I own nothing...
Alaric was an early riser, he had been one ever since he began his regular morning workouts to improve his physique. As his grandfather frequently said, only a strong body and a healthy mind could foster powerful magic.
Needless to say, he had conditioned himself to wake up early in the morning, and that remained true even though he had been quite tired the night before. He had entered the realm of Morpheus as soon as his head made contact with the plush pillow in his bed and woke up feeling more energized than he could perhaps ever remember being.
Stepping into the shower, he marveled at the perfect water. He had read in Hogwarts, A History that all of the taps within the castle adapted the temperature of the water according to the desire of the shower's occupant. How such a thing was achieved, Alaric did not know though he intended to one day find out.
Alaric did not take long to shower, he was too excited to do much of anything else even though he usually tended to enjoy long baths and quickly found himself back in the dormitory to grab his school bag enchanted with the standard bottomless and featherlight charms. Once it was in his possession, he swiftly made his way down into the common room which was illuminated by what he assumed was ever-present, almost ethereal turquoise grow coming from the lake outside.
Alaric took a moment to admire the view before taking a seat near, but not too near the fire in a large, comfortable armchair before he reached into his bag and took out his book, The Rise and Fall of The Dark Arts. He had not had the opportunity to read much of it before and was not particularly far into the book but he found the stories of dark lords to be rather interesting. Ironic though it may seem, it was almost akin to fiction brought to life.
He'd read a great deal of the book and paused only when he heard a cool voice speak from in front of him. "Eager to begin our education, are we?"
Recognizing the voice, Alaric decided caution was his best vice as he peered up from his book and met those bluish-silver eyes of the blond Head Boy that so had enchanted him the day before, "I've never been much of a late sleeper."
"You'll find that a habit like that will make you quite unique in this house," the older boy commented as he made his way towards him, glancing at the book that lay open in his lap. "History?
"I've always been interested in history."
"Have you?" He asked with a small smirk, raising a brow in amusement when the younger boy stuck out a tongue at the way his brow rose in skepticism, "Well, I suppose that interest of yours will be tested by our most esteemed history professor."
Alaric shook his head and frowned, "What's wrong with the history professor?"
"Aside from the fact that he's dead," The older boy stated said casually, causing Alaric's eyes to widen for a second, "Which sadly makes him painfully dull. He also does not pay attention to anything aside from the notes in his hand. Plenty of students sleep in his class and just read the textbook on their own time. He has never noticed any of them."
"I might have to look into that." Alaric paused for a moment and nodded thoughtfully, the history of this world had always interested him and he was sure he could perform well in class even without an instructor guiding him.
"You shouldn't imply plans to misbehave in front of a Head Boy."
"I think you'll keep my secret." Alaric looked up and playfully grinned, knowing full well that his tendency to instinctively read people could be somewhat disorienting for people used to jaded conversations.
"Do you now?" The older boy hummed thoughtfully before he straightened up, waving his wand to conjure a page of parchment on the table, "This is your class schedule, I hope your stay at Hogwarts turns out to be as interesting as you are,"
Alaric merely nodded in response, eyes following the Head Boy as the older boy turned around and made his way toward the senior dorms. It was a suspicious interaction considering there was no need for the Head Boy to personally distribute time-tables but he supposed that it was a decent enough start if the older boy was complimenting him.
It was a while later when the first few students began making their way down into the common room. Some second years were the first to arrive, followed by the girls from Alaric's year whom he recognized—Daphne and behind her was Tracy, who both made their way over towards him as soon as Tracy spotted him.
"Do you mind if I join you?" Tracy asked, causing Alaric to shake his head even as Daphne took the seat beside him without invitation.
"Ah," The blond girl spoke after eyeing his choice of reading material, "I think you would be the only Slytherin in our year interested in history."
"I don't expect most of them to be interested in much of anything," said Alaric, not looking up from his book even as both Tracy and Daphne giggled.
Nott was the next in the common room, followed by Lillian Moon, a small blonde girl who had seemed to keep mostly to herself. She was followed by Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle as they all made their way down together. Alaric noticed Malfoy shoot a quick glance towards them as he was putting away his book and catalogued that away.
"First years," came the voice of a fifth-year prefect whose name he had forgotten, flanked by her male counterpart. "We'll lead you to the Great Hall this morning. From here on out, you will be expected to make it to mealtimes on your own. Are we understood?"
They all nodded and followed the prefects up to the Great Hall. Alaric quickly made note of the route, thanking Merlin for his good memory. He would never have had a chance of remembering this maze without it. Not on the first day, anyway.
When they entered the hall, they were some of the first to do so. They all took seats at the far end of the table once more. The spot seemed to be designated for them. This time, alphabetical order was seemingly not necessary. He did notice that Malfoy, and by extension, Crabbe and Goyle took seats further up the table alongside the Macnair boy from the first night and his group of friends. They had clearly been beckoned over before making their move.
How interesting that on the surface, the only way to break out of the designation appeared to be by earning the favour of older students.
Made intentionally or not, it was a rather clever system— not only would it serve as a fair test of cunning for the first years, but it would easily let the upper years observe and evaluate them. Alaric smiled at the trap that had been laid out for them, amused at the thought of small children playing politics.
He knew he should eat something, so he piled a measly amount of fruit onto a small plate and pulled it in front of him before glancing at the time-table they had been given in their common rooms the night before by the Prefects.
'So, Professor Snape first then,' he thought. The man had made quite the first impression the night before. He was interested, if a bit apprehensive, at how the man would conduct himself in his role as professor.
"I wonder if the rumours about Snape are true," Tracy mused beside Alaric as if she could read his mind, making him peer curiously at the other girl.
"What rumours?"
"Everybody seems to say he favours Slytherins. As in, very blatantly favours Slytherins."
"I've heard the same," Daphne said quietly from across the table.
Alaric stood five minutes later, packing his book and timetable into his bag as he slung it over his shoulder. It was best to reach the classroom quickly and on time.
Thankfully, Snape's classroom was attached to his office and was therefore labelled with his name. Even more thankfully for Alaric and his friends, the door was unlocked so they quickly stepped inside and took a seat near the back.
Draco and Theo were the next two students to enter the room. They both took seats directly in the front before the other students started filtering in. To his amusement, almost the entirety of his year from Slytherin had entered the room before any Gryffindors not named Hermione Granger made their entrance.
Rose Potter was the last students to enter the classroom, rushing in and quickly glancing around as she did so. She was almost late.
Not blatantly so, but the bell had rung a minute or so earlier and the door slammed open not ten seconds after with Professor Snape striding into the room with his robes flowing as if caught in a non-existent wind.
It was quite the image.
He started class by taking the attendance and his dark eyes paused when they reached a certain name.
"Ah, yes," he spoke softly, "Rose Potter. Our newest celebrity."
Nobody dared to make a sound as Rose fruitlessly fought against rather obvious her fast-rising blush. Snape studied all of them with his dark, tunnel-like eyes before his monologue began.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making." He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word. Professor Snape had the gift of keeping a class quiet without effort and it showed. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I do not expect you will truly 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, even stopper death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
More silence followed this little speech. Alaric leaned back, eyes shining as took in the tempting words. A glance to the front told him that Daphne had leaned forward at the words whereas Hermione Granger was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she was not, in fact, a dunderhead.
"Potter!" snapped Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Even Alaric had no idea.
He knew what both ingredients were, but he had never heard of combining them. It was odd. Alaric had read most of the first-year section of his textbook, but couldn't for the life of him remember any potion that combined the two ingredients. Everyone else in the room looked stumped too, sans Daphne who looked strangely surprised at the question.
Even Hermione no longer looked so eager, seeming much more put out and a whole lot more apprehensive now than she had a moment earlier.
"I don't know, sir," Rose admitted quietly, unsuccessful at her attempts at trying not to redden even more than she already had when Snape had taken the attendance.
The professor's lips curled into a sneer. "Tut, tut — clearly, fame isn't everything." He was obviously trying quite hard not to smirk. "Let's try with the other one, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Rose knew the answer to this one, small mercy though it was. "In the stomach of a goat, Professor."
Snape's jaw seemed to tighten. "Indeed you would. You should have no problem then, in telling me exactly what a bezoar is?"
"It's a small stone that forms from the goat's bodily fluids, sir. It cures most poisons."
Hermione Granger did not even have the chance to raise her hand that time, and she appeared very put out about it.
Snape's expression did not change. "Correct," he said silkily. "And what, Potter, is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
Hermione almost stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling. Alaric noticed that Draco, Theodore, and Pansy were all glaring at her for a reason he could not entirely decipher. He supposed it was a bit rude to assume that Rose wouldn't be able to answer, but if looks could kill…
"There's no difference, sir. They're the same plant. I think it's also called aconite."
Snape looked oddly cross and he whirled on Granger. "Sit down!"
The girl in question fell back into her seat with the swiftness of one commanded by a sergeant. "Three points from Gryffindor for your deplorable behaviour, Miss. Granger. I would expect any civilized child with an ounce of dignity to remain in their seats while class is proceeding, and to not attempt to steal the praise of their classmates like a pathetic pet begging its owner for scraps."
Hermione briefly looked as though she might actually cry, and Draco, Theodore, and Pansy were caught up in fits of laughter. Even Alaric could not help but grin, though he hid it behind his hand.
"Potter," snapped Snape, "What exactly are the properties of Monkshood?"
"I do not know, sir." The girl was flushed almost as red as her hair by now and many of the Slytherins snickered rather obviously at her plight.
"Shame. For your information, aconite, otherwise known as monkshood and wolfsbane, is a leafy and poisonous variety of plants that is particularly dangerous and quite difficult to detect. Powdered root of asphodel when added to an infusion of wormwood creates a sleeping potion so powerful it is aptly named the Draught of the Living Death. The other questions were answered by Potter, and I will not repeat him. Well?" Snape barked. "Why aren't any of you writing this down?"
Alaric could not help but frown ten minutes later when Draco and Pansy were each rewarded with five points to Slytherin for answering questions far simpler than those asked of Rose Potter.
She hadn't been awarded so much as a point, and he was quite sure the Draught of Living Death was not a first-year potion.
Thanks for reading.