When Hermione said the potions classroom was in the Dungeons, Harry had the vaguest idea of what a castle dungeon should look like. But it was also a classroom where students were brewing concoctions that could cause welts, boils, hair loss, blindness, flesh melting and a whole host of other -ings that he didn't want happening to him - so he thought it would at least have windows.
Instead he was led into a moderately lit room with two rows of benches lining the sides. Each bench allowed two students to work at two burners. There were windows but they let in murky greenish, grey light and Harry swore he saw a tentacle waving at him. Torches on the walls provided light to the workstations. Hermione led him to one of the benches towards the middle on the right and helped him to set up his cauldron and potions materials.
"This is a trick, right? We aren't actually going to brew a, what was it…boil reducing potion here are we?"
Hermione glanced around before answering. "Yes, Harry, this is the potions classroom…"
"But, but…there's no ventilation! And I can barely see the board even with my glasses, it's so dim in here. What if I cut myself? And are those the instructions on the board? That's it? That's…"
"Potter, if I wasn't in the Headmaster's office when he spoke with you about your…issues, I would think you were just as dunderheaded as always. A potioneer should be able to brew in all conditions." Snape interrupted, gliding into the room, his robes billowing behind him. Harry decided he had to learn that trick.
Harry looked over at Hermione and could tell she was just as disgusted as he was, just more resigned over it.
"Do you have a problem, Potter?" Severus drawled.
Hermione spoke up first, not wanting Harry's first impression of a real Hogwarts classroom to be a poor one.. "Please, Professor Snape, the last classroom Harry would be familiar with is a muggle one. We would be using lab smocks, gloves and eye protection when working with anything that might cause a chemical reaction…"
"When I wish to be over informed, I will ask you Miss Granger, until then, you are here to observe, assist and, to most importantly, keep your know-it-all opinions to yours - "
Severus suddenly found himself nose to nose with an irate Harry Potter. The boy's eyes gleamed with power in the dim dungeon light. He doubted Harry knew he was doing it, but the boy was oozing raw magic and Snape had to take several steps back, slowly reaching out to steady the shaking cauldron on the desk in front of him.
"If you have anything to say, Professor, I'd appreciate it if you said it to me and not to Hermione. She doesn't deserve your attitude, she's trying to help me and right now she seems to be the only one without any motive to do so other than being my friend. Just because she's bringing up your failures as an instructor doesn't mean she needs your scorn."
"Potter…"
"Harry…"
Both Severus and Hermione spoke at the same time and Harry gave a minute nod to the girl at his right.
Hermione laid a hand on his arm. "Harry, it's okay. Professor Snape was talking to you and I spoke out of turn. I'm lucky I didn't lose us house points."
"It's not okay, Hermione. No one has the right to talk to you like that, like you're less than what you are, which is brilliant. I can see that already and I've only been with you a few days." He focused back on Snape. "New students shouldn't be expected to know all the rules when they step into a classroom. I've seen the first year potions classes and book through Hermione's memories. It just starts with the Cure for Boils. It doesn't even tell you the difference between chopping and dicing! Is it like cooking? Chemistry?"
Snape swallowed and took a step back from the boy. He always assumed Potter's attitude came from arrogance, much like his father before him, but he was beginning to rethink his initial impression.This Harry reminded him of Lily in her early days at the castle, asking him questions he had no basis for comparison to and not accepting that it was simply the way it was done.
Snape's eyes drifted to Hermione before he spoke. "Do you not have the Guide to Potions Preparation from "Agapanthus africanus to Zinnia"? It's recommended reading for all first years."
Hermione shook her head. "No, Sir. Well, not in the original English, I have a translated version from French I found before second year when I saw it in the index of our book. Flourish and Blotts doesn't carry it so I picked it up on holiday and found a spell to translate it so Harry and Ron could use it as well."
Pinching the bridge of his nose, the potions master sighed. "And Mr Weasley obviously never took you up on your offer."
"No, Professor."
"Mr Potter it seems that I have been operating under certain initial assumptions about you and your companions. Those assumptions are clearly proving to be incorrect despite the authority of their source. You have had no prior potions instruction? What I mean is prior to Hogwarts." He was going to have a talk with the headmaster about Potter simply being 'headstrong' and stubborn' and his choice of clothing being 'eccentric'.
Harry exchanged a confused look with Hermione. "That I remember? Not bloody likely. Unless cooking for the Dursley's count as potions instruction this is my first go of it. I mean the second first go of it."
"Dursley's? You don't mean Lily's sister, Petunia do you? Why on earth would you be cooking for Petunia? Nothing ever made her happy as a girl."
"It still doesn't. At least not my 'freakishness'. You know Aunt Petunia?"
"I had the pleasure of knowing her as a child along with your mother both before and during our time at Hogwarts. How is it that you have come to know Petunia?"
"I live with her."
Once more Snape closed his eyes. Neither teen could understand what the surly potions master was muttering under his breath but he didn't seem happy.
"Professor?" Hermione ventured.
Shaking himself from his thoughts, Snape waved his wand and two books floated over to the table. "Nevermind that for now. These are the introductory texts for basic potion brewing. We will start with the basics of ingredient preparation. Since you both are woefully behind in that aspect, I will expect you here after dinner each night until holiday is over, am I clear?" He inhaled deeply. "I will also extend that offer to Mr Weasley but only this once and if he declines he will be on his own for the remainder of the holiday. There will be no fooling around during these lessons. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Professor."
Three hours later the two trudged back to the common room after an intense but satisfying potions review. Snape had never gone in depth as to why certain ingredients were sliced, diced or crushed and how the preparation of said ingredients affected the potion and its strength. In some cases, just preparing one ingredient differently could create a whole new potion. If Snape gave this sort of extra instruction to his Slytherins it was no wonder they mocked the other houses for doing poorly in potions! Harry loved it all, the dicing, the brewing, the anticipation of the potion shifting to the correct color and consistency in the final step. And to find out it was always a class he dreaded was insane! Even Hermione enjoyed it more than usual. She told him she never raised her hand in potions after the first year due to all the harassment she received, so having Snape be civil towards her put her in a wonderful mood.
That mood quickly evaporated as soon as a red headed mouth walked up to meet them.
"'Bout time you two got back! Geez, Hermione, I thought you were holding Harry hostage down there. Wanna grab lunch and then a quick game of Wizard's chess? Just the thing to get your mind off of Snape."
Harry dumped his satchel next to Hermione's by the couch. "Actually, Ron, after lunch I'd like to get started on my potions homework. I think I understand what's going on in there and I want to write it down before I forget about it." Hermione beamed at him and nodded.
"Ah, come on mate, Hermione knows what she's doing. We can just copy what she's got done, no big deal." Hermione startled at this and gave Ron a raised eyebrow along with her glare. "There's still loads for us to do while we're on holiday. We have to go see Hagrid yet, I haven't taught you how to play Gobstones, we need to look at your Chocolate frogs collection and see what we both have and trade…"
"And we can still do that after we work on our potions essay, Ronald. Let's eat and work for an hour and see where we are. Professor Snape even offered for you to come with us each night after dinner starting tomorrow to learn the very basics of brewing," Hermione suggested, looking warily at her friend.
"Ugh, no thank you, I'm still on holiday and don't plan on thinking about work until we have to think about it. But Harry, you are starting to get just as bad as her. I hope you're not like this when Quidditch starts back up, mate. Quidditch is more important than anything."
Harry shook his head. "More important than food?"
"More important than ANYTHING," Ron replied solemnly, jumping slightly as a ginger colored monster brushed past his legs, almost knocking him to the ground. Crookshanks stood before them in the hallway, his bottlebrush tail sweeping back and forth over the stone floor, his golden eyes narrowed and focused on Ron's pocket.
"Damn menace! I thought I told you to keep him in your room, Hermione!"
"And I told you I'm not the only Gryffindor with a cat, Ronald. He is closed in my room at night to sleep, I'm not going to keep him locked in there during the day, too. You usually have Scabbers in your pocket when you're not in your dorm. Besides, didn't your mother send Scabbers cage?"
"That's not the point. Scabbers was here first. You should have never bought a cat!"
"Wait! That's a cat?" Harry interrupted the potential argument as he was crouched petting the squashed nose beast. This had to be the biggest cat he'd ever seen and he'd seen his fair share of Mrs Figg's beasts. On all fours, Crookshanks stood up to his knees and the fluffy beast had to weigh at least two and a half stone. The whole cat vibrated with the strength of his purrs. The beast placed his paws on Harry's shoulder and head butted him, sending him sprawling onto the floor with a laugh.
"Yes, His name is Crookshanks and I bought him in Diagon Alley just before the start of school this year. He was an early birthday present. Well, sort of." Hermione watched the pair on the floor with interest. "And Ronald here is convinced Crookshanks is stalking Scabbers."
"Is he?" Harry asked with no accusation but genuine curiosity.
"Ha! See, even Harry thinks that cat is a menace and he doesn't remember any - "
"RONALD WEASLEY! Watch what you're saying in the middle of the hall," Hermione berated the redhead. Turning back to Harry, she tilted her head. She didn't want to admit it but her cat was more interested in Scabbers than in any other pet in the dormitory. But she promised herself she wouldn't lie to Harry, even if he ended up hating her, she wouldn't lie.
"He does watch Ron's rat more often than not. I've even seen Crookshanks curled up with Trevor the Toad in your dorm. You were actually the one who suggested Ron have Mrs Weasley send the cage."
Harry shrugged as he got to his feet, linking arms with Hermione as they headed towards the Great Hall, Crookshanks trailing behind, no doubt in hopes of a treat. Ron gaped after them for a minute but quickly caught up.
"Sounds like Hermione is doing what she said she would to keep her cat under control, Ron. Why don't you have your rat in its cage?"
"That's not the point, mate! Scabbers hates that cage and he was here first. Besides, he's been here for years. He was Percy's first before he got his owl."
"Isn't that a long time for a rat to be alive?"
"Who cares! Herms's cat is the problem here, Harry, not Scabbers! You're missing the point! Scabbers is traumatized, I tell you! Traumatized."
"Ronald, I've asked, I've insisted, and I've told you please don't call me Herms. Crooks has as much a right to be here as any other familiar or pet. Just because he's mine doesn't mean you can tell me what to do. I keep him in the tower in my room at night. I will not lock him in my dorm all day. I will not lock him out of the tower or castle all day. If that's not enough for you, I'm afraid that's your problem, not mine. And Scabbers has been off feeling since the summer holidays. The witch at the pet shop even suggested you not bring him with you this year."
Hermione kept her head down during her monologue but once she finished she looked from Ron (who was turning red from his ears to his cheeks) to Harry who looked proud of her.
"Completely not the point! Why you…"
"So, Ron, why is it you and I got sweaters and gifts from your Mum but Hermione didn't? Is that usual or will your brothers or sister bring something back for her?"
Caught off guard, it took a moment for Ron to switch gears from being offended by Hermione to figuring out what Harry asked. When he did, he shrugged.
"Nah. Mum started sending you stuff 'cause you're my best mate and you said you wouldn't get anything from those horrible muggles the first year. So you get the honorary Weasley treatment! Hermione don't need to worry about that."
"Ginny got me an Eagle feather self inking quill, Harry, you got me a book on Numerology that I was looking at the last time we went to Hogsmeade," Hermione replied while building a sandwich.
"I got you a textbook?! That doesn't seem like a very good present. Shouldn't Christmas presents be something you wouldn't get for yourself? Something fun? At least that's what it looked like for Dudley. It usually looks like an electronics store exploded on Christmas."
"Textbooks are fun for Hermione!" Ron snorted, shooting roast beef across his plate.
Harry gave him a disgruntled look before turning his attention back to Hermione. "What about from your parents, what did you get?"
She kept her head down but Harry still heard her. "A gift certificate for a muggle bookshop."
Ron chuckled into his sandwich but Harry was piecing together that Hermione's home life wasn't exactly great. Add to it how Harry and Ron neglected her or treated her as some sort of homework robot and he was feeling like crap. It was surprising to find out Snape was good friends with his mum and that he not only met but knew his aunt and that today was the first time in three years that he spoke to Harry about either one of them. His offer to tell Harry of Lily and his early exploits at Hogwarts while they worked was more than enough incentive to keep meeting with the greasy haired potions master.
The small tiger Hermione called a cat meowed between Harry and Hermione, putting his paws on the bench and swatting at this mistress's robes.
"Okay, okay, I think I saw some fish a few plates down. Just don't eat my sandwich while I'm gone." She turned to Harry and wagged a finger at him. "And no bites from your sandwich, mister. Crooks is spoiled enough without you helping when my back is turned." She went off down the table a little ways to a dish that looked like fish and started making a little plate. Harry chuckled at the idea of him sneaking scraps to the oversized fuzzball. But first…
He leaned over the table.
"Alright Ron, what's the deal? Are you friends with Hermione or not? You haven't exactly been nice to her when the three of us are together."
The ginger waved Harry off. "Pfft, it's only Hermione, she knows how to take a joke. And she's a girl, s'not like it's fun to hang out with her or anything. She doesn't like Quidditch, she thinks playing wizards chess is barbaric, and none of the games she has move. Boring. I mean, you see it, right mate?"
"Actually, I don't. She's quieter than you, sure, but you grew up in a house with nine other people in it, you HAVE to be loud. She does like to fly but not race or do tricks, those games that don't move, I grew up knowing what they are too even if I never got to play them. She's incredibly smart and is great at teaching what she knows. Professor Snape offered introductory potions skills lessons with the help he's giving me after dinner every night and he said you could come. But he didn't think you would."
Ron's face took on an expression not unlike a baby whose nappy was full. "You mean you want to spend MORE time with the dungeon bat? Have you gone completely bloody MENTAL?"
"Gone mental about what? Hermione interrupted, setting a plate of flaked fish mixed with what looked like spinach leaves down for Crookshanks. The happy kneazle pounced on his meal, daring it to escape his mighty wrath…er…hunger.
"About Snape! He's nothing but a greasy git! Why would I want to spend my free time with him! Why would Harry? What did you do to him, huh? Did you cast some sorta spell on those memories he's been watching? Somethin' to make him like you more?"
"Ronald, I would never! How dare you! And Professor Snape said he was wrong about Harry…"
"Ohhh, wrong about Harry. It's about time he said he was wrong about something. I should march down there and…" A hand dropped onto Ron's shoulder and he swallowed the half masticated mouthful he'd been showering the other two with. Painfully, from the sounds of things.
"You should do what, precisely, Mr Weasley? Dazzle me with your witty repertoire? Stun me with your wondrous wand work? Perhaps banish me to sleep with you budding brewing skills? More likely it would be to bury me in the remains of your meal which you have sprayed across the table in your quest to consume one of everything before you." Snape nodded to the other two.
"I had the free time if not the inclination this morning to assist Potter and Miss Granger, this will take the place of 'spending time in the dungeons' this evening. Against my better judgement Mr Weasley, I am extending that privilege to you. It would behoove you to accept."
With that, Snape headed to his seat at the head table, his robes still billowing behind his as if they were caught in a breeze.
"I have got to learn how he does that," Harry muttered under his breath. Hermione must have heard him because she stifled a laugh. Unfortunately, the redheaded menace thought her laugh was directed at him.
"Oi, what are you laughing at, know-it-all? It's not like you get away with anything in his class. I bet it's the only one you don't have an O in. That must drive you crazy, no matter what you do, you won't get the same grades as a slimy snake."
"Watch it, Ron. She wasn't laughing at you, she was laughing at me. And I asked you to lay off with the know-it-all shit. From what I hear your potions grade isn't that great. Maybe you should suck it up and come with us."
Ron threw his cutlery down and stood. "Mental, the both of you. Why the bloody hell should I? Why don't either of you get that we are on holiday? H-O-L-I-D-A-Y. That means no homework. No 'light reading'. Just exploring, flying, snowball fights, and hot chocolate. I'll be in the common room when you guys get your heads on straight."
"Harry, maybe you should spend some time with Ron today. Just the two of you," Hermione worried at her bottom lip.
"Nope. I had you penciled in until at least after dinner, so you, Miss Granger, are stuck with me. Now that we can eat without being shown what our lunch looks like before it's digested, tell me more about how we convinced you to make…what was it, polyjuice potion, in our second year and how you ended up as a cat-girl. Isn't that a sixth year potion?"
Dumbledore watched from the head table as the youngest Weasley boy stomped away from his friends. Rather then run after the boy as he would have before the accident, Harry remained seated, even scratched Miss Granger's pet behind the ears, before continuing a conversation with her. Poppy had warned him the boy's personality had changed. He'd become more serious and Severus had confirmed this in his potions lesson with the boy and Miss Granger. It seemed the meeting with the Weasley family affected the boy more significantly than he first thought. It beared more watching.