Chapter 6: Settling in
Disclaimer: I obviously don't own the idea of Harry Potter or any of the money-making forms of it.
Summary: AU. An AU story of a different Harry Potter's life in a world where he doesn't hold the burden of being the BWL. Neville is the BWL.
A/N: There will be differences to canon in character backstory, family trees, some OOC characters, etc. Magical lore has been inspired by other fics and my own ideas, e.g. potions in rigel black chronicles.
This work has been inspired in some areas by stories such as Holly Potter and the Statues of Stone by xOreoKeKz
Some passages and lines have been taken directly from Harry Potter and the Philosphers stone and is JK Rowling's work
Harry took the hat off and gave it to a somewhat surprised-looking McGonagall. He headed toward the cheering table with blue ties and sat next to the other first-years. Looking up at the head table Harry met a glaring Snape's eyes and smiled, Snape's eye twitched. The poor guy must be very disappointed that Harry wasn't sorted into his house.
The rest of the sorting continued similarly, Dean was sorted into Gryffindor alongside Seamus and finally, Blaise Zabini was sorted into Slytherin concluding the ceremony. The headmaster seemed even more eccentric than Harry had heard, with his bright clothing and odd welcoming speech, what on earth did 'Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!' mean. Whatever it meant it seemed to cue the magical transportation of the most mouthwatering feast Harry had ever seen. Countless dishes of various meats, potatoes, and roast vegetables appeared on each table to Harry's shock. The house elves were amazing chefs, his dad found the kitchens in his third year and wrote all about the helpful beings and their desire to feed every student who found the kitchens. Being at Hogwarts and seeing the things his parents would write about for seven years helped Harry feel closer to them than he ever had before.
Whilst everyone stuffed their faces with the delicious feast, the first years introduced themselves. There were twelve first-year Ravenclaws, and they all seemed quite nice and respectful so far. It was quite a diverse group in terms of magical and ethnic heritage, with a mix of muggle-borns, pure-bloods and half-bloods, and families originating in various countries. Sue Li and her family were all born in China and immigrated to Britain soon after Voldemort's defeat, and Padma Patil's family moved from India to Britain two generations ago. Harry had noticed a difference between the magical and non-magical ties to a person or family's country of origin. Despite the Potter's immigrating from Greece so long ago, the family had a lot of connection to its roots in terms of heirlooms, language and even looks. Harry and most members of his family shared dark hair and olive skin despite marrying many with other features, Harry theorised it must have something to do with the family magic. The other Ravenclaws with long magical heritages all seemed to know where their family originated too, Harry quite liked this magical tradition and could tell Lisa Turpin, Mandy Brocklehurst who were muggle-borns and Michael Corner who had two muggle-born parents were interested in the cultural difference as well. The group were interested in how Harry and Michael grew up a part of two worlds, living in the non-magical world, with muggle friends and in muggle school but with the knowledge of magic and visiting the magical world every so often.
As one might suspect at the Ravenclaw table, the conversation soon moved to classes and academics. Everyone was excited to learn magic, as almost no one had done any actual magic. There were varying passions amongst the group and people were looking forward to different subjects more than others. Hogwarts was well known for having some of the most talented practitioners in their field in the world as professors and they were excited to learn from them.
Eventually, the dishes disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore's voice echoed throughout the hall.
"Ahem - I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. I'd like to welcome Professor Quirrel back from his sabbatical, he will be taking over the defence against the dark arts class." An awkward smattering of applause ringing out at that news. "All students should be reminded that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."
Harry's eyes widened at the last announcement and looked around at his year-mates who seemed to be in similar states. The way Dumbledore was talking in a genial tone, Harry certainly wasn't expecting that. It was a bit of an odd way to announce it and it made Harry very curious.
"Now bedtime. Off you trot!"
"Alright firsties, I'm Penelope Clearwater and this is Ambrose Rookwood, we're fifth-year prefects and you can come to us with any of your problems," said a kind looking girl wearing a silver P shaped badge.
"Now follow us and listen up, we'll point stuff out on the way," added the aforementioned Ambrose Rookwood.
The Ravenclaw first years followed Penelope and Ambrose through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. "As you can see there are thousands of magical portraits along the walls, and if you're ever lost most of them are pretty helpful," continued Ambrose. Harry had never really seen magical portraits before, the Potter family didn't have any made of its members. At first Harry had been disappointed there were none made of his dad and grandparents when he heard about them, but Al explained that they were very poor substitutes for real people. There are certain rituals and conditions that go into the making of the portrait and in the end they are more like caricatures of a personality than the real person.
"Hogwarts was originally made with the intention of keeping out intruders before it was transformed into a school. Therefore, it was partially designed to be confusing, for example the staircases are enchanted to move based on the intention of the user, if you know where you're going and wish it so the staircase will accommodate you. If not, you'll end up at a random connection," said Penelope as they reached one of the moving staircases.
"There are hundreds, maybe thousands of secret tunnels, exits, and passages made in magically expanded space that can jump floors and do all sorts of things and they only work if you meet a specific set of conditions. The condition could be anything from a basic password, to knocking a specific stone, to firing the aguamenti charm on a stretch of wall but only on Thursdays," Ambrose lectured with far-away eyes.
Harry was amazed by the castle and all its features, reading and experiencing it were two vastly different things. The complex runic matrices and enchanting that must go into creating intent based staircases, or hidden passages that only open to a specific spell, Harry vowed to be able to do that one day.
Finally they arrived at an eagle shaped knocker protruding from the wall and Penelope turned toward them. "This is the entrance to Ravenclaw tower, to enter you must either speak the password or answer a question. Rowena Ravenclaw enchanted is said to have enchanted it herself, somehow the questions are tailored to the specific person, and are generally very challenging but also achievable. Don't ask me how on earth she managed to enchant something like that. So if you're in a rush or not in the mood you can just speak the password, but if you're up for a challenge or want to learn some trivia you can ask the knocker for a question," Penelope explained.
Ambrose chimed in by adding, "This means that Ravenclaw tower is quite unique in that it's open for any student capable of answering a challenging question. Although they also can't have the intent not to harm any resident of the tower."
"It's a bit of a tradition for the new Ravenclaws to receive a group trivia question to enter the tower for the first time, so let's give it a try. May we please have a question, eagle?" Penelope asked.
The eagle knocker opened its mouth and said in a monotonous voice, "If you have me, you will want to share me, if you share me, you will no longer have me. What am I?"
Ambrose and Penelope looked expectantly at the group of first years who were all in deep thought before Sue Li hesitantly piped up with "A secret?"
"That is correct," the eagle said, as a large door formed around it and it swung inwards revealing the common room. It was an amazing sight, a humongous circular room seemingly divided into different areas. In one direction there were comfy looking chairs and couches spread in front of an elegant fireplace, some of the older students were curled up chatting with their friends. There was an area with long tables that could probably be for study groups and the likes but looked to be hosting a large game of poker right now. In typical Ravenclaw fashion there were even a couple bookcases with beanbags spread around them.
Penelope and Ambrose led them toward the middle of the room where a very small man who looked to be in his 40's was standing waiting for them with a wide grin. "Hi everyone, I'm Professor Flitwick, your charms professor and your head of house," the bouncing man enthusiastically introduced himself.
"My office and quarters are just through here," he said gesturing to a portrait near the entrance of the common room. "Just ask the lovely lady in the painting to see me and I'll be alerted. Don't be afraid to ask for me at any time, I'm always available if you're in need. Of course the prefects of the castle and especially our Ravenclaw prefects will assist you however they can, you've already met our wonderful fifth year prefects, and the sixth and seventh years will be showing you to your fist classes when they are available," he smiled at the first years warmly.
"Now, as you probably know Ravenclaw is known as the house for intelligent people, and while I would love for you all to top your classes, it really isn't my main focus. I want you all to try your best in classes, but Ravenclaw's have a tendency to sometimes be consumed by studying for classes and beating other people. That's why I stress a focus on balance; spending time with friends and relaxing when you need to. If you look around the common room, we've got areas to relax, to study in a group setting, to play games and probably my favourite is the fiction books and bean bag section. Now off you go to bed, your names will be on the door, boys up the right staircase and girls up the left," he finished.
The first year boys all stumbled up the stairs; tired and full, they entered a door off the first landing reserved for the first year wing. There were 7 rooms, 6 with one of the boys' names on the door and a communal bathroom. The boys muttered good nights to each other as they entered their respective rooms.
The next morning Harry and the rest of the first-year Ravenclaws were guided by Ambrose and Penelope to the Great Hall for breakfast. Breakfast was nearing an end when the chattering on some of the tables grew louder, some students were groaning and muttering angrily, whilst others seemed excited as they read the parchment their head of houses were handing out, "Must be the timetables," Anthony Goldstein spoke.
Professor Flitwick approached the front of the Ravenclaw table nearest to the head table, and where the first-years sat. He was levitating a large stack of timetables next to him; coming to a stop he flicked his wand and the timetable's soared into the air, a single sheet coming to rest perfectly in front of each student sat on the Ravenclaw table. While the first-year Ravenclaw time tables would all be the same, third-year and above would each have individualised timetables and Harry's even had his name labeled on top of the sheet. Harry was awestruck by the professor's magical control and ability, none of the other heads had done that, but Professor Flitwick was the charms professor for a reason. The other first-years seemed similarly impressed and Harry could even see students in other house's looking admiringly at Professor Flitwick.
The cohort studied their timetable together, they seemed to have quite a lot of free time in between and after classes, but Harry figured as the years went on and more classes were added, and everything grew in difficulty there would be far less free time. Harry didn't mind the free time, he was keen to explore the castle and work on his non-class projects. Their first day of classes was transfiguration followed by history and finally herbology. The spells Al had taught Harry were mostly charms with a few jinxes thrown in, and Harry knew transfiguration was his father's speciality so he was really excited for Professor Mcgonnagal's class.
One of the sixth year prefects, a George Fortescue who had proudly told them his Grandpa was Florean Fortescue the owner of the delicious ice-cream shop in Diagon Alley, led them to the transfiguration classroom on the sixth floor. Harry guessed that McGonagall and Flitwick must both have classrooms reasonably close to their house and their own private quarters, George had pointed out the corridor that led to the charms classroom also on the sixth floor.
They entered the classroom and found it mostly empty, a Gryffindor girl with big Bushy hair was seated at the front centre desk, and peculiarly a grey, tabby cat was sat on the teacher's desk scrutinising the new arrivals. Harry winked at the cat, who glared at him in response, as he sat down near the front with Michael Corner, who Harry had gotten on well with since the sorting ceremony. Both his parent's journals had described McGonagall as a cat animagus, and was one of the reasons his dad read up on and wished to become an animagus in the first place. Becoming an animagus seemed incredible, and one benefit being that a werewolf cannot infect a transformed animagi fast tracked his dad's ambition. Most of the Hufflepuffs, Slytherins and Gryffindors filtered in not long after, Harry waving over Dean and Seamus to sit near them and introducing them to Michael. After talking amongst each other for a while, the class became a bit curious as to where the professor was, when Longbottom and Ron Weasley, who Harry recognised from the sorting, stumbled into the room, clearly having been lost on the way.
"Merlin! Can you imagine the look on McGonagall's face if we were late," Weasley loudly said.
In response, the cat pounced off the desk toward the two boys, morphing seamlessly in mid air into a stern Professor Mcgonnagal stalking toward the boys. "Best find your seats, class is starting and you are very nearly late," she punctuated.
The boys seemed a bit cowed by her sternness but that didn't stop Weasley blurting out "Bloody brilliant professor!" When his brain caught up to witnessing a cat turn into a human. The whole class seemed to agree with him, all in awe of the transformation and Harry thought the professor's stern exterior looked a bit smug for a moment.
"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn here at Hogwarts. Any messing around in my class whatsoever and you will be kicked out. You will never attempt to transfigure a human without my direct say so which I assure you will not occur for a number of years, if at all. You have been warned," she finished glaring around the room.
A small smile brightened her face as she continued, "That being said, transfiguration is a wonderful and extremely versatile branch of magic, which I hope you will each grow to love. Most teachers, myself included, have a number of assistant's who receive help studying for their mastery's at Hogwarts and help supervise during practical lessons and assist me in grading essays."
The bushy haired Gryffindor was scratching away with her quill the whole time, seemingly copying word for word as the professor explained the classes rules and general format. Harry broke out his designated transfiguration notebook when the professor started lecturing on the spell they would be learning today; the matchstick to needle transformation. It was supposed to be an easy starting transformation, they were transfiguring inanimate objects of a similar shape and size.
"It would be impossible and straight inconvenient to learn different spells that transfigure a specific object into a different specific object and likewise for animals and people. Therefore, the spells you will generally learn here will be far broader, for example turning an inanimate object into a non-magical animal. However, it is possible to design spells that only perform a very specific transformation, and they will generally be easier to master than the broader spell, although far less versatile. Today, as we are performing our first transfiguration, we will be employing one such spell that can only be used to transfigure matches into needles. The incantation is 'Acusignis'," McGonagall lectured.
Harry had read his transfiguration book before arriving at school and already knew the gist of the idea but the professor was a great teacher so far and definitely broadened his understanding.
The assistant professors then entered the room and after an introduction, they began wandering the tables and correcting students' pronunciation of the spell. Finally, when she was satisfied they could all pronounce the incantation, the professor's floated a couple match sticks in front of each person and allowed them to begin trying. Harry tried the first few times in a similar way to which he achieved success with the spells Al taught him. He tried to focus on directing his magic out his body, speaking the incantation and thinking about the desired effect. Harry hadn't managed to change anything at all and was getting a bit frustrated, but looking around his friends hadn't achieved any change either and neither had anyone else in his vicinity.
Harry took a deep breath, recentering and changing his thinking, just like his Uncle Vernon taught him to do when something wasn't working. Transfiguration was a very different branch of magic compared to charms and the jinxes he had performed, of course it would be different. This time he directed his magic, tapped the matchstick, and said the incantation, all the while focusing on the mental image of wood turning to metal, thinning out and having a pointy tip. Harry was happy to see the matchstick looked like a small, misshapen metal stick and after touching it, it even felt metallic.
McGonagall who was nearby was drawn by Michaels cheer and approached. "Very good, Potter. You've completed the hardest part of the transformation, maintain your focus and try to complete the whole transfiguration this time," she said while tapping the matchstick-needle-hybrid and silently turning it back to its original state.
Taking another deep breath Harry repeated the process, the matchstick slowly morphed into a metal all the while shifting its shape into a thin pointy object, rewarding Harry with a perfectly normal looking needle. A grinning Harry turned to a pleased McGonagall, "Fantastic! Five points to Ravenclaw Potter, as talented as your father was. Help your friends, and keep working on yours, trying to speed up the transformation process," she said before walking away to help other students.
Harry spent the rest of the long class in high spirits, helping his friends by telling them about his process and making suggestions whilst working on his spell. By the end of the long period, Harry had sped up his Acusignis transformation a lot, however it was still nowhere near the professor's instantaneous transfigurations. Harry had helped Dean, Michael and Padma manage solid partial transfigurations of their own, whilst some of his other friends had barely, if at all managed to change their matchsticks. Harry was actually the quickest in his year to manage the full transformation and only the bushy haired Gryffindor girl, now known as Hermione Granger and a Slytherin boy named Theordore Nott followed his success. The professor wasn't discouraged that a lot of people made little to no change in their transfiguration; and explained that every wixen progresses at different rates and early success or failure didn't necessarily indicate talent levels in that branch, some performing better in different fields of magic and even sub branches of those fields.
Harry was in high spirits as he left transfiguration and was guided to History, chatting to his friends the whole time. Professor Binns was the history professor, and Harry hadn't heard the most flattering things about him. Supposedly, he was a great teacher when alive, knowledgeable and captivating, and while in death, he was still a knowledgeable teacher, his voice was monotonous and dull. Nevertheless, it was the first day and Harry while it wasn't his first priority, Harry wanted to do well in school. Not to mention this was magical history, the content was surely interesting. Harry reached into his extendable book bag and grabbed his History notebook, fighting the dull voice and writing notes about the first recorded wixen in britain. It certainly wasn't as exciting as transfiguration to Harry, but he seemed to find it more interesting than a lot of his classmates, many falling asleep or talking to friends.
After lunch was herbology, taught by the kind Professor Sprout and occurred outside in the green houses. They were touring Green House number 1 today which contained less dangerous flora, and would be their classroom for the majority of the next few years. Despite containing less dangerous species, the tour showed off numerous interesting plants, with different magical effects and properties. Neville Longbottom stood out as knowledgeable on the topic, explaining when prompted by the professor that his family has a green house that he spent a lot of time in, growing up. Harry liked the class, often contemplating the potions the plant's materials were used in and the effects their properties had in the potions.
The end of Herbology marked the end of the school day for the first years and they were left to their own devices for the rest of the day. The Ravenclaw first years had a blast in the games section of the common room, playing games of wizard's chess, gobstones and trying out all manner of magical board games. Harry and some of the other muggle-raised kids had never played magical games before and loved the new experience after their new friends taught them how to play. Harry was now planning to buy some of the games that didn't require magic and maybe he could play them with the family over Christmas.
Soon enough dinner came and went. Harry retreated to the reading area, curling up on a bean bag and reading about his grandma's life.
The one shock that night was when Harry had left the showers with a towel on his waist and Michael, who had just entered the bathroom, saw his naked torso, let out a high-pitched scream and promptly fell over. Harry responded by laughing so hard that he ended up joining Michael on the floor. The rest of his male classmates had peaked out their shower doors and been almost as shocked as Michael, but thankfully refrained from screaming. When he recovered, Harry explained about the attack on his family and how he had been cursed and wouldn't have survived if not for his dad and some mysterious healer's intervention, leaving him with the nasty scar. They had all been very sympathetic about it and expressed their admiration for his parents' efforts in the war.
Despite the scar being a big ugly thing, Harry generally forgot all about it, but it did come up every now and then, which was pretty much unavoidable during things like swimming lessons and pool parties growing up. Harry had never been ashamed of his scar, it was a reminder that he had lost his parents as caregivers, but it was also a reminder of how much they loved him and how they fought for what they believed in.
It was a bit hard to explain what happened to him and his parents to muggles, as his aunt and uncle didn't want to make up some car accident as they felt it would diminish the sacrifice his parents made. They had essentially stuck to the truth in that his dad was a special agent who made dangerous enemies, and that they attacked his family, killing his dad, torturing his mum until she was a shell of herself and severely injuring Harry before they were taken down. The neighbourhood were all horrified and Harry would often receive comments about how he would be making his parents proud which would always make him beam and feel warm inside.
It was Friday and nearing the end of the week, but Harry was excited, he had been anticipating potions class with Professor Snape for years. Harry had heard about the professor's scary and strict demeanor in class, but it was hard for Harry to be scared of the man when he had read all about Sev, his mum's best friend and the shenanigans they used to get up to. Harry had pretty much always been like that around Sev, finding it amusing when he cursed and called Harry a pig-headed dunderhead with the brains of a flobber worm or something to that effect. But Harry also knew that Sev was in a very dangerous position and was expected to act a certain way. His mum and even his dad had written in their journals about Sev letting his ambitions lead him to Voldemort, but also how he turned around and spied on Voldemort. It seemed horribly complicated to Harry, Voldemort wanted him to spy on Dumbledore so he had to pretend to spy for Dumbledore but he was really just on Dumbeldore and his parent's side. Al had never hidden it from Harry and the Dursley's, once Harry could understand at least that Voldemort disappeared under mysterious circumstances, Al and other powerful people believed he would be back. Although they had never talked about it, Harry knew this meant that Sev would have to keep his cover and would be expected to act in a certain way to keep in the good graces of Voldemort and his followers.
The last few days had been pretty great. Charms was excellent, Flitwick was an enthusiastic and captivating teacher that seemed to love his job endlessly. In the first class, he taught the lumos charm; Harry and a lot of other magical raised students had already performed the spell but they were still kept entertained by learning to control the strength of the light and other factors. It was a great lesson and the whole year was able to cast the spell proficiently by the time the first class ended.
DADA was pretty cool, Professor Quirrel seemed to really know his subject but they had yet to have a practical lesson unlike the other wanded subjects. Unfortunately, Quirrel had a nervous stutter which would sometimes act up and make it hard to understand what he was saying, but it was mostly fine and his lecture on the different kinds of defensive skills they would learn at Hogwarts was very interesting.
Astronomy was quite fascinating, the night sky looked amazing from the top of the astronomy tower, and the view of the planets, stars and moons were unbelievable through the top of the line magically enhanced telescopes the school had purchased for classes.
Michael and Anthony were essentially holding him back as he threatened to break out into a sprint in his haste to arrive in the potions classroom. Harry had mentioned his love of potions and that he had been brewing for a couple years on the first night and his friends had noticed him getting more excited as they neared Friday morning. The classroom was a massive potions lab, with a big blackboard at the front, hundreds of ingredients shelved on the walls and cauldrons set up on every desk.
After Harry had been bouncing in his seat for 15 minutes, all the students had arrived and a boom signified Sev's entrance. Sev had slammed the door shut as he brushed through the students desks, robe billowing behind him like Batman's cape until he reached the blackboard turning around to face the class with a swish of his robes and glaring at all of them. When the man's glare reached Harry, he thought he saw the poor guy's eye twitch. He should probably mention that to Sev, maybe he's in need of medical attention, his eye seemed to be doing that a lot lately.
Severus was not in a good mood, if it was not for his job as a spy he would never have become a teacher in the first place. He could almost imagine the joys of a solitary life of making potions for St Mungo's or private clients and using that money to create experimental potions and craft his own spells like he did during the Summer holidays. Maybe he would have even taken the odd mastery pupil who actually had an iota of talent. Unfortunately, here he was on a Friday morning teaching dunder-headed first-years how to make a boil cure potion.
Glaring out at the class he eventually met Potter's eyes and immediately felt his left eye twitch, the stupid brat looked to be holding back laughter. The last time his eye had done that the brat had smiled at him after his sorting and somehow the headmaster had caught the interaction if the stupid twinkling eyes that had looked at him were anything to go by.
Taking a deep breath he began his speech, "You are here to learn the subtle and exact science of potion-making." Pausing, he looked around and was satisfied to see they were all hanging on to his words. "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 soft 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, even stopper death - If you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
Severus had lost himself a bit in his speech, usually he was always in control but if he ever got on a roll about potions, spell crafting or the dark arts his passion could encompass him. Most of the students seemed enraptured by his speech and Potter was even beaming at him.
Sneering at the brat he decided to embarrass the brat. "Potter!" he said suddenly, hoping to jolt the brat but Potter's smile only widened. He prepared to let loose a barrage of questions, as if he were quizzing the brat in his mother's room in St Mungo's. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" A sixth year question and something he hadn't assigned for Potter to research yet. The rest of the cohort looked hopelessly lost and seemed to be futilely shrinking up to appear as less of a target for his questions.
"That would create a dangerous poison that is most well known for its role in the draught of living death, as the agent that shuts down bodily functions and plays a large part in providing the appearance of death," the boy answered almost effortlessly.
"Correct," he grimaced. Damn, the brat must have expected him to pull something like this and worked ahead of schedule, he sneered at Harry and decided to cut his losses. He was actually quite impressed by the boy, a state he reluctantly found himself in often. Harry was a hard worker and had a genuine talent for potions. Rounding on the next target he snapped, "Longbottom! Name one potion that contains bicorn horn?"
The muggle-born Granger's hand shot in the air, Longbottom looked lost, eventually glancing to his mate Weasley, like the stupid dunderhead would be of any help. As Longbottom dawdled around for an answer Granger had stretched her hand as high into the air as it could go, before finally standing up to get his attention. "I don't know, sir," Longbottom finally said.
"Tut, tut - Fame clearly isn't everything. For your information Longbottom, bicorn horns are a prominent ingredient in dozens of transformative potions, a well known such potion being the polyjuice potion," he lectured.
"And Granger! Sit down and unless you intend to hex yourself, lower your arm before I lower it for you," he snarled. "10 points from Gryffindor because Longbottom is too incompetent to answer the most basic of questions and because Granger is an insufferable dunderhead who treats my classroom like a circus," he added. Maybe he was being a bit harsh, but it would be noticed by certain parties how he treated the boy who lived, and well, Granger was being a nuisance.
Severus suffered through the rest of the class, lecturing the students about the boil cure potion. A very simple potion that like most of the potions brewed in the first couple years of Hogwarts, required no external magic from the brewer and wouldn't have a volatile reaction if brewed improperly unless someone failed to take the potion of the fire before they added porcupine quills, and that instruction was written in bold in their textbooks and had been mentioned by Severus himself.
The class seemed to be pretty average, most were incompetent but not more-so than normal, some had some talent, some including Longbottom had no talent for the art whatsoever. Potter was far ahead of the rest however, brewing effortlessly even helping his friends occasionally and Severs was pleasantly surprised to see he had tweaked the recipe from the textbook. The changes he had made would have been inspired by some of Severus and Lily's alterations on fourth and fifth year potions, but he had done a good job to tailor it to the boil-cure and it would result in a longer shelf life.
Suddenly, hissing and acid green smoke filled the dungeons, Longbottom had melted his cauldron and the volatile concoction was seeping across the floor. Longbottom had been drenched and was moaning in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs. "Idiot boy! I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?" Longbottom grimaced in answer, and boils started popping up all over his nose. "Take him to the hospital wing Weasley."
He decided he may as well use this to give the brat detention. He rounded on Harry who was at the station behind Longbottom's, "You - Potter - why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Two points from Ravenclaw and Detention with me tomorrow night, 8 o'clock."