The Apprentice of Potions (A Severus Snape FanFic) *Finished*

Prologue

(A/N)Hello everyone, this is my first attempt at a FanFic, so I figured why not honor Harry Potter. First and foremost, I would be honored to dedicate this story to one bumblebee_5n4p3 for she is the reason I decided to do one. If you have not already, check out her "What If" story 'It Is Our Choices.'

I do not own the world in which JK Rowling created for us. No copyright infringement intended. The time frame begins 1 year before the Golden Trio even started Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft. The main character (and maybe a few others) is my own creation. A 7th year Ravenclaw by the name of Vienna Marques, who is a Spaniard and English who’s family moved (back) to England when she was 9. This is her story.

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            “Vienna! Come down this instant!” her mother’s voice shrilled from the bottom of the stairs. Vienna grumbled before she sat up in her bed. She yawned and rubbed her eyes with her fists, then threw the blankets back from her body. As she rose, she heard her mother bellow once more, “Vienna! Wake up, silly girl, come down right now! It’s of most importance!”

            “I’m coming, mother! I’m not deaf!” she shouted back. She reached for her bathrobe, threw it on, and opened her bedroom door to make it downstairs. She saw her mother looking up at her in an expression that could only be explained as sheer shock and excitement combined, her hand wringing her wrist. The little girl approached her mother hurriedly, “What is it, mum, are you alright, then?”

            “It has come, the day has come! Go out into the kitchen table. We need to speak at once, please go take a seat. I’ll pop in there in just a moment, darling, to fix your breakfast. I’ve just got to grab something. Go on then,” her mother beamed. Vienna raised her eyebrows in wonder, mums really lost it, she thought to herself. She turned to walk into the kitchen, making her way to the little round wooden table, and took a seat. Grabbing the glass in front of her, she poured herself some juice from the carafe sat in the center of the table. She took a sip just as she heard her mothers’ small heels clicking the wood floor headed to the kitchen. Her mother walked in quite briskly, beaming a little bit too brightly for the morning, something must be up. In her hands, her mother was holding what appeared to be a jewel box. She headed straight to the counter and placed it down, turned about headed to the stove, and asked Vienna what she’d like for breakfast. Vienna cast her eyes to the box, taking it in, pondering what her mum was up to. Her mother’s voice broke her reverie, “Vienna, did you hear me? What do you want to eat, my dear?”

            “Oh, right! I’d like an egg, cooked to look like a pancake. I do not want a runny mess on my plate, I may heave.” she stopped to think a second, her small hand scratching her eyebrow, thinking. “One piece of toast cut in half. No butter. Some of that blackberry fruit spread. Thanks!”

            Her mother grabbed the egg from the bowl on the counter, and put the pan on to heat. She caught glimpse from peripheral view, Vienna’s eyes back on the box with keen, deep curiosity. Those steely grey eyes focused intently on what exactly what her mum had wanted to show her. She snapped her eyes away as her mother placed the food in front of the child, looking up at her, smiling. “Thanks mum, this looks terrific!”

            “Once you’ve eaten, we shall have our discussion. Not a moment sooner. Now, enjoy,” Mum said to her, walking back to the counter. She fetched herself a cup of tea before making way back to the table, stopping only to pick up the box. As she sat down, she smiled over at Vienna as she ate. Vienna looked back, smiled weakly out of nervousness more so than anything. She finished her small meal, took one long drink from her juice, then jumped down from her seat to take her dishes to the sink. She came back to sit back where she was before, but her mother stopped her to sit next to her. Vienna sat reluctantly, folding her hands on the table in front of her, looking up at her mother.