of the damage to all the furniture? You only had one spell to use." She shrugged her shoulders and he gestured her away. Her sister stepped up to the board and that scenario disappeared.
The second Carrow sister did not get a similar problem, instead she got a riddle. Hermione knew the riddle to be the Sphynx's Riddle, and she almost had to stop herself from raising her hand to answer it. Hestia read the riddle twice and, with surety, answered, "Humans." Slughorn clapped.
"Well done! That's five extra marks for you, and ten points for Slytherin!" Hestia beamed at her fellow Slytherin's then joined her sister at their table.
Hermione drew in a deep breath and stepped forward. She tipped the bottle against her lips and swallowed the orange potion with a grimace. It tasted of chalk and lemons. She stepped up to the board and watched as Ancient Runes blossumed across the board. She stepped forward and with each rune she read, her brow furrowed deeper.
"This makes no sense, Professor," she said quietly, causing the Slytherin standing behind her to laugh.
"Explain, if you please," Slughorn seemed pleased with himself.
"The first two runes read in the past tense for 'I worked on,' but then the tense shifts and the declension is improper for 'a problem,' as is, it reads 'their problems.' Now that really wouldn't be too bad of an error if the next phrase wasn't future tense for 'expressing delightedness in dinner.' You would have to change either half of the sentence to work with the other. Perhaps it should be, we are working on their problems by expressing delightedness in dinner. OR I worked on my problem by expressly eating a delightful dinner." She wrote the sentences on the board in ancient runes as she spoke out. Slughorn clapped his hands.
"Splendid! Absolutely Splendid!" Slughorn beamed, "eight extra marks and eleven points to Gryffindor!" Hermione blushed as she went back to her seat, her mind raced through several things all at once. Her Arithmancy scrolls she needed to work on, at the forefront. She dug into her bag and pulled them out. She flattened them on her desk and started work on them immediately.
At the front of the classroom, Parkinson was facing a large list of ingredients and their amounts. Her problem was figuring out how many different potions she could make with the list of them, without running out of ingredients. "Five," she said after a very quiet and intense two minutes, "Blemish Blitzer, Cough Potion, Doxycide, and Forgetfulness Potion. That leaves the Bezoar and Lacewing Flies."
"Perfect!" Slughorn clapped again, "eight extra marks and eleven points to Slytherin!" Parkinson returned to her seat looking very pleased for herself. Harry stepped up, his fingers shaking slightly in his nervousness.
Dates began popping up on the board, specific days and months along with the year. Harry took his potion hastily and glared at the board, deep in thought. "1473-the first year of the Quidditch World Cup. 1289-the Internation Warlock Convention. 1892-The last year the Chudley Cannons won the League Cup-"
Hermione, meanwhile, wasn't hearing any of this, and only had eyes for the scrolls in front of her. She couldn't turn away. The equations were making so much more sense. The answers were just floating before her eyes as she worked through them. Never had she been able to complete predictions this quickly. Already in the minutes it took Harry to work through his problem, she had already solved the fictitious situation of a few muggles witnessing several wizards disapparate with only one minor Obliviate spell and and some crafty work with a few mirrors. This next equation she was sifting through would help predict the weather a month in advance.
Clapping caused her head to jerk up. She had zoned out in her predictions long enough that she didn't notice Harry complete his task, Dean step up and complete his, or Ronald take a stab at his. Ron was looking red in the face at the rest of the class, a hand scratching the back of his head. On the chalkboard was a sketched out wizard chess board, with chalk pieces arranged in the middle of gameplay. Hermione's eyes widened as she realized that Ron had won the game. In less than three minutes. The rest of the class was surprised as well, which was why there was so much clapping.
"Excellent work Mr. Weasley!" Slughorn said happily. He gestured for Ron to take a seat, and the boy mechanically moved to sit down. Zabini stepped up to the board. Like the first Carrow sister, Zabini was presented a logic problem. His involved a room full of wizards, each wizard was described in appearance and what they were wearing, as well as how they were holding each wand. A dead wizard lay between them all. Who killed the wizard?
Zabini re-read the scenario a few times. "The Wizard in the silver robe and shined black shoes, holding the wand straight down at their side." He smiled confidently at Slughorn.
"Why is that?" Slughorn asked. Zabini raised a nonchalant shoulder.
"Clearly the best dressed and most powerful wizard among them, the dead wizard was also dressed well. And that wizard was holding their wand directly down at their side. It's not an aggressive stance, but self conscious. It's not raised in defense either, as they have no fear of being attacked for they were the one that did the attacking."
"Well done! Ten points to Slytherin and eight extra marks!" Slughorn gestured him back to his seat and stood in front of the class. "What a wonderful first class, Fourth Years. I hope we can come to each class from here on out with just as much excitement and wit. I would like a half parchment on your thoughts of how the class went, with a particular focus on the ending exercise. Due next class, you are all dismissed."
Hermione gathered up her belongings and darted out of the class, her mind whirring full of Arithmancy equations.