King of the snakes

Chapter four

Snape began reciting something that was clearly what he said every year. Harry knew from the others that taking notes was not something Snape would appreciate, so he quelled the itch to do something with his hand by tapping at the table, unable to pay attention.

"Mister Potter." Harry startled and looked up at the man, who had appeared behind him. A few giggles from the Gryffindors were quickly stopped by icy glares from Theo and Draco. "Our new... celebrity," Snape continued, pretending not to notice anything.

"I wonder, could you tell me," He paused for a moment, as if attempting to recall something just on the tip of his tongue. "What would I get if I were to add powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Harry's face lit up. While Theo and Harry had mostly just gone over the ingredients section, each ingredient listed potions it was used in. And wouldn't you know, asphodel and wormwood had an overlap that had interested the two.

"Would it be the draught of living death sir?" A flicker of surprise flashed in Snape's otherwise dull grayish brown eyes. He seemed satisfied however, nodding and beginning to write on the board.

"Now, please open your textbooks to page 38. We will be making a potion to cure boils today, and some other rather simple medicinal potions. I am sure the hospital wing will need to be rather... well stocked." There was a sound of pages turning, the silence of reading the recipe, and the bustling as they got out all of the required supplies and ingredients.

At this point, most people stopped, assuming Snape would have more to say. Most people.

"What are you doing?" Harry hissed at Draco, who had begun chopping and preparing his ingredients.

"He'll want us to have started," Draco responded, keeping his gaze focused on the knife in his hands.

"How do you-"

"He's my godfather," Draco cut Harry off, obviously anticipating the question. While doubtful, Harry too began chopping, and soon enough was rewarded when Snape told the rest of the class to get to work, and shot the two of them, as well as Theo and Daphne, who had gotten the hint, an approving look.

With a bit of help from Draco, Harry managed to make a potion that at least resembled the one in the book. Across the room, the Gryffindor who'd lost his toad on the train (Nigel?) had somehow completely melted his cauldron. Snape was... not happy.

Just before class ended, they carefully put their potions into vials. (Other than the boy whose cauldron had melted, whose name was actually Neville, as Harry had noted. He just stared miserably at the floor. Harry felt bad.)

Harry felt a tap on his shoulder, startled a bit, but turned around to see Theo standing behind him, with a bright smile covering his face.

"Harry, your mother's name was Lily, correct?" Theo asked, and continued before Harry could answer. "Well, in flower language, that question he asked you, a bouquet of those ingredients would roughly convey the meaning that he bitterly regrets your mothers passing." Harry's eyebrows shot up.

"Usually, I would write it off as coincidence but asphodel is-"

"A type of Lily!" Harry realized. "I-thank you," he said awkwardly. "For telling me." Theo nodded, still beaming, and returned to packing up his stuff, leaving Harry, still dazed.

"Thank you, sir," Harry murmured while walking out of the classroom.

"You have her eyes," Snape replied in a low voice, eyes flickering to meet Harry's own for a fraction of a second. Harry could have sworn that he could feel the man's pain, as it surely couldn't have been his own, he had barely known his mother.

Snape broke his eye contact, and Harry continued out of the door, with the strange feeling of someone else's emotions settling alongside his own. The rest of the day continued as normal as his first day of wizarding school could, though he still felt the pang of emotion that he had firmly decided was not his.

He still wasn't sure what all he had felt in that fraction of a second, but as he thought back on it, it felt a whole lot like guilt. He would have to ask the mysterious professor another time.

Their first period of free time was taken up with starting the potions homework. (Ten inches. On the first day! And also, who measures essays in inches? What if you write little?) They got the rough drafts done by lunch though, which, like all of the other meals they had consumed, was incredibly satisfying.

History of magic, on the other hand, was decidedly not satisfying. Or even slightly interesting, and that was saying something for Harry, as he loved learning about this new world that he had apparently been born into.

After they had completed the class, (and woken up), they decided to go through the textbook pages that their undead professor had. It was actually fairly interesting, and Harry was considering reading more of it out of class.

Dinner was fantastic, as per what they were now used to. The common room was cozy, and they completed the potion's assignment before making their way up to their dorms. Theo motioned towards his bed, a questioning look on his face. Harry grinned and sat next to him, a textbook open on his lap.