Chapter Text
The Slytherins were the first to the Potions classroom, having the advantage of dorms in the dungeons. When the Gryffindor’s eventually joined them the two groups stood stiffly apart. By the time the Professor swept towards them and opened the classroom door, you could have cut the tension between them with a knife. Much like in the hallway, the two groups sat as far away from each other as possible within the confines of the classroom. Harry found himself sharing a table with Theo, as Pansy had somehow maneuvered Draco so that he was sat next to her, much to her delight and Draco’s chagrin.
Professor Snape quickly made his way through the roll, though, not without stopping to comment on Harry. “Ah, yes. Harry Potter, our new- Celebrity” Harry just sighed internally at that. At least I know why he resents me now. He thinks I’ll expect special treatment or something. Refusing to return to his previous mood, Harry looked on attentively at the Professor’s introductory speech. Taking notes as he did.
“You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word— Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "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 softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnare 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." It seemed that no one in the room dared breath, the only sound being the soft scratching of Harry’s quill on parchment as he copied down the Professor’s words. “Then again, maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel comfortable enough to not pay attention… Mr. Potter!” Harry’s head shot up at the sharp call of his name. “If you are sure enough in your skills to be doodling in my class perhaps you could answer some questions for me?” Harry looked at the teacher, affronted, he had been taking notes not doodling. Before he could defend himself, however, the imposing man was standing over him, his voice low in what sounded to be anger. “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?” Harry wracked his brain for any scrap of information he might know on this, coming up with nothing he slowly met the man’s pitch colored eyes before answering.
“I don’t know, Professor.” Snape seemed almost gleeful at the admission.
“Tut tut Mr. Potter, clearly fame isn’t everything. Let’s try again, shall we? Where would I find a bezoar?” The Professor was reveling in the boy’s discomfort. Harry had the ridiculously unhelpful thought of well this isn’t very professional before shaking himself out of it and realizing he actually knew the answer to this one, however, the realization came along with the information that the man wasn’t quizzing him out of the first yearbook. The only reason he knew was due to a separate book he had bought on the properties of different potions ingredients. Now a bit miffed at his Professor, he caught the man’s eye and responded, pleased with the reaction the correct answer spurned.
“In the stomach of a goat, sir. It is a cure for most poisons.” Harry regretted adding that bit as it only served to further annoy his professor.
“Correct, but watch your cheek Potter. Even imbeciles are correct some percentage of the time. So one more question, to see if the last answer was a fluke, yes? See if you can tell me the difference between monkshood and Wolfsbane?” Harry’s nostrils flared, so much for Snape showing preference to his house, this was becoming ridiculous. Closing his eyes and quickly escaping into his ‘library’ he sifted through his information on potions ingredients when he came across a plant called aconite, which also went by the names Wolfsbane and Monkshood. In his haste to answer the question, he missed the look of surprise and recognition that flickered across the professor’s face at his subtle display of mental magic.
“That’s a trick question, Professor.” Harry ground out. “They are the same plant, which, might I add, also goes by the name aconite.” He couldn’t help triumphant look that crept onto his face at once more answering a question meant for a student many years his senior.
“Well!” The professor finally said, in a much louder voice, “Why is no one writing this down?” Harry slumped in his seat once finally out from under the man’s scrutiny. The rest of the class scrambled to start writing down the answers Harry gave.
The rest of the class was similarly distasteful, the only upside being when the Longbottom boy melted his cauldron and both he and Ron ended up with nasty looking boils all over them. While he felt a little bad for the quiet Longbottom boy, he was nothing but gleeful at the uncomfortable looking boils covering the redheaded boy. By the time class was dismissed all Harry wanted to do was go back to the dorm and crawl up in bed. Today had been exhausting and it wasn't even time for lunch yet. Sadly, they had Charms instead. At least it wasn’t a mixed class. Flitwick was a decent teacher, half the class had managed to correctly do the levitation charm by the end of the period. Draco could say what he wanted, but the man being half goblin did nothing to err his disposition. The charms professor was probably one of the most friendly adults Harry had ever met.
Lunch was a welcome reprieve for Harry, who felt as if his brain was slowly melting as the day went on. While he was no longer brooding, Harry found himself once more sitting silently through the meal, listening to the conversations around him with half an ear. Most of his attention was instead diverted to his swirling thoughts. There was so much new information swirling around in his head it was hard to process. On top of all the new scholastic information, he had a hundred new questions about Snape as well as a few ideas on how to convince Draco that Flitwick wasn’t below him based on his genetics. As a student, they should respect their teachers, regardless of their stature outside the classroom. Basically, his thoughts were running in every direction without rhyme or reason and he was starting to develop a headache. Hogwarts was sensory overload to the extreme for someone who grew up as isolated as Harry had.
The rest of the classes went off without any problems, although, the DADA professor made Harry uneasy for reasons unknown. Something else to add to his seemingly endless barrage of questions. Transfiguration was difficult, though McGonagall seemed to like him so there was that at least. Herbology reminded Harry of hours spent in the Dursley garden a bit more than was comfortable, but at least he knew what he was doing, and the Ravenclaws they shared the class with were non-confrontational, which was a bonus in of itself. At the end of the day they had two hours until dinner, which Harry wanted to spend laying in bed sorting out his thoughts, unfortunately for him, Draco had other plans.
“Come on Harry, you agreed on the train that we would ask him!” Draco sounded downright petulant to Harry, a fact he knew the blond would deny vehemently, even if it was true. “I have no clue why he seems to dislike you, but he’ll only continue to dislike you if you never give him a reason not to. Trust me, showing interest in his work is only going to put you in his good books.” Resigned to the fact that the blonde wasn’t going to let this go, Harry agreed on the condition that he could have thirty minutes to ‘nap’ before they went. If he had to confront the professor again so soon, he was doing it with a clear mind.
+++
Thirty minutes later Harry was feeling much less muddled. His efforts on the chaos that had been his mind had reaped quite a few interesting tidbits of information. The biggest one being that the uncomfortable feeling he got from Professor Quirrell was the same feeling he got from the thing in his forest. Not sure what to do with the new revelation, he tucked it away in his office for further reference. Some smaller, less distressing ones were that he could use herbology to supplement his potions class and that he had made a friend. The last one was based on his interactions with Draco so far. He was fairly certain that their relationship could be read as friendship, but he wasn’t entirely sure.
“You ready to head out Potter?” Draco came back into the dorm exactly thirty minutes from when Harry had laid down.
“Harry” Draco looked a little confused at that.
“What are you on about now?” he drawled
“Call me Harry, no reason to stick to formalities between friends, right?” Harry hoped beyond hope that he had been reading the situation correctly because he really didn’t want to drive the other boy away. The broad grin that appeared on the blonde’s face was enough to shatter any doubts he had previously held.
“You are entirely correct, Harry. I would like you to refer to me in kind, yeah?” Harry really liked how his name sounded on the other boy’s tongue. It was something he could definitely get used to.
Smiling right back he returned, “Sure thing Draco.” Smiles still in place, the two headed out of the dorms towards the Slytherin Head’s office. It wasn’t until the door was in their sight that Harry’s face fell. “If he kills me, I am coming back as a ghost for the sole purpose of making your life a living hell.” Draco snorted at Harry’s dramatics before walking up to the heavy oak door and rapping sharply on it. Harry instinctively took a step back as the door swung open, which he was immediately glad for, as it meant that Snape noticed Draco before laying eyes on probably the last person he wanted to see.
“Good afternoon boys. Draco, good to see you as always. Potter, a pleasure I’m sure. Do come in, though I can’t imagine what you two could need of me already, especially seeing as the disagreement with Mr. Weasley has been dealt with already.” Harry fought the instinct to cringe away from the scowling man, the expression closely mirroring that of his uncle. Snape was a teacher, teachers cannot lay a hand on a student. Or at least, they can’t in the muggle world. Here he wasn’t so sure, especially if Flitch's rambling was anything to go by. Suddenly much warier, he stepped into the office behind Draco, staying as close to his friend as he thought acceptable. Even if the Professor was allowed to punish him as he pleased, he liked Draco, and Draco liked Harry, so hopefully, he would be safe as long as he stayed close to the blonde.
“We’re not here about any problem with the school Sev. It’s a scholastic inquiry we’re here for.” Draco looked over at Harry, expecting the other boy to explain further. Harry, on the other hand, was caught up on the boy’s casual use of ‘Sev’ and the fact that the older man hadn’t even blinked. Apparently noticing the Harry’s less than focused state he began to explain how they came to this discussion in the first place. After explaining Harry’s academic exploits that Draco had interrupted on the train, Draco once more motioned for Harry to continue the conversation, as he was the one who had done the research on the subject. This time, Harry was ready.
“It’s really not as impressive as Draco makes it sound sir, I was just comparing a few books on magical creatures when I came across some contradictory information about the wolfsbane potion. Draco mentioned that, since you created it, you might know the answer?” Harry paused, waiting for any sign or protest from his Professor, seeing none, he quickly continued. “Well it’s like this professor, the Ministry makes it impossible for Werewolves to have any kind of livelihood, be that a job, marriage or children, with the explanation that it’s safer for all involved if they don’t. Which is rather stupid if I might add, as from what I’ve read they’re only dangerous one night a month... but that’s off topic, sorry. Anyway, they make it impossible for them to live because they’re dangerous, but your potion removes that danger! What is the ministries reasoning behind regulating the distribution of the potion so heavily? Sure, people could make it themselves, but from what I’ve seen it’s not at all easy to make, so most people have to buy it, but the ministry regulates the amount that can be sold per shop, which means the shop owners need to hike up the price to make a profit. All I can’t grasp is why they’re regulating it.”
Snape leveled a calculating gaze at the boy in front of him, not wanting to admit that the passion behind his bright green eyes reminded him strongly of his best friend, and not at all of his childhood tormentor. Instead of thinking on that at all, he considered the question presented to him. “It is rather simple, Mr. Potter. They don’t want to admit they were wrong. As you began to say before cutting yourself off, they are only dangerous for one night a month, they could very well hold jobs and social lives even without the potion on every day but that of the full moon. By conceding that fixing the once a month problem that they claim is the only reason for sectioning them off from society is fixable with a potion, they would have to admit that it is only a once a month problem. The issue here is the prejudice against werewolves that claims they are savage and dangerous people all the time. By regulating the potion, enough of the werewolves are still dangerous that one night a month, that they don’t have to retract the current laws in place or admit that they have wronged an entire subgroup of our society.” The professor in front of Harry now was not one he had encountered before. He was still teaching, so definitely still his Professor, but the man was so passionate about the subject without any of the disdain he had held in their class that morning. If this was more what Draco’s ‘Sev’ was like, he could start to understand the admiration the blond held for the man.
“So what you’re saying, Sev, is that the ministry systematically oppressed the werewolf population because they don’t want to admit they were wrong?” Draco’s disbelieving voice was void of its usual calm drawl, instead, it was pinched with incredulity. Snape leaned back in his chair, looking at his godson with consideration.
“It’s really not as uncommon an occurrence as you might think Draco. The ministry sweeps things under the rug all the time in order to save face. A little money will go a long way within the ministry walls these days.” Harry observed the slight widening of Draco’s eyes at the last comment with interest. Apparently, that had some kind of double meaning to the blonde. “Now, if I’ve answered all your questions for today, I have work to do.”
Draco nodded to his godfather before getting up to leave, Harry close on his heels. Just as the door was about to close Harry called back to his teacher, “Thank you sir!” before the door closed behind the two boys. The potions professor was left wondering if he had entered the twilight zone. A Potter posing well thought out, well-researched questions. What was the world coming to?