Snips and Scars In Which Difficult Potions are Brewed, a harry potter fanfic

Chapter 88, everybody! Still catching up on AO3 but since we've got enough updates for April...let's do it.

So a couple chapters ago Dumbledore quoted the same show that Malfoy does, as it turns out, that being Top Gear—whether it's from the original run or the revival, I'm not sure, it's one of those things that started popping up on my dash and I found out the name by accident. And since the boys had no reason to go into the Forbidden Forest second year, they weren't aware of Acromantulas before now—said giant spider is named after the song by the Who.

In other news...what is Harry's class schedule for sixth year honestly, I looked it up and after Monday it's just a bunch of question marks. And since Harry knew for certain he was getting into Potions this year...he doesn't get the Half-Blood Prince's book. Fortunately for Harry, he's been having that instruction in a roundabout way for just about his entire scholastic career. XD Also yes that's a reference to the Septimus Heap book series by Angie Sage, I highly recommend that one it's fun. Hermione, meantime, is quoting Colette from Ratatouille.

"So thus far I don't have complaints about the classes, just the homework," Ron said when they sat down for lunch. "I think we can kiss that free time goodbye."

"Speaking of," Harry said, tugging their notes and calendars out and marking everything down. "We could probably get the camera finalized on these periods, make sure it works with Hogwarts' wards, and then we can start with...who's first..."

They spent the rest of that particular free period and lunch sorting out all the clubs so they could record them for posterity, as Dumbledore had put it, before packing up and hustling for Care of Magical Creatures.

"After this is double Potions," Hermione said, reading off her schedule. "Tomorrow night is Astronomy but we have Herbology in the afternoon, Wednesday Harry and I have Arithmancy and all three of us have another Potions, I have Alchemy Thursday morning—"

"And you and Ron have Prefect meetings that night," Harry pointed out.

"And then Friday we have Transfiguration, Charms, and an afternoon Defense."

"So Monday's doomed to be our busy day," Ron said. "Good to know, I can pace myself."

"Ron."

"I keep noticing that our classes are smaller," Harry observed as they reached the others. "Do we just all condense down to one class?"

"Not everyone was going to keep with Care of Magical Creatures, Potter," Malfoy said. "I bet Blaise skipped because he thought this would spare him from Hippogriff lectures."

"I saw him in Runes—that was his exact reason."

"Hullo you lot!" Hagrid greeted, waving as he came over from walking Grawp through mowing the castle lawns. "Welcome ta yer first NEWT class for Care of Magical Creatures—been saving some real special ones for this level, now that the Ministry thinks yer ready."

"How much talking did it take to keep you from covering these guys before now?" Ron had to ask.

"Took some finagling," Hagrid admitted. "But this first one's gonna be a real beaut, been real excited ta introduce you all. Now you lot sit tight, gotta go fetch 'im."

Malfoy waited until Hagrid disappeared into the forest before looking at them. "What do you think?"

"It's probably another Skrewt," Ron guessed.

"It's not a Skrewt," Harry said.

"It could be a Skrewt."

"It could be," Malfoy agreed—paled considerably as a look of horror slapped itself on his face. "THAT'S NOT A SKREWT."

Harry turned to see what had spooked Ron and Malfoy so badly—

Couldn't help but jump back as an absolutely massive spider followed Hagrid out of the forest, body easily the size of the Weasley's Ford Anglia. He was vaguely aware of Hermione taking cover behind him—mostly he was concerned with the big fangs on the front of the spider.

"Now 'ere we go," Hagrid said, beaming. "This 'ere's Boris—can anyone tell me summat about 'im?"

"Th-that's an Acromantula," Malfoy managed. "Those aren't supposed to be native to Great Britain."

"They aren't," Hagrid said brightly. "They're actually native to southeast Asia, but we've got a colony of 'em right 'ere in the Forbidden Forest. Anyone else have anything they know about them?"

Harry might have. "Isn't Acromantula venom used in potions?"

"Yes—few fellas like Boris here donate summa their venom for the NEWT Potions students—yeh might be using some this year, actually."

"But aren't Acromantulas really dangerous?" Hermione demanded. "I've heard they eat people."

"Well…summa them do."

"It's not our fault you humans look like food," the spider clacked.

Everyone went dead still and silent at that declaration.

"The spider talks," Malfoy said flatly.

"'E does," Hagrid said. "We'll be coverin' a lot of magical creatures that could be classified as beings but for th' fact that they don't get along well with people all the time. Like the viewin' us as food bit. Ron yeh've been awfully quiet."

Ron had—Harry looked at him, saw that he was basically petrified on his feet, staring at the giant spider—oh right Ron was terrified of them. Tap him on the chest—

Ron went straight backwards in a dead faint.

Everyone took a few moments to process this.

"So," Boris said finally. "Is anyone gonna eat that?"

Using ennervate on Ron wasn't exactly effective when he kept fainting at the sight of Boris; the executive decision was eventually made to leave him like that, Goyle tossing him over his shoulder after class to haul him back up to the castle afterwards.

"Bluh," Ron noised once they had him on the floor and revived. "S-spider—"

"Class is over, Ron, you missed it," Hermione said.

"Big spiders in the Forbidden Forest," Ron muttered, rubbing his face. "Are they mental?"

"At least now we know why the forest is forbidden," Harry said. "Come on, get up, we'll be late for Potions."

Goyle split off from them at the turning for the library, admitting that he and Crabbe were taking some remedial classes since hoping two OWLs would carry them was slim, leaving the rest of them to continue on to the dungeons for Potions.

"So after dinner I need to find out when the other Astronomy lessons are so I can finish scheduling the HAG meetings," Harry said, glancing at Malfoy. "I think maybe this year we can afford to make them more Hippogriff-centered."

"I'm definitely ready," Malfoy said, pushing through the door. "Also when are you scheduling Quidditch tryouts? I have a need to book the pitch then."

"Don't make me hex you, Malfoy."

"Ah good, good, unless I miss my guess you four make just about everybody," Professor Slughorn said, beaming. "Oh I hope you're ready, I've been looking forward to you lot getting to your NEWTs—these two years are when we can brew some deliciously difficult potions—not that you should sample many of these if you can avoid it," he added, indicating a few of the cauldrons he had sitting on his desk.

"It's good to see you too, Professor," Harry greeted. "Hey, Snips, been enjoying Potions?"

Snips' expression suggested that the first years' class before theirs had not been a raging success.

"Yes, well, as it turns out we had to have a whole discussion about why some combinations cause cauldrons to melt," Slughorn sighed. "But! Now that we're all here, we can get started! Can anyone identify any of these potions, to start with?"

Harry and Ron were actually in competition with Hermione for once. "Ah, Mr. Weasley, I don't get much occasion to call on you—which one do you recognize?"

"Polyjuice Potion," Ron said, pointing at what looked like bubbling mud. "It lets you look like someone else for an hour."

"Correct! I'm certain if it's not your family in the Ministry that told you that, it was that bit with that Death Eater playing at poor Moody a couple years ago."

Actually it was because they had successfully brewed it in second year, but Ron seemed to share Harry and Hermione's opinion that this was something best kept to themselves, despite Snips squinting at them (Harry was certain that he would have been disappointed if they didn't recognize it).

"Now, moving on, can anyone tell me what this one is? Yes, Miss Granger."

"That's Amorentia," Hermione said. "It's a love potion."

"Not just a love potion—the strongest one there is," Slughorn said. "Possibly this one's the most dangerous potion I'll be teaching you about—you can't fake love, at best what love potions give you is infatuation and lust, and those can be treacherous. When I teach you about this one this year, the main focus is going to be on teaching you how to recognize it and how to brew a counter for it. I've seen students affected by it before, it's not pretty—somewhat like being Imperiused. Run of the mill love potions, they're strong but they don't have a long shelf life—this one is easily the champion of that branch."

Harry looked at the potion as Slughorn went over its distinctive properties—he hadn't really had much experience with romance and wasn't too certain it interested him now. Besides, there was a very real chance that anyone who wanted to date him wouldn't date him, but the idealized version with all the titles. It sounded very exhausting and like a problem for future-him.

Saying that…seeing as how some of the girls in the room were eyeing the potion, he'd probably have to start taking notes from Moody and keeping a personal flask for a while.

"Now, this one—yes, Hermione."

"Veritaserum," Hermione said. "It's a colorless, odorless potion that compels the drinker to tell the truth."

"Not just that, it's the most powerful potion in that line—I hope you all are noticing a pattern," he said, waggling his eyebrows at them. "Oh, these are my favorite years, when gifted students are truly challenged. Now, for our first challenging potion to brew—"

"Sir, you haven't asked us what that one is yet," Ernie Macmillan said, pointing at a small black cauldron full of golden potion, bits of it splashing about like excited goldfish.

"Ah, a good catch, Mr. Macmillan—can anyone tell me what this potion is?" Beamed when Hermione's hand shot up. "Well, my dear girl?"

"It's liquid luck!" Hermione said. "It makes you lucky!"

Everyone perked up at that one. "Very good, Hermione, ten points to Gryffindor!" Slughorn boomed. "Yes, this is Felix Felicis, the lucky potion—desperately tricky to make, disastrous if you get it wrong, dangerous if taken in large doses—downright toxic, actually. I'll allow you to attempt brewing it in seventh year, but for now...whoever can make me a perfect Draught of Living Death in today's class will win one vial of liquid luck," he said, pulling a tiny golden vial out of a pocket to show them. "Enough for twenty-four hours of good luck, although I advise that you strongly visualize what you want before imbibing it—I've taken it twice over my lifetime, two perfect days, although the luck will take you where it will. Also I must needs remind you that this is not to be taken in relation to organized competitions—no sporting events, whether participating or betting upon, no examinations, no elections, no Triwizard Tournaments. It must be taken on an ordinary day only, which will make that day extraordinary.

"Now, turn to page ten in your books—whoever comes out on top, wins this bottle!"

Everyone scrambled to their desks and started unpacking their Potions equipment, Harry about vibrating from excitement at the challenge for his favorite subject.

"Okay, pact," Harry said. "Whoever wins, right before they take the stuff they have to intensely visualize beating Moldy-Voldy."

"The power that the dark lord knows not ends up being good vibes," Ron said, grinning.

Snips, meanwhile, had a length of chalk coiled up in his tail and was on his perch with wings crossed huffily, glaring at Professor Slughorn who was somehow having a one-sided argument with him.

"Yes I know but this is important to assess where everyone is," Slughorn was telling the little familiar. "After today, then you can write it down on the chalkboard." Snips chittered. "Well fine you can write it down on some paper and I'll copy it—we'll assign it for homework and they can tell me how your version differs from the version in the book."

"So no help from Snips this round," Ron noted. "All right, may the best student win."

"Good luck," Harry said, shaking his hand before getting to work. Hermione was already busy with hers, and Malfoy wasn't too far behind.

And even if Snips wasn't directly helping, he had shown Harry enough over the years that he knew when to deviate from the instructions and how—example being when cutting the sopophorous bean wasn't releasing the juices; his next instinct was to crush it with the flat of his knife, which did the trick perfectly. Twenty minutes in, and he was slowly pulling ahead, calculating whether or not he ought to risk adding a clockwise turn every seventh turn but also debating on whether or not he ought to risk it since he was technically ahead, decided to after counting to the next seventh (Snips had instilled the need to keep track of the stirs) when he didn't notice it getting any clearer.

"How are you doing that?" Hermione hissed at him.

"Add a clockwise stir on your seventh," Harry told her. "Which one did that, Septimus Heap's Seven Rules of Seven?"

"Now is not the time to be improvising."

"Mine's clearer."

Ron—whose cauldron was currently full of tar-colored potion—started snorting at the conversation, causing Hermione to huff and focus on hers.

"I'll toss one in," Ron said, still snickering. "I can't possibly do worse right now."

"The cauldron could explode."

"True."

"Time's up!" Slughorn announced. "Stop stirring and step away from your cauldrons, everyone, let's see how you did!"

Snips dried the ink off his paws and immediately launched into the air, circling over the Potions room and eyeing everyone critically before swooping down and landing on Harry's head. Slughorn gave the rest of them a cursory look before following his lead, expression switching to delight upon seeing Harry's potion.

"Excellent, Harry, Excellent! My goodness, it's just about perfect—I'd be willing to bet one drop would kill us all! How'd you do it?" Nodded when Harry explained, glanced at Snips' paper before looking back. "Ah me you'll be ahead on the homework even—but! As promised, one vial of Felix Felicis! Use it in good health, my boy."

"Remember the pact," Ron said after class (and a reminder of which nights the Slug Club would be held).

"Moldy-Voldy will never know what hit him," Harry said, grinning.