Potions class
First Lesson of the Day
3rd January, 1974 – 8;00 AM
The dungeons were as cold and damp as ever, the scent of mildew and boiled lacewing flies already clinging to the stone walls. Severus stalked into the Potions classroom, robes billowing behind him like he fancied himself the bloody Phantom of the Opera. At his side, Charity Burbage practically bounced with excitement, rattling on like a wind-up wireless.
"—anywaysweshouldtotallybepotionspartnerstodaybecause—"
"Fine," Severus muttered with a long-suffering sigh, cutting her off mid-ramble. "Fine. Just try not to natter the whole time, would you? I'd rather not have my eardrums spontaneously combust before breakfast."
Charity beamed as though he'd handed her a winning lottery ticket. "Yes! Suck it, Regulus—wait, I mean—yay!" she said, grinning like a lunatic.
Severus rolled his eyes with the sort of drama only a teenager could manage and slouched into a seat at the back of the classroom. Charity plonked down beside him with a triumphant flourish.
Moments later, Professor Slughorn burst into the room like a man who hadn't just rolled out of bed fifteen minutes ago, humming cheerfully to himself and clapping his hands together.
"Good morning, my little cauldron stirrers!" he chirped. "Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, I trust?"
Severus blinked slowly, unimpressed. How the man could be that peppy before sunrise was beyond him. Probably charmed his tea with a cheering potion.
The door banged open again as the Marauders arrived in their usual whirl of dishevelled robes, laughter, and barely concealed chaos. James's eyes scanned the room like a predator sniffing out prey—until they landed on Severus.
He jabbed Sirius in the ribs. "Oi. You thinking what I'm thinking, mate?"
Sirius gave a lazy smirk. "Always am, Prongs."
James's grin spread like butter on toast. "Perfect."
"Absolutely not," came Remus's voice from behind them, clipped and weary. "Whatever it is, I'm vetoing it."
James turned, aghast. "But Moony—how else are we supposed to get Snape's attention if we don't torment him a tiny bit?"
"You could try not acting like complete pillocks for once," Remus replied, stepping around them and heading for the front row like a man who'd rather deal with a nest of Cornish pixies than another detention.
Sirius and James exchanged a look. Then shrugged.
"Worth a shot," James muttered.
Middle of Potions
9:30 AM
Time ticked along with the dull rhythm of bubbling cauldrons and the occasional puff of smoke. Severus, who had been expertly slicing dandelion root while Charity measured out powdered bicorn horn, was doing his best to ignore the two baboons cackling like schoolboys (which, unfortunately, they were).
And then it started.
A tiny wad of parchment smacked him squarely in the shoulder. He flinched, lips thinning. He didn't turn around. Another one followed. This time it bounced off his book and landed in his lap.
Charity glanced over, eyebrow raised. "You're taking that quite well."
"I'm used to it," Severus muttered darkly.
A third piece, larger and unmistakably soggy, smacked him in the side of the face. That was the final straw.
He turned, standing up so quickly his stool scraped loudly against the flagstone floor. His face was flushed, black eyes sharp as daggers.
"Would you kindly refrain from behaving like three-year-olds in a sweet shop?" he snapped, glaring at James and Sirius who were, of course, sniggering like it was the height of comedy.
James leaned back in his chair, positively glowing with smugness. "Just having a laugh, Snivellus. Don't get your knickers in a twist."
"It's not funny. It's bloody distracting."
Remus sighed, not looking up from his potion. "Can we please go one lesson without you two starting a war?"
"Not my fault Snape's so fun to wind up," Sirius said, lobbing one last parchment wad before Remus caught it mid-air with a lazy flick of his wand and incinerated it on the spot.
"Next one that flies gets hexed," Remus said coolly. "And I will make it stick."
James pouted but muttered something resembling agreement. Slughorn, still distracted helping out a Hufflepuff who had managed to turn their potion into something vaguely resembling cheese, didn't notice a thing.
The remainder of class passed without incident—mercifully. Severus managed to finish the potion, albeit slightly late, and with a headache forming behind his eyes.
As the bell rang and the class began filing out, the Marauders sauntered off like nothing had happened. Severus let out a heavy sigh and began packing his things.
Charity stretched with a groan. "Merlin, they're annoying. I swear, Sev, just give me the signal and I'll whack them into next year."
Severus snorted in spite of himself. "You'd be doing the school a public service."
"Too right," Charity said, linking her arm through his as they headed for the corridor. "You can be the brains, I'll be the muscle."
"Terrifying combination."
"Exactly."