The Spark

The morning Harry began his final year at Hogwarts was nothing particularly special. The weather was fair with some dark clouds threatening to open up at any moment. The dorm itself was still quiet, broken only by the occasional snore by one of the other 7th year boys. Regardless of the mundane spirit of the environment, Harry felt it was the most fantastic morning he’s had yet. He was now a young man at 18 and entering into his classes he truly looked forward to, with the exception of one.

    Harry’s morning deflated as he remembered his first class of the day. Unfortunately, potions was still a requirement to be considered for auror training. On top of that, the class was held before any other class in the school. Harry had no idea Professor Snape was even alive at this hour. Harry knew Snape would be in a particularly foul mood given the early class time, on top of his usual repulsive behavior.

    Prior to leaving for breakfast, Harry triple checked that he had everything he needed for his potions independent study class. He wasn’t about to give Snape anything extra to complain about. The class this year would be particularly painful given the fact that only three students would be in the class total. The course was an independent study where each student was required to pick a topic of interest, which would culminate into a final presentation and research paper. Given his history, Harry decided to focus his on phoenix tears and their potential uses as an ingredient in various potions. Today they were expected to present their project topic, with hopes that it would be accepted. Of course, this is Snape we’re talking about. Nothing will be that easy.

    Harry was among the first to arrive in the great hall. Professor Snape immediately took notice of him, but Harry did his best to ignore the unwanted attention. ‘Probably trying to think of ways to dock points and throw me into detention.’ Harry thought. Harry scarfed down his breakfast, feeling the piercing glare of ‘He-who-must-not-get-laid’. Harry grabbed his bag, noticing Snape’s now empty seat. ‘Guess it’s now or never’. Harry stood and left the great hall as the rest of the school was starting to trickle in. Harry couldn’t help feeling a pang of jealousy.

    The staircase down to the dungeons was so silent you could hear a pin drop. Harry walked into the potion’s classroom. Snape was sitting at his desk sorting through papers. Without looking up, Snape growls, ‘Potter. It seems we will be stuck with each other as no one else seems to want to take a class with you.”

    Harry had to hold his tongue. ‘Clearly it has nothing to do with your dismal attitude,’ Harry thought to himself. Harry silently took a seat at the front of the classroom. He figured he wouldn’t be able to get away with a seat in the back given no other students would be present. Pity.

    Harry pulled out his books, papers, and quill, waiting for Snape to begin this torture. Snape continued to shuffle through his paperwork for another 10 minutes before he stopped, looking up at Harry. “Are you waiting for your project to present itself?”

    Harry startled, quickly pulling out the summary he had written over the summer, which was easier said than done since he had to pick multiple locks and work in silence, leaving him with many sleep-deprived days of torture, for fear that Uncle Vernon would discover him messing around with his ‘freak gear’.

    Clearing his throat, Harry began to read: “Phoenix tears, with their healing properties, have great potential as an ingredient for various…”

    “Potter. I am all for torture as much as the next person, but only when inflicting it on someone other than myself.” Snape stood from his desk and made his way to Harry. Snape sat on the table beside his, holding out his hand. Harry placed his report into his hand. Snape proceeded to glance through it, his expression difficult to read. “It seems that brain of yours may not be so empty after all.” Snape tossed the papers back on the desk and prowled over to one of his many dreary looking bookshelves. After searching awhile, Snape pulls a large, rather dusty volume from a lower shelf. “This should give you a good place to start your research. I suggest narrowing down the types of potions you wish to study their affects in.” Harry glanced at the title, ‘Rare and unique ingredients for the advanced apothecary.’