The Potions Master
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, Somewhere in Scotland - 2 September, 1991
The first day of school progressed at a snail’s pace after that horrible vision. After lunch was History of Magic, which was just as dreadful as Uncle Severus described. Professor Binns was as boring and stale as the beige coloured table cloths that Mother used for parties, but at least those had lace and blue stitching. Binns had nothing to make his class more interesting, no lace or frills to make that class at least a little palatable. But Draco didn’t complain…. Out loud anyway.
After History of Magic was Defense against the Dark Arts, and that was somehow even worse. Quirrell was a stuttering, snivelling fool, who Draco could barely understand a sentence from. He couldn’t even get through his welcome speech at the beginning of class, tripping and absolutely falling over his words.
Draco swore that if he had to hear Quirrell stutter out “D- Def- Defense- Ag- Again- Against the D- Da- Dark A- Arts.” One more time that he would throw himself to Pansy for a makeover, a fate worse than death. However he didn’t say that allowed, not a single peep left him even as he was planning Quirrell’s demise.
Astronomy was at least a class Draco could get behind, his Mother was a Black after all, and everyone knows that a Black is never bad at astronomy. Sadly, however, that class was another introduction into the subject than actual reading of the stars. Professor Sinestra did promise, however, that they had a midnight class full of practical work the very next day!
~1~
That night Draco joined all of Slytherin house into the common room, barely making it to the front and gaining him a seat next to Pansy and Blaise. He said not a word and neither did they, everyone knew what was happening that very first day. It was something every Slytherin must do on their first day….. Listen to the rules.
The common room was dead silent as Uncle Severus walked to the front, his long black robes creating a train behind him as he strode on. He stopped in front of the fireplace, his back to the students as he looked into the roaring flames.
“Welcome to Slytherin, the house of cunning and ambition.” He turned slowly to the house, his permanent sneer ever present on his face, “I am Professor Severus Snape, head of Slytherin House and the Potions professor. The prefects will act in my stead when I am not here to watch and coddle you, they may give points, take away points, and can give out detentions. All of which must be approved by me.” His eyes, somehow, narrowed even more.
“I expect you all to have heard from either your parents or fellow schoolmates that Slytherin has a reputation for the dark arts and for the evil. However, we are also known for our cunning, ambition, and wit. I expect you all to keep these traits in mind as long as you are a student here and represent not only yourself and your families, but also all of Slytherin house.” And with that he left in a flurry of black robes.
The entire room sat quietly for a moment, waiting a few beats as the door slammed shut. Finally the prefects walked up to the front of the room and began to go over some more rules in depth, talking more about what loses them points, earns them points, and what would warrant a detention. Draco, however, was not listening to word of it. He already knew all of the information, after all, but what Severus had said resonated with him.
‘The dark arts and for evil…. Cunning, ambition, and wit.’ He wondered and compared this to what his father had always told him. ‘“A Slytherin should be smart, of the purest blood, and should always get their way, even if it means hurting others to get it.”’ Draco remembered those words well, it was a sentence he had heard time and time again. But Uncle Sev had never said anything about blood in his speech.
‘Something to think about.’ He thought for a moment before forcing his mind to move on and think of the next day.
~2~
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, Somewhere in Scotland - 3 September, 1991
DADA the next day was scheduled to be after lunch was once again horrible, that day was all about learning the theory behind jinxes and what was classified as a jinx. The lecture in itself wasn’t too bad, actually it would’ve been considered an amazing lesson. If it weren’t for Professor Quirrell and his horribly obvious fake stutter and smell of garlic that littered his classroom. Luckily the class went by a lot faster than the previous day, possibly because he had potions class afterwards to look forward to.
“I just know I’ll do great!” Draco boasts when the Slytherin’s herd around him, following him into the dungeons, “I’ve been doing potions since I was crawling! It’s a very precise art you know, one that takes control and knowledge to-”
“Shut up, Malfoy.” Weasley barks at him, glaring at him. Draco blinks, a bit put out, especially when he hadn’t even seen the little weasel waiting for them at the potion classroom’s door.
“How about you shut it, Weasley, why don’t you go down to the kitchens and stuff your face some more, after all- '' Draco quickly cuts himself off when he sees Har- Potter peeking out from behind Weasley. He bites the inside of his cheek for a moment, breathing quietly and trying to control himself. His father would be scolding him for losing himself so easily.
Before anyone else could say another word the door to the potions lab creaked open, revealing a dark and smoking room. The room glowed with the same eerie green that came from the Slytherin dorm, but was far more chilling. Draco was the first who stepped into the room, unafraid of whatever Uncle Severus had in mind for the first day.
Surprisingly enough no one was in the room, Uncle Sev was nowhere to be found, but Draco still took up residence on the left side of the room. Pulling out his cauldron and knife set, readying for what was sure to be the best class at Hogwarts. Many of the other first years followed his example, especially the Slytherin’s.
The door slammed open not a minute later after everyone was seated, followed by Uncle Severus striding in, accompanied by billowing black robes. “I will have no foolish wand waving or silly incantations in this class.” He quickly walked to the front, stepping in front of a large oval desk and turning to the first years. Snape spoke in almost a whisper, but he didn’t need to due to how silent the room was.
“As such, I don’t expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion making. However, for those select few,” Severus paused for a moment like he always did, Draco remembered thinking it was so silly yet impressive how Uncle Severus always commanded the room, “who possess the predisposition.”
He looked around the room for a moment, as if glaring and sizing up each of his students. “I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper on death.” His eyes snapped to a desk not far from Draco’s, to one Harry Potter.
Draco followed the Professor’s eyes, looking at the Boy Who Lived. ‘Lived to take notes and not pay attention apparently.’ Draco joked inside his head, silently laughing at his cleverness.
“Then again, maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel confident enough…” Snape stopped for a second before raising his voice ever so slightly, “...to not pay attention.” Draco watched as Potter didn’t even look up at that, having to be elbowed by the mud- by the buck-tooth muggleborn girl. ‘As brainless as a house elf.’ Draco swore.
Snape almost glided across the ground, crossing his black sleeved arms and looking down his hooked nose at Potter. “Mister Potter, our new — celebrity.” He said the word ‘celebrity’ as if it was the worst word he could utter, spitting it out at Potter.
“Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?” Snape fired the question quickly, as if firing a cutting curse to Potter.
Potter was silent for a moment, looking at the buck-tooth girl next to him, whose hand had shot up almost instantly, before looking back up at Snape. “You don’t know? Well, let's try again. Where would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?”
“I-I don’t know, Sir.” Potter said in a meagre voice, looking embarrassed and slightly flushed. The girl’s hand rose again, looking a bit more desperate this time.
“And what — is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?” Snape’s glare seemed to only grow stronger with each question, however Draco could feel the pleasure radiating off of the professor.
“I don’t know, sir.” At this point the girl was practically jumping at the chance to answer, her hand practically waving.
“Pity.” Snape said, but Draco knew he meant the exact opposite, “Cearly, fame isn’t everything.”
His gaze went to Draco, making him sit up a bit straighter and prepare himself. “Mister Malfoy, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?” Many heads, including Potter’s, turned to Draco.
“A Draught of Living Death, Professor.” Draco practically preened, loving every bit of the attention directed at him.
“Correct, and where can I find a bezoar and what would I need one for?” Snape questioned, gliding back to his original spot he had taken when had first stormed into the room.
“In the stomach of a goat, sir, and it can be used to treat and cure many poisons.” Draco quickly fired back, knowing his godfather was proud.
“Correct again, Mister Malfoy. And what, pray tell, is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?” The potions master asked, raising an eyebrow.
“There is none, they’re the same thing, just different names.” Draco shot back, smirking ever so slightly.
“Once again — correct, ten points to Slytherin for being prepared and reading the subject material. Potter,” Snape turned his gaze back to Potter, ”ten for coming unprepared, perhaps you will learn your lesson.”
Draco knew all the Slytherin’s were silently celebrating because almost all the Gryffindor’s growled at the injustice, cementing Snape as the Slytherin favourite and the Gryffinor enemy. However Draco knew that the same ire would be turned to him from the lions.
~3~
Potions was just as amazing as Draco had hoped, Snape had gone over the rules of the lab and how to do certain techniques when preparing the materials for the potion. Such as cutting, how to cut, how to peel, what techniques are better for what result, etc.
Most of the advice was similar to what Severus had given Draco in the past, but it was no less amazing. He complimented the Slyterhin’s skills and insulted the Gryffindor's sloppy technique when it came to practising.
All and all it was by far Draco’s favourite class he had attended so far at Hogwarts.
The bell chimed three times, marking the end of the lesson, causing all the students to quickly gather their things and begin to leave. Draco quickly finished putting his things up and shouldering his bag before looking up, only to be shocked with who was standing in front of him.
“Erm– Hi Draco.” Potter greeted shyly, shifting on each food nervously.
‘Did he apparate across the room? And why is he using my given name?’ Draco questioned as he glanced back to where Potter had been. Pleasure swirled to the surface of his stomach as he saw Weasley’s green, slightly nauseous face.
“Potter.” Draco greeted smoothly, straightening up to full height. He knew that most of the room had to be watching, holding their breath to see what would happen in this confrontation. However, before it could go any further from greetings, Draco’s name was called from the front of the room.
“Mister Malfoy, please stay behind for a moment.” Snape called, moving to sit at his desk and sitting down in his high back chair. Potter threw a glance to Snape before looking at Draco and then down at the ground, looking thoroughly dejected. He all but ran back to his Gryffindor friends and away from Draco.
Blaise and Pansy quickly looked to Draco for a moment, as if silently asking what their next move was. “You two go on.” Draco shooed, his stomach bubbling with displeasure and curiosity as his thoughts ran without control. ‘What was Potter going to say? Was he going to declare that we are enemies? That I am an evil snake? That he hates me?’
“We’ll save you a seat in Charms, Dray.” Pansy comments, collecting her own bag before turning and leaving. Blaise nods silently before following her out.
Soon all of the students have left, including Potter and his cronies, prompting Draco to move to stand in front of Snape’s desk. “Yes, Professor?” Draco asked, trying to shake thoughts of Potter from his mind.
“Your mother asked me to check in, to see how you were adjusting to Hogwarts.” Severus immediately asked, without prompt or fluff. Draco always thought it was refreshing, it was so unlike the long lectures his father would give him. "Narcissa and Lucius have both asked that I keep an eye on you while you are here. That you are making friends with the right sort." Severus explains, straightening his papers on his desk.
"That is very generous of you, Professor." Draco stated neutrally, although inside he was throwing a right for. 'I am eleven! Haven't they the faith in their teachings and my education that I know who the correct sort is!' Draco fumed internally.
Snape looked down at Draco for a moment before saying, "I am pleased that you heeded my advice in reading your textbooks before the new year started."
Draco inclined his head ever so slightly, silently thanking the Potions Master. "It's only because of your suggestion that I thought to do so. Otherwise that Muggleborn would be the only one who did." Draco scrunches up his nose a little at the embarrassment he would've felt if he hadn't heeded Snape's advice. He definitely would not understand what was going on in DADA.
"Um- Uncle Severus?" Draco mumbled out tentatively, if a bit shyly.
"Mister Malfoy, you must address me as your professor while at school. If anyone knows that you are my godson then they will accuse me of playing favourites." Snape corrected and explained sternly, making Draco feel even smaller and younger.
"But Un- I mean Professor, everyone already knows you favour the Slytherins! What's so wrong if they think you favour me? Why does it even matter!" Draco rushed forward to say, whining a bit and stomping his foot. He didn't understand his Uncle's logic, why hide something when it doesn't matter!
Snape didn't seem impressed by his whining, in fact he looked the opposite of impressed. "I have a reputation to uphold, Draco, so yes it does matter and that's final." His tone was a mix of scolding and annoyance, as if Draco was nothing but a nuisance. It was refreshing.
He had grown up in a house where emotions were to be hidden, so Draco always felt refreshed to be able to see Snape’s emotions. Even if most of those emotions were an act and mask of its own.
Draco knew, although he wasn’t happy about it, that Snape was right. “Yes, Professor.” Draco grumbled slightly.
“Now you will come to my office every Wednesday during your free period for the weekly check-in your Mother has requested.” Snape instructs as he summons a blank piece of parchment and begins to scribble on it. “Now off you go to Charms, give this to Filius.” He spells the ink dry before handing Draco the parchment, silently shooing Draco off with a glare.
Draco quickly turns and goes to the heavy wooden door. “And Mister Malfoy?” Snape calls just as Draco’s hand touches the handle of the door.
“Yes Professor?” Draco turns quickly to face Snape.
“Tell those two buffoons, Mister Crabbe and Mister Goyle to not be so obvious in their waiting next time.” Snape orders, nodding to the now obvious shuffling noises that came from outside the door. ‘How did I not hear those before?’ Draco questioned as he pulled open the door to two red faced idiots.
“Really?” Draco questions, raising a single eyebrow, trying his best to emulate Snape’s unimpressed look.
“We wanted to wait for you.” Crabbe grumbled out a little, looking a bit like a crup.
“You needn’t do so, after all I am more than capable of walking myself to class.” Draco complains as he leaves the potions classroom, waving to Snape and closing the class door in the process.
Crabbe and Goyle all but trip over themselves to follow. “But we wanted to!” Goyle’s voice takes on an almost pleading tone. “Plus we had to make sure Potter didn’t stay behind and hurt you!” That gave Draco pause, making him stop just before the set of stairs out of the dungeons.
“What?” Draco was shocked for two reasons. One, Crabbe and Goyle really put two and two together that Potter obviously wanted to accost Draco? And two, Potter really hated him that much that he was willing to be late to his own class to hurt him?
“Pansy told us to stay behind and watch out for you.” Crabbe noted helpfully, resolving one of the reasons. After all, she may be annoying but she was dead smart when it came to reading people and their intentions.
“And she said exactly that he wanted to hurt me?” Draco questioned, hoping beyond hope that Pansy had said otherwise.
“Well- no, but what else would he want? He’s a Gryffindor.” Crabbe said, as if explaining the obvious. ‘Of course it’s obvious, Malfoy. Potter is a Gryffindor and you are a Slytherin, you are meant to hate each other and want to hurt one another. Even Crabbe and Goyle know this.’ Draco thought despairingly.
“Right, of course.” Draco comments lightly, his heart caught up in a storm of pain, before moving to walk up the stairs.
‘I only want to be his friend’ A small, naive part of Draco whispered inside his brain.