Chapter 12: Portentous Potions
Harry trooped up to the headmaster's office behind Professor Sprout. She had been much more open to him this time around, making him feel welcome. They talked about her class, him sheepishly admitting he wouldn't be taking it. She had chuckled before commenting that she had peeked at his OWLs and figured as much. They arrived at the gargoyle, and Harry wasn't exactly surprised when the password turned out to be Aniseed Twists. Of course it was a sweet.
Riding the revolving spiral staircase up, Harry was struck by how similar this all felt. Maybe he shouldn't be surprised, but it was an overwhelming rush of deja vu despite following Sprout instead of McGonagall. As they entered, Fawkes cried out, soothing Dumbledore and Sprout, but Harry understood it was empathy for his return. The phoenix flew from his perch, gliding over to settle on Harry's shoulder.
"Hello, Fawkes." Harry smiled as he reached up to gently run his fingers through the feathers on the phoenix's chest. They were warm to the touch, and the undercoat was nearly too hot to continue petting the bird without pain. Sprout eyed him with a raised eyebrow, but a small smile.
"If you have anything else you need to get to tonight, I'm sure I can show Mr. Black down to the Sett. He's not in any trouble, but given some of his scores on his OWLs, I'm actually prepared to offer him additional, more advanced instruction." Dumbledore also eyed Fawkes' interaction with the young man. Professor Sprout's second eyebrow joined her first, before she nodded.
"I would like to talk to my first years before they head to bed, so If that's alright, Mr. Black?" She looked to Harry for his acceptance, and at his nod she left with a pat on his unoccupied shoulder. Harry approached the expansive desk the headmaster was sat behind, settling himself into one of the gauche chairs that Dumbledore favored - ornate, excessively decorative things that ultimately were more uncomfortable than the basic wood chairs present in the classrooms. He assumed it was part of the crafty old man's intention to make the disobedient children and whiney pureblood parents squirm in front of him. He pulled his wand and with a flick, added a substantial amount of padding to the chair back, Dumbledore chuckling at the action.
"Please return my chair to normal when you leave, Harry." Dumbledore sat back in his golden throne of a chair, Harry assumed it was much more comfortable than his had been. "I've made some progress on finding the horcruxes. At least, I know more of Tom's past, and was finally able to link him to his parents. He was aware of the connection, and as such their now-abandoned estates are potential locations for the phylacteries, or at the very least, more clues." Dumbledore stood, and retrieved his pensieve.
"Sir, we already knew that his father was a Riddle - I was tied to his merlin be-damned headstone!" Harry was a bit exasperated at the man. Did he waste the summer backtracking over what Harry had already known?
"Of course, and I did poke around the now-abandoned Riddle manor. There was nothing there besides the muggle caretaker. Nothing magical, at least. I did find a pile of Prussian gold behind a false door in the cellar." Dumbledore retrieved a couple bottled memories, pouring them out into the pensieve.
"But what was much more important was his mother, a squib from the Gaunt line, who raped his muggle father with continuous potioning." Dumbledore grimaced, finding the whole subject distasteful. "These memories are from Bob Ogden, who is in ill health and will likely pass away soon - but he was the last magical to interact with Merope from outside the family."
Harry stood and approached, Fawkes flying back to his perch. The two descended into the memories before them.
"Well that whole family was fucked." Harry sat back in his chair. Dumbledore frowned at him for his language, but just sighed as Harry rolled his eyes at the silent censure. "Don't give me that look, professor, you know it's true." Harry smirked at the headmaster.
"Yes, but you needn't be so crude about it." Dumbledore moved on. "Now I think the next step is investigating the Gaunt shack, however I have been unable to find it. Or I should say, I know where it is, but the wards resist all attempts to break them. I think they need a Parseltongue's touch, so that will need to wait until you both have a fair grounding in ward breaking and are more comfortable working with Parselmagick." Harry sagged into the seat at Dumbledore's words, frustrated at the lack of progress.
"And that's an excellent segue to our next topic - your continued education. I will be setting aside Wednesday evenings for me to teach you a variety of more niche magic that is specific to countering Tom's preferred curses and detecting black magic. Further, Filius has agreed to spend Tuesday and Friday mornings before breakfast with you working on general dueling skills. You will probably need to compete in this summer's junior circuit in order to justify it, but after talking to Amelia, he's quite excited." Dumbledore sat back in his chair, crossing his hands over his lap. "And I assume that young miss Tonks may be joining? Filius seemed amenable to that, so long as she put in the effort. But that's everything I have for you, Harry. We should head down to the Sett, and introduce you to your new house." He stood with a smile, and as Harry came to his feet, a massive sledgehammer smashed against his Occlumency shields, cracking them clean in two and invading his outermost thoughts - which were mostly panic. Dumbledore retreated, and as he walked past, handed Harry a pain relief potion for the splitting headache.
"I'm sorry Mr. Potter, but I'll be testing you when you least expect it." Harry quaffed the potion with a glare at the man, but followed him out of the office.
Harry crawled through the massive barrel, a secret knock having let him through. Dumbledore had turned away with a twinkle in his eye and a smile as the lid slid back into place, and Harry took in the Badger's Sett. It was, in one word, cozy. Warm wood tones and low curved ceilings opened to a main room topped with what appeared to be another greenhouse, plants ringing the skylight. Harry slowly walked over to where Dora was sitting on an oversized, overstuffed couch. Harry sat next to her, and she gave him a brilliant smile with sleepy eyes as she shifted to lean against his chest. The two relaxed, comfortable as Harry's arm came to rest around her shoulders, their eyes falling closed and enjoying the moment.
Pomona Sprout descended the girl's dorm stairs, finding herself smiling as she took in the two sixth years. They were already adorable together, and it was good to see young Tonks had found someone she could truly relax with. She walked up to stand before them, and as they continued to ignore her presence, she smirked, before placing her hands on her hips and smothering her amusement to force a small frown onto her face, before clearing her throat to gain their attention.
Harry's eyes snapped open, and he blushed deeply at being caught out by his new head of house, though he did manage to keep his hair under control. Dora just snuggled closer in, and it took a couple elbows to get her to sit up, her glare at him for forcing her to move dissolving as she realized Professor Sprout stood before them.
"Mr. Black, I just finished explaining everything to our first year girls, if you'd follow me, I'll give you the same spiel with the first year boys, and then introduce you to your housemates." She let her frown fall back into the small smile she was trying to suppress. "And Miss Tonks, you look rather tired, maybe you should make your way up to your dormitory." Dora stood, sleepily stretched, before pressing a kiss to Harry's cheek.
"I'll see you in the morning Harry, wait in the common room for me?" She smiled at his nod, before slowly walking up to her bed. Harry watched her walk away before giving his new head of house his full attention.
"She needs someone she can relax around, Mr. Black. I hope you won't take advantage of that." Professor Sprout said softly, watching her walk away. She turned to Harry, who nodded, before leading him up the boy's stairs.
Harry had just walked out of DADA. Dora was next to him, and he couldn't help but feel like the class was a waste. They would be focusing on silent casting, something he had grasped early that summer. It was a shame, he was good at it, but if he wouldn't be learning anything, it would quickly slide down his list of priorities. Dora came up alongside him, excited about the class.
"I think I managed it towards the end there! I think I didn't whisper at all." Harry gave her a smile. "Of course, you were throwing around silent hexes from the beginning." She pouted at him and Harry smirked. "Can you help me with it?" Harry nodded and took her hand in his as they made their way down the main stairs to head to potions.
Potions. Harry was dreading this, given he had taken Sirius's last name, even if they were claiming to be from Marius. He was sure Snape would hold a grudge against the whole Black family. They stepped into the dungeon corridor, walking towards the knot of students standing outside the door to the classroom, when a Slytherin separated themselves from the group and made his way over to them, followed by a couple of his housemates.
"Oi shiftslut! How'd you get this one's attention? Change into the entire Harpies lineup last night?" Dora's wand came up, her eyes blazing, but Harry caught her wrist.
"Professor Snape is around the corner, waiting for you to rise to the bait." Harry stopped her with a whisper, gave her a small kiss on the forehead, before walking towards the Slytherin, who was unnerved by the action, especially so given Harry's slightly manic smile. Harry stopped before him, before holding his hand out to shake. The boy hesitated, before clasping hands with a confused look on his face.
"Hadrian Black. I'm sure I could let Arcturus know that…" He looked over the boy. "Whoever you are has been insulting members of the house of Black and call your family's debts due." The boy's face paled rapidly, and he backed away, stumbling over his robe and falling on his ass.
Snape chose that moment to sweep in, casting a disgusted look at the boy on the floor and a frustrated one at Hadrian, who had clasped his hands behind his back.
"Good morning Professor." He acknowledged the man in the most forgettable way possible. The man's sneer grew, but he did not speak, instead walking through the knot of students as they parted like the red sea before him, opening the door to his classroom. Harry followed behind him, a small smile plastered on his face as he chose to sit at the front of the class, setting his bag down. Dora quietly took the place next to him, questions flying past behind her eyes at a hundred miles an hour. After everyone had settled into their places, Snape flicked his wand, causing the door to slam shut in the face of a few late arrivals.
"This is the beginning of NEWT potions. I only accept the most talented brewers, although some here may find the pace of the class still too rapid for their feeble minds to keep up with." His eyes drifted over all the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. "I will not be holding your hand or slowing down for anyone struggling. If you receive three failing grades in a row, I will drop you from the course." His eyes settled on Harry, and his sneer shifted into a feral, predatory smile at that, before he schooled his expression.
"Instructions are on the board. You have until the end of class to reach stage nine. Begin." With another flick of his wand, the board was covered in impossibly small chalk writing. Harry began preparing his station, placing ingredients to the side of the workspace in individual bowls, in the required order. He placed his various knives and stirrers to the other side, before wiping down the interior of his cauldron with a sterilizing agent. He had learned from Aunt Andromeda just how important preparation was to potions, and that it was less like cooking, where the amount of each ingredient was often to preference, and more like chemistry, requiring exact measurements and timing, as the whole brewing process was effectively a ritual arithmantically.
Snape walked over to his desk, and watched him prepare. "Why have you not begun brewing yet, Black?" The man ground out, despite knowing this was proper. He stood inches from Harry, trying to tower over him but failing due to Harry's growth spurt over the summer.
"I needed to prepare my workspace, Professor." Harry kept his face impassive despite the loathing he felt for the man. His improving occlumency was a huge boon to holding back his emotions. He lowered his voice. "Professor, I've been informed by some of my relations that you may harbor ill will against me for my house. I am from the line of Marius Black, and neither I nor my father have ever met the man you are angry with." Harry tried to get that out before the man exploded, a vein throbbing in his forehead and face turning purple at Harry's direct acknowledgement of the unofficial feud.
"I enjoy potions and hope to learn from a master of the craft. But if you insist on an adversarial relationship, I will request a private tutor for myself and Miss Tonks from Granduncle Arcturus." Harry hated playing this role, but getting Snape off his back for two years would be worth it. The man would get what he deserved, in time.
At the mention of the head of house Black, Snape paused, and schooled himself despite still seething internally, unable to get over his hate. He retreated from Black's desk, and sat at his own, silent for the remainder of the class period, thinking. As it came time for students to apply stasis charms and go to their next class, he stood.
"Everyone should apply a stasis charm on their cauldron at this time. If you are unable to cast a stasis charm, you will fail this potion and I recommend you learn it before we start the next potion. Do not bother showing up to the next period, and I expect a supplementary 16 inch essay on the usage of the stasis charm in Potion brewing." Snape was back to his silky voice that promised pain to anyone who did not follow his instructions. A gryffindor girl burst out sobbing and ran from the room. Snape watched as everyone else cast the charm, taking note of a couple that did not seem like they would hold the three days until the next time the class would meet, silently reinforcing the Slytherin's. They all filed out, and he met the eyes of Black one last time. They shared a nod, but something twigged in the back of Snape's brain. Something familiar.
A/N:
This is my first story on FFN! I have some more works on AO3, if you're interested. I'll post a chapter a day here on FFN until I am caught up with AO3, at which time I'll be posting weekly!
Please comment with any questions, constructive criticisms, or recommendations! If you want early access or to chime in on oneshot polls, please see my linktree: /anarettekors