Author's Note: And so the Slytherin Side Story to Ritually Yours begins. (Promethues Unbound being the Malfoy side story.) You can look forward to subplots involving the Malfoys, Julie and Victoria especially, along side some true improvements to the first year Slytherins. After all, the Gryffindors can't be the only ones to challenge Ravenclaw. Professor Flitwick will be most disappointed by the final class ranks.

This chapter has been improved by the feedback of drwho13, Corin Wolfkin, and of course the irreplaceable and indefatigable Jim Trigg.

Enjoy my Feast of Stephen (Or Boxing Day if you're across the pond) gift this year.


The Power of Steam

The Hogwarts Express pulled away from platform nine and three quarters at a quarter after eleven. When it came to the holidays, the schedule tended to slide a bit. Draco stretched out on one side of the compartment. Victoria was already yawning across from him.

Everything had changed since the Hogwarts Express had pulled into nine and three quarters before Yule. He'd been an absolute jerk before Christmas. Draco knew he was wrong now, thanks mainly to his half sister, but at the time he'd felt that it was his right to rule Slytherin, and he had, at least in his year.

He'd been the Heir to the Heir to the House of Malfoy, a Slytherin family almost without par. And since there was no Black, Gaunt, or Slytherin at Hogwarts, nor was there likely to be one, the last two having died out, and he, through his mother was the closest thing to a Black in his house, he felt that was his right. Draco had believed he was above everyone. He'd even convinced himself that Potter was nothing special.

Then he found out about his sisters. Victoria hadn't told him much about how she got pregnant, but Julie had told him how she'd been raped, after one really bad nightmare. He'd held Julie close while his half sister had told him about the day. It was something that deeply disturbed him when he'd heard about it. It was just something that he could not conceive of happening, especially to someone he knew.

Draco had been an only child, until his father's first wife had returned from the muggle world where his grandfather had exiled her. Now he wasn't, and after Christmas, he didn't want to be one anymore. Something about celebrating the holiday with his half-siblings had cemented them in his life.

There was little Joseph, not even two yet, who would toddle up to Draco and ask Draco to read. Sometimes it was a bit annoying, but when Joseph sat in Draco's lap and looked up at him with that smile, well it was hard not to smile back.

Then there was Judith, the little chess genius. It was apparently in the genes, given that mother Erlene was a magical chess Grandmaster. He'd been a fool to go in with Julie to get her own magical chess set, and had certainly paid the price. It was a good thing that they had purchased the set that would play against you. Not that she was just a chess player. Their father had given her a rocking horse that Julie would ride all over the manor. Draco had been almost run over more than once.

There was Junior, the not quite a ghost brother, and twin to Julie, forever five, but that was going to change, now that the ritual had been performed. By the time he returned to the manor next from school, Junior would be back, reborn. Junior was protective of his sisters, something that Draco had learnt from him. Brothers were supposed to protect their sisters. Seeing what happened to Victoria and Julie, and knowing the lengths that Junior had gone to, trying to help, Draco had to do better.

That's why Julie had the room next to Draco's, not across the hall, next to Victoria. He wanted to be there to protect her, to comfort his sister when she cried, to wake her from her nightmares. He'd been there for her since Christmas, and now he was going back to school. Now she was going to be sleeping all alone in the family wing. There would be no big brother next door. There would be no older sister across the hall, and first time in her life, the comfort of her twin, nearby, linked across the divide of life and death, was beyond her. He worried about Julie.

"Don't worry about Julie," Victoria said, suddenly. "Mum will make sure she's okay, and we do have the mirrors. I'm sure she'll contact us if she needs us."

"Yes, maybe," Draco said. Victoria's words were not reassuring. Julie was his favorite of his sisters. That didn't mean he didn't like the others, but it was Julie that he'd ended up getting to know the best. She'd pulled him into her fandom. He even had a Star Trek t-shirt in his trunk. He was sure that it would scandalize Slytherin once he wore it.

Draco looked back at Victoria. Her hand was low on her baby swollen belly, and there was a slight smile on her face. He had found out way too much about pregnancy from her. To be perfectly honest, he never wanted to hear about Victoria's cravings again. She was due in the middle of March, though, and he'd be an uncle then. He'd put his own suggestions in for the name of the boy. He knew what was out. There was no way anyone was going to be named after his Grandfather again. Not after the evil he'd brought into the family.

"So what is the chance of Tiberius, really?" Draco asked. "Now that you don't have to placate Julie."

"About as much chance as me naming him after you," Victoria said, as someone knocked on the compartment door.

Draco opened the compartment door, revealing Gregory Goyle, standing there, his hands folded and looking nervous. "What is it, Goyle?"

"Professor Snape said I should talk to you about getting some help studying," Goyle said, not meeting Draco's eyes.

"Both you and Crabbe need it," Draco said. Then he noticed his sister's glare. "Come, in and sit down, Greg. This is my elder half sister, Victoria Malfoy. I don't think you've been properly introduced to her before. Victoria, this is Gregory Goyle, of the Goyles of Skye. If you really want something moved, and can't use magic to do so, he's the one to call."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mister Goyle," Victoria responded. "And do take a seat. We have a long journey ahead of us."

As Goyle took his seat next to Victoria, Draco got up to close the door. Something made him look out first, and he spotted the Gryffindor Fifth-Year Boy Prefect. Draco really had no idea how to do this study thing. But the Gryffindor first years had arranged things, and certainly Percy Weasley would know how they did it. "Prefect?" Draco called out.

"Yes, Malfoy?" Percy said.

Draco took a deep breath, and tried to be as polite as Victoria had insisted that he should. "Do you have a few minutes? Professor Snape wants me to arrange a study group for my year, and I don't know how. I know the Gryffindor first years have one, and I thought you might know how they do it?" The sentence had come out in a rush, and somehow he was more nervous than he'd been waiting his turn to go under the Sorting Hat.

"I do have just a few minutes built into my patrol times," Percy said. "I can give you some advice, but wouldn't it be better ask one of the first years in Gryffindor, though? They are in the compartment next door."

Draco thought for a just a moment. Most of Gryffindor would see him as he'd been last term. Thanks to his sister, he knew his behavior towards them had been entirely unacceptable. He'd talked to Potter a bit over break, but hadn't apologized, though Potter seemed to not really need that. Victoria said it was because Potter had been abused, and really wanted to be liked, so he'd overlook what he shouldn't really. Potter was with his year in Gryffindor at the moment, though, and Draco couldn't do it in front of everyone, though he knew he really should.

As Draco pondered his response, the voice of Seamus Finnigan escaped from the compartment next door. "Adeste Fideles..."

"I don't think want to interrupt Finnigan," Draco finally replied.

"I can see that," Percy replied. "Merlin knows I've stopped work to listen to him sing before. You should hear him sing Calon lan." He looked into the compartment. "I take it that Goyle and Crabbe are the chief students in need?" He nodded at Goyle. "It's good to see you asking for help, Gregory."

Draco was a bit surprised that Percy used Goyle's first name. That just wasn't done, though now that he thought about it, the Gryffindors in his first year were all using their first names with each other. "Yes, come sit down," Draco said, stepping back into the compartment and sitting down next to the door. Percy found a seat next to him.

"Now, first thing you have to know is, who is the best at each subject, and who can explain it the best," Percy began. "Hermione Granger is the best at most of the subjects, but sometimes she just can't explain it. She has a particularly hard time with explaining charms for some reason. And there is a difference between practical and theory."

Percy pulled out an orange book with a big P on the front. He started to page through it, as Draco tried to see the title. It took a bit before he caught the right glimpse. "Prefect's Handbook," it read.

"Ah, here we go, first year rankings by subject," Percy said. "Now, don't tell anyone that the prefects have this. It's secret. We don't know your actual grades, but these pages tell us your current class ranking in each subject and if you're failing a subject, or overall. I can see my own, my brothers, and Penny's grades, but that's all. I can see why Professor Snape chose you, as you are the current best Slytherin in your year.

"It looks like you're tied for first in your Astronomy Practical grade at the moment with Perks and Granger. That's all you lead your year in. In Slytherin, however, you lead in Charms, Potions Theory, Defense, Astronomy, and History."

"Who leads in Transfiguration, Herbology, and Flying?" Draco asked.

"Davis in Transfiguration Theory and Flying, Greengrass in Herbology," Percy said. "Zabini leads in Potions Practical, and is tied with you for Theory. Bulstrode has Transfiguration Practical."

"Davis is good," Victoria said. "And if you didn't expect Greengrass to be leading in Herbology, you weren't listening to her name."

"The name doesn't mean anything when it comes to grades," Draco shot back, quoting what she'd said to him only a week ago.

"True," Percy said. "Get together with those, and find out what each of you are willing to handle. My first years split the subjects up, practical and theory, none of them taking more than three subjects. I think you should do the same. Set the study sessions for a little every day, even the weekends ... especially the weekends. Don't let anything that isn't study go on in the study area. Music is allowed, but nothing that has words..."


Julie Malfoy had been too tired to accompany Victoria and Draco to Platform Nine and Three Quarters. She had wanted to see the train, to see her older siblings off, but the ritual to start the restoration of her twin brother, stripping the lobe of his soul that she had unknowingly held from her, and confining Junior to her mother's womb so he could be born again, left her feeling really weak. So she'd taken a nap as soon as they had left for the platform.

The worst part was she was too weak to go up in the tower where they had put the telly. That wouldn't have been so bad, when her older siblings were next door, but she was the only one in the wing, save maybe a couple house elves. It was going to be so boring now that Victoria and Draco were at Hogwarts. Junior wouldn't be reborn for another month, almost, and it would be another five before he was five again and took the other suite on Julie and Draco's side of the hall.

According to her new Dad, you didn't get your own room until you were five, which meant that Judith and Joseph were way on the other side of the house near the parents' room, in the nursery. She had thought that was a good thing, but she would have killed for a good game of chess, even if she lost every time instead of sitting alone in her room with nothing to do. She'd even done the extra credit assignment for school, a school she wasn't sure she was going back to.

She was supposed to call for Dobby if she needed anything. She'd only seen Dobby once, and didn't see how the House elf could even be within earshot. Her room was practically sound proof, though for some reason you could hear the song birds in the garden. Julie suspected that was deliberate.

It was mid-afternoon. She'd got breakfast in bed, and taken a bath in her own bathroom. She loved her bathroom, especially the bubble bath in the large tub that she could submerge herself in. Being able to soak in the always perfectly warm water as long as she wanted, it was pure bliss. Julie figured that she'd spent at least forty-five minutes today, leaving her fingers all wrinkly from the water.

Julie had dried herself off, brushed her hair, and then returned to her bed. She hadn't dressed. It felt a bit naughty to stay that way, and it wasn't like anyone was going to visit her this afternoon. The parents had told her that they wouldn't be home until around three. Mum had an appointment at Saint Mungo's, wherever and whatever that was, so it wasn't like she would be caught, as long as she checked the clock every once in a while. The room was nice and warm, and it kind of felt nice when she was between her silk sheets, naked.

Her now well thumbed copy of Mr. Scott's Guide to the Enterprise had just been tossed onto her night stand. It could only be read so many times. She really didn't want to read more. Her stomach grumbled. She hadn't asked for lunch yet, and it was half past one. Julie pulled up her covers a bit, before calling out, "Dobby."

The house elf, just about as tall as Julie's sister Judith, appeared. "Mistress Juliet called?"

"Can I have my lunch now," Julie asked. "Out on the balcony?"

"Dobby can do," Dobby replied. "Does Mistress Juliet wish for the comfy chair?"

"I do," Julie said.

"Dobby will move it," Dobby said, before snapping his fingers. "Dobby thinks Mistress Juliet needs thick robe on balcony today." A green robe appeared at the foot of Juliet's bed. "Dobby will have everything ready in five minutes." Then Dobby disappeared.

Julie slid out from under her covers, and picked up the robe. Wizarding robes were nothing like bathrobes, like she'd first imagined when she'd heard the term. This one was far from it. She slid her hands into the sleeves and then brought the shoulders up. The under flap buttoned right on her right shoulder, and the over flap had a hidden row of hooks on the right side to keep it closed. She slid on her very warm slippers that her mum had given her for Christmas, and exited her room for the balcony.

The comfy chair was already on the balcony. It was rather old, having come from the Price apartment. It was a rather old shade of greenish gold, and across its back in black print was written, "Approved torture device by the Spanish Inquisition." The text had been there when it had been purchased probably fifth or sixth hand. It looked awful, with stains all over it, but was the comfy chair, and everyone wanted to sit in it.

Julie sat down with a big sigh. She loved the comfy chair. Moments later a table materialized over her lap, followed by her lunch. Julie knew she had no choice in her lunch, not when she was recovering from a ritual, but she could have done without the carrots. Julie hated carrots, and her mother never ever let her skip them.

Dobby appeared, unbidden along with her dinner. "Dobby forgot to ask. Mistress Erlene said to offer choice of strawberry cheesecake or chocolate cake for dessert. Dobby will iron his hands for forgetting."

"Cheesecake, Dobby," Julie said. "And can you bring out the record player to play some music while I eat."

"What composer should Dobby put on?" the house elf asked.

Julie considered it a bit for a moment. There were a lot of possibilities in the Malfoy record library, most of them a bit old, really. Fortunately, the Price record collection had been added. "Goldsmith, Jerry Goldsmith. There should be one called Star Trek: the Motion Picture."

"Dobby will find it," Dobby said. "Dessert will arrive when your plate is empty."

Moments later the record player arrived, an old one with a horn for a speaker, that provided surprisingly good sound, even with the blaster beam. Listening to the main title theme and Klingon Battle, outside in the country, just outside her own gigantic room. Julie had to admit to herself that she had things pretty good right now, even if she had to eat the carrots.


"Millicent, maybe you can explain it to Gregory better than I can," Malfoy said suddenly, interrupting Millicent Bulstrode's quiet time studying her Herbology. She was determined not to fail, and this new room that Professor Snape had arranged for the First Years to study in off the common room was perfect for studying. She hadn't expected Malfoy to interrupt her.

She definitely hadn't expected him to use her first name. That was just not done. She was Bulstrode to her classmates. None of them were close enough to call her Millicent. If one of them had called her Milli, she would have pounded them into the nearest wall. It was Malfoy, though. He got away with a lot of things, just because of who his father was. It wasn't fair, but Slytherin wasn't about being fair. If you wanted fairness, you'd ask to be sorted into Hufflepuff. She was annoyed at Malfoy's new habit of using first names, though.

Millicent tried to ignore the prompt, but when she looked up and saw Goyle's plaintive expression, she couldn't. She was too soft. "What's the problem?"

"Gregory is having trouble transfiguring wooden blocks into goblets," Malfoy said. "Same with Vincent, though not as bad. I'm having a hard time explaining it to them."

"Goyle," Millicent said sharply. "You like to carve figures, right?" Goyle nodded. "You're a Goyle of Skye, so you know what metal is like, in the forge?" He nodded again.

"Then what's wrong with the metal you've got in front of you ... not shape wise, but as metal."

"It's too soft, I think it's lead."

"Then for Merlin's sake, don't drink from it ... assuming that water would stay in it, you don't need to be dumb," Millicent replied, prodding the misshapen goblet with her wand. "Close your eyes. I want you to think of steel, like one of your family's swords. Imagine how it moved when it was heated. Remember how it would be shaped in the mold, before it was dosed in water. Now open your eyes, just a bit, and tap the block of wood in front of you, imagining it changing, flowing into the shape you imagined, and say the word."

Millicent watched as the block changed from a hunk of oak to a tall cylinder shaped cup, so shiny that she could see her reflection in it.

"Now, open them all the way, and look."

Goyle looked at it, and flicked its side. It made a soft clear ping. "I did it."

"Yes, You just have to really know what you want," Millicent said. She took a deep breath, and gathered her thoughts. "That's the key to transfiguration. Know what you want, not just abstractly, but really know it. The better you know what it should be, the better you can do it."

"Really?" Goyle said.

"And with those figures you carve, I'm pretty certain you can do a lot better," Millicent said. She'd seen him carving figures out of sticks in the common room. They were actually quite good, even before he handed them off to Crabbe to be painted. "You're a Goyle, you know metal, you know how to shape stuff. You just need to remember to keep that in mind when you try to transfigure stuff."

"So you have to know what you want it to be like to change it?" Crabbe suddenly said, causing Millicent to look at him. She'd never seen Crabbe when he figured something out, but as she looked at him, with his uncharacteristic smile and wide eyes, she somehow knew that he understood.

"Exactly!" Millicent said, as Crabbe transfigured his block of wood into a painted tin goblet.

After a few more minutes of walking Crabbe and Goyle through transfiguration, Millicent sat down and returned to her Herbology. "Thanks Millicent," Malfoy said. "I just wasn't getting through, and I thought you might be able to help. Professor Snape told me I was responsible for their tutoring, and I don't want to fail."

"No one wants to fail," Millicent muttered, trying to return to her quiet place. "I hate Herbology."

"You need some help with that?" Draco asked, moving so he was looking over her shoulder.

"I've seen you in Herbology, Malfoy," Millicent replied. "I'll get through it myself."

"Daphne," Malfoy called out. "I think Millicent needs some help with her Herbology essay."

Millicent was glad when Malfoy moved off to work with Parkinson, but that relief disappeared the moment Greengrass sat down beside her. Greengrass was a tomboy, and it showed. She wasn't wearing a blouse, she was wearing a shirt. She smelled of fresh cut grass, which given her name wasn't exactly out of place. Her hair was back in a pony tail, and she had practically bounced across the room to take the seat next to Millicent.

Millicent was not a tomboy. She was a good girl. She knew she wouldn't be some ravishing beauty when she grew up. She was too stocky, and the most flattering word that could be used to describe her face was plain. That didn't mean that she didn't try to look good. Weasley had said she looked like a troll, and that had hurt her badly. She'd tried a few spells to look better, but she wasn't very good at them. Why were so many hair care charms too advanced for first years?

"I think I see your problem," Greengrass said, interrupting Millicent's musing. "You've got Quercus robur mixed up with Quercus petraea. Easy to do, they do overlap in range. Petraea doesn't have a stalk to its acorn, and likes higher places and can tolerate acidic and sandy ground." She pointed to a particular paragraph. "Get rid of this paragraph, and look at page one seventy-two for the answer to the third part."

"Thanks," Millicent said, looking over page one seventy-two. How had she missed that page?


Lucius Malfoy sat in his study going over the accounts. Gaining three daughters and one son, plus a ghost turning into his middle son soon had changed expenses a little. Getting rid of the expenses for taking care of his unlamented father more than covered it, though. The Malfoy family was not strapped for cash in any case. He could afford a family twice as large as the Weasleys' without any issue.

He looked up at the pictures he had put on his desk. They were pictures of his eldest three children from the Malfoy New Years Ball. Lucius had enjoyed the ball, dancing nearly as much as his middle daughter and eldest son did.

His middle daughter Juliet Antonia Malfoy was the subject of the first of the pictures he'd let himself be distracted from accounting with. Julie, as she insisted on being called, was dressed in a classic red and green gown, much more mature looking than he really thought an eight-year-old (almost nine!) should be wearing. The photographer he'd hired for the ball had caught his daughter dancing with Harry Potter, as she twirled across the ball room he could see the glee on her face, and the laughter in her eyes.

The next picture was his son, Draco, dancing with Pansy Parkinson. There was an understanding with her parents, not quite an arrangement, but Draco and Pansy knew that their parents would prefer them to get together. There wasn't as much laughter in that dance, but it was obvious that it was no chore for Draco to dance with Pansy. He was ever grateful, however that someone had stopped Pansy from wearing one of her favored pink monstrosities of a dress. There were so many pictures of the two with her in one of those awful pink things dancing with Draco that he'd tossed because he simply couldn't stand the color.

Then there was his eldest, Victoria. His pregnant teenage daughter who none the less seemed to be dancing on air with Journeyman Ollivander, then passed off to Draco, then to Potter, before back to Ollivander. He loved to see that smile on his daughter's face, the carefree expression on a girl who had been forced to be all too serious by circumstance. She'd been most wanted and long unknown, but she was his, acknowledged as Heiress Presumptive until Draco was of age.

Victoria had taken the role to heart, and some. She'd gotten through to Draco about relying too much on threats from on high before Lucius had even realized that it was a problem. If for some reason he passed on before Draco was of age, Lucius knew already that the Noble House of Malfoy would be in good hands.

He had two, no three, once Junior was reborn, pictures to add to his desk. He thought perhaps he should see about having some pictures of Judith taken while she was playing chess, or perhaps he should follow her instructions and make a big chess set for her to play on the east patio, with its alternating sixty-four squares. Judith had taken one look at the large pavers and wondered where the chess pieces were for it. His littlest girl was a tad chess obsessed.

Junior's picture would have to wait for his rebirth. It had been two weeks since his soul had been ritually re-implanted inside his mother, and would be another two before he would be born again. Erlene was already waddling and showing that she was having him again. He would be born again on the third of February, but it would be July before he was back to the five he'd been when he'd partially "died."

He'd probably wait to do his youngest Joseph's picture until then, as well. Joseph was only seventeen months old, and as the current youngest in the manor, Lucius hadn't really spent much time with the toddler. There wasn't much to say about him yet, but he was still young. Lucius was sure that he'd be as an outstanding a young man as Draco was becoming, and Junior had shown himself capable of.

"Lucius?" Narcissa said from the doorway.

"Come in, my lady," Lucius said.

"I do not wish to disturb you, my lord," Narcissa in a formal tone that he had not heard from her in quite some time. It was almost as if she'd regressed to that time when they'd been united by contract, not the woman he'd grown to love. It was as if she had regressed due to the return of Lucius's first love.

"You do not disturb me," Lucius said, trying to think what he could say to reassure her. "I'm afraid that I'm already quite distracted." Lucius smiled. "I'm afraid that it may have been a bad decision to add the children's pictures to my desk. They've been quite distracting."

"They are," Narcissa said, with a big smile, one that he had not seen, really, since she'd held Draco for the first time. "And by October you'll have another."

"You mean you're pregnant?" Lucius asked. Narcissa nodded. He hadn't expected that. Erlene had told him that she expected him to try to get Narcissa pregnant again, in fact had insisted that the necessary time be taken. He hadn't expected it to happen, especially not so quickly. After all they'd tried several times after Draco had been born and not been successful ... until now.

Lucius picked Narcissa up in his arms and began to swing her around the study, planting a kiss firmly on her lips. "Lucius, put me down," Narcissa giggled, as his hands found her ticklish spots even as he swung her around. Then down onto the desk he let her.

"I think I shall," Lucius said, as he silently banished his second wife's robes. Then whispering into her ears he said, "Never forget how much I've grown to love you, my lady."

Lucius did not go back to the family accounts that day. He had far more important things to take care of. By dinner time Narcissa was quite well taken care of.


It was the third week of classes of the winter term, and Severus Snape was prepared for some reactions from his Slytherins. It was a Tuesday, which meant his first class of the day this term was First Year Slytherin/Gryffindor, or at least it usually was. Only Slytherins were gathering in his classroom in the dungeons. Snape was quite fine with that.

"Please move forward, gentlemen," Severus said noticing that there was a blank row now without Gryffindor. He needed everyone at a different table this week as well. "This is now a purely Slytherin class, at least for now. Please move to the table with the folder with your name on it."

"Where are Potter and his admirers?" Draco drawled.

Severus shook his head. He'd so hoped that Draco would get past his obsession with Potter. Any other one of his Slytherins would have just asked where the Gryffindors were. It had to be answered though. "After discussion with the Headmaster, it was decided that this class needed to be split. The Gryffindors are currently being taught by him."

"Lucky Gryffindors," Zabini said.

"The next four classes you will be completing and bottling your potions for judging by the Headmaster, Professor Emeritus Slughorn, and myself," Severus said. "There are three slots left in the Headmaster's class. Regrettably, I do not believe that more than one of you will earn this position. Each of you have been assigned a number to label your potion with. I've asked a prefect to provide them so I do not know whose potion is whose. You should each find the number inside the folder. At the end of class you will not be taking it up to the front. Instead place it on top of the folder. I will remain available for questions. Instructions are on the board, begin."

Severus began his usual stalk of the students as they started to prepare their potions. This was not a potion that was done in pairs. It also wasn't a simple one, but if it had been they wouldn't have been a good test. He was pretty sure that Goyle and Crabbe would fail it outright. The best ones would be Malfoy, Zabini, and Nott. Davis could surprise him.

The potions lab was quiet, allowing him to hear the simmering of the potions over the open flame. A scent of wintergreen wafted through the room as a green mist spilled over the edge of the cauldrons. No one asked questions, which worried Severus a bit. Usually the questions from the Gryffindors drove the class, allowing him to impart wisdom while venting his annoyance with the dunderheads in his class. Of course soon he'd just have the dunderheads in this class session.

The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were going to brew the same potions later in the afternoon. He wasn't expecting any of the Ravenclaws to be in contention for the three slots in Albus's class. Bones had one of the slots sown up. It really would be down to Malfoy, Zabini, Nott, Davis, Jones, Abbot, or McMillian for the other two slots. The plan was for 13 in Albus's advance class. Then the early class, which had been the Gryffindor/Slytherin class would take 10 to 13 of the worst and the remaining would be attending the late class.

The idea of trying ability splits for the second term was an interesting one. Severus knew that it was the way that it was done in muggle classes, having grown up in that world. He wasn't sure how it was going to be with the early class, but due to a trick of scheduling, he'd actually have just a bit more time working with them. Maybe he might just find a way to bring them up to a higher level with the extra time. He wouldn't have to use the same potions for every class, though his classes final exam would be written by Albus and Albus's class's final would be one of Severus's old ones, picked at random.

The class came to a close, with every student managing to complete the potion. A scan of the bottled potions led Severus to drop Nott from his list, and up Davis's chances a bit. He watched his Slytherins clean up a bit and exit, before Percy Weasley came in to label and collect the potions.

"Weasley," Severus acknowledged. The Gryffindor Fifth-year prefect had been assigned the task of making sure the potions were not easily identified as to who made them. Severus figured he'd still know a couple, though. He turned away but, then deciding that he really shouldn't be so dismissive of a prefect, he asked. "How is your wife?"

"Complaining about what I did to her as usual," Weasley replied. "Penny's having twins, you know. Will she be able to come to tomorrow morning's potion's class?"

"Tomorrow's potion is safe, so yes," Severus said. "Let me know when Professor Slughorn arrives this afternoon. Oh, have your wife bring a few extra bottles. The potion we're making is helps with morning sickness."

"I will," Percy said. "Thank you, Professor."

Severus turned and walked out of the potions lab. He had another ten minutes before the next class, just long enough to get a cup of tea.