Since going blind at 6 years old, Fiona Diggory has lived in the shadow of her twin brother, Cedric.
Now entering her 6th year at Hogwarts Fiona finds herself thrown into a new friendship with Fred and George Weasley while trying to determine the m...
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Severus Snape was, and always had been, a miserable fuck.
It was something Fiona had suspected since her third potions lesson with the man. It wasn't until the her N.E.W.Ts level exam that she knew this was an undisputed fact.
As Fiona sat huddled over her iron cauldron, her brows arched downward over her eyes. Beads of sweat formed, only to be collected by her thick brows.
Beside her, she could smell the fumes emanating from Rogers cauldron as they wafted towards her. The scent of his potion was filling her stomach with an unmatched fury.
Dirt. Gunpowder. Pine.
Amortentia.
Of course Roger had been given the easiest potion to identify. And of course he had been seated beside her.
Fiona cupped her hands over her nose and lowered her head over her cauldron. Nothing.
Fiona's hand dropped to the desk in search for her wooden spoon. She dipped the spoon into the cauldron and stirred it around in the mystery potion. The consistency was as ambiguous as the scent (or lack there of). For all she knew Snape had filled her cauldron with water.
All around her, her classmates were beginning to identify their potions. She could hear their quills scratching on their parchments, all beginning the second portion of the exam. An essay reverse engineering the antidote, using Golpotts Third Law.
Fiona's mind felt clouded. Dark cumulus mountains obstructing her thoughts as the threat of failure loomed over her.
Failure was easy enough for Fiona to accept, in fact, in most aspects of her life she had come to expect it. But never in potions.
Would there even be a reason to return to Hogwarts in the Autumn if she failed the one class she enjoyed.
She wanted to shout. To beat her hands against the ground like a toddler. But instead she took a deep breath. There was still time. She couldn't give Snape the satisfaction, after years of discouraging her from the subject.
What is it not?
It clearly wasn't amortentia. It didn't have the consistency to be polyjuice.
Her mind meticulously raced through all the potions they had brewed throughout the year. Each potion was easy eliminated until she exhausted the list. The mystery potion in her cauldron couldn't be a potion they had brewed during the year.
And then an idea hit her like a rouge bludger. The gall of Snape.
Vertiaserum!
They had only discussed the potion in passing, a constant reminded of what potions they'd have to look forward to brewing in their 7th year.
It was a deceptive concoction, used to elicit the truth out of the drinker. Without a scent, and possessing the consistency of water, it was the perfect potion to trick unsuspecting victims into divulging secrets.
