Remedial Potions
Harry went to bed early that night and just sat in bed. He was pregnant. The restrictions on him were not going to be lifted. He wasn’t going to be able to be part of classes with everyone else. He was already kicked out of potions class. Defence he could stay in because Umbridge is an utterly useless teacher just meant to babysit them and push Ministry lies. He could still do everything in Care of Magical Creatures except to be near others wand work but was warned that as he got further along there would be more restrictions placed unto him. Transfiguration was affected in that he had to keep himself and his desk at least 8 feet from the others so as not to be exposed to others magic. Which just meant he was smooshed in the corner to the right of McGonagall. Apparently because of the type of magic that qualified as a charm most of that wasn’t a problem so long as people weren’t performing it on him. Divination and astronomy also weren’t affected. Herbology for the most part wasn’t affected so long as Harry never took off his gloves or otherwise let the magical plants touch his skin; however most of the dangerous ones required everyone to wear gloves anyway. Professor Sprout had told him that the thing was that most of the plants would probably be just fine to touch but that it hadn’t been tested or studied and it was better to be safe and be in the habit of not touching any of them.
The DA on the other hand will be a whole different beast. Last week's meeting had been cancelled because of the situation. He had worked with Hermione to get her capable of leading this week's meeting and together they wrote down a list of spells to ask Dr van der Meer if he could be around them during this week’s appointment. If he couldn’t he wasn’t sure what they were going to do. Some of the others had been helping to teach and tutor but no one in their year of the year above them that was in DA had as much talent, skill or practise with Defense.
Harry tried to keep himself thinking about how his classes and extracurriculars would be affected so he didn’t have to think about the other consequences. His sheer refusal to think about it made his sleep hard to come by. Eventually he began to contemplate what the Doctor and Madam Pomfrey had said.
If he got an abortion it was likely to react with the magic meant to keep him pregnant and it would destabilise his magical core as it lost something that anchored itself unto it. Which was the way the potion prevented miscarriages. Something attached to the magical core would be as stable as the magical core was. However it intertwined the two of them together and reshaped how his magical core interacted with everything.
So an abortion was off the table. He had to carry Malfoy’s child inside of him for at least 17 more weeks. He didn’t really know what being pregnant was like but he had a distinct feeling he wasn’t going to like it. The Doctor had told him not to decide now if he wanted to transfer the child to someone else come the eighteen week mark in case it was too risky but he decided now. He was absolutely going to do that. He couldn’t imagine being 6 or 9 months pregnant. He didn’t know much about pregnancy but no one had made it sound like a cake walk. He had always been rather glad that that was a women’s job and not his. Now here he is doing it.
Still too stressed to go to sleep, his mind pushed him towards the last thing he really didn’t want to think about.
No matter if there was a surregency transfer or not, in 9 months Malfoy and he would have a baby. Harry did want to have a family, he always had as the Dursleys never showed him any love, except up until now his idea of a family was his parents taking care of him. In their absence it was Sirius or the Weasleys. He tried to imagine himself with a family of his own in the way that Mr and Mrs Weasley had a family of their own. When thinking of it like that he didn’t hate the idea of a little baby in his arms. Babies were after all some of the best people. They didn’t do anything bad to you and were pretty cute and soft.
Even if it was Malfoy’s he would still love this baby. His baby. With that thought he finally had enough peace to get to sleep.
When everyone else in his year returned to potions class, Harry instead had a special meeting with the headmaster. He came into the room and Dumbledore offered him a seat. “Harry, we need to talk about your education. Tell me Harry, what did you know about potions before you came to Hogwarts?”
After fifteen minutes Dumbledore was able to conclude that Harry really had been failed educationally. He didn’t know better than to drink the potion and he didn’t know about the things he didn’t know. Part of the blame for what had happened to Harry rested on the school, Professor Snape and finally on the headmaster.
The potions curriculum at the school was lacking, not just lacking in a way that weakened the education of the students but that put their lives in danger. Hogwarts was responsible for teaching a bunch of children dangerous arts and not providing them with the proper safety for them. The further his conversation with Harry went the more he became aware that if this hadn’t happened something else would have. Harry Potter with a cauldron was a danger to himself and others.
Truly this should have become apparent with Hermione Granger’s mistake with polyjuice three years ago but it had seemed like so much less of an issue then. He had chalked it up to the girl having had one year of potions class and thinking herself infallible. He thought this would make the lesson crystal clear for her and that would be that. But this was a systemic issue.
Hermione Granger had not been the only one who had been failed. But rather, now that Harry Potter made the same mistake it was becoming quite clear that every muggle raised student who had gone to Hogwarts had had their education and their lives compromised. Dumbledore started to copy down notes. He was going to have an unbiased team research potions accidents and what the people who caused them lacked in education. If dumbledore had anything to say about it Harry Potter would be the last one anything like this ever happened to.
In the meantime he still had a student in his office. “Harry, we are going to have a special tutor work with you on your potions. I am truly deeply sorry this happened. This teacher is going to work with you in order to make sure you understand everything there is to know about potions. There is no rush here Harry. He truly is coming here for your benefit. Y’all will work at your pace. He will go however slow you need him to. Whatever confuses you he will make sure you understand before moving on. Harry, we will get you to where you should be regarding your potions education. I am sorry you are not there already. Hogwarts has failed you, and for that we will do whatever it takes to make it right.”
Harry'd been waiting for the other shoe to drop the whole time he was in the headmaster office. Every time he had talked with a professor recently it had been about how much of an idiot he had been. But Dumbledore didn't seem to be doing that.
“Does this mean I won’t be taking Potions with Professor Snape anymore?”
“That is correct Harry. You will remain with your personal tutor up to the point he deems you ready to return to normal potions classes if ever.”
Meanwhile everyone else was taking potions with Professor Snape. The lesson that morning had started with Snape sitting behind his desk as people arrived. There was some discussion amongst the students coming in. A loud boom resounded through the classroom. The door had been clapped shut by Snape’s magic.
He didn’t wait for the echo to stop to start speaking. “Everyone will take thorough notes today. Anyone seen not paying attention and not doing so will be forced into remedial lessons worse than what Mr. Potter is receiving.
“We are having safety lessons all this week. All absences will be noted. No student in this school is to make a potion for any reason until I say so. Any student caught with so much as a dirty cauldron will be sent straight to me. I care not about your house. Potions is my first love and I will see it taken seriously.
“I have been given the authority to expel anyone who does not treat potions with the respect it deserves. I will not hesitate to express this authority. Potions is one of the greatest forms of magic and I will not see it treated as just something to play around with.
“To give you even more reason to commit these instructions to memory you will be tested on this not only after we are done with the section but several times later possibly without warning.”
“Today I am going to go over some of the most dangerous potions ingredients and their proper handling procedures. This will not be an exhaustive list. It is merely to give you some respect for something a lot of you seem fine goofing off with.
First up we have the ferken. It can take the form of moss. Or the form of a plant. The moss goes between being red and green depending on the season and climate it inhabits. It is native only to Elven or formerly Elven territories. It feeds off of shed Elven parts, hair, nail clippings, dead skin. Anything it can get its hands on with Elven DNA in it. The magic inherent in Elven DNA turned this from a non magical plant, red snow algae, into the ferken plant. Its moss form was developed first then in areas of extra high magical concentration it produced a plant form.
“It is not dangerous to handle alone. It however is dangerous if you have something on your hands and then go to touch it. It is an incredibly reactive substance which is why very little of it is called for in the potions that use it. The amount used is incredibly sensitive. Using the wrong amount may result in a unique reaction but will most often just cause the potency of the potion to be incredibly skewed.
“As the incident with Mr. Potter shows I clearly overestimated your already slim intelligence, I will cover potency basics.
“Any potion meant to be drunk has an upper limit on how potent it can be and still produce the desired effect. If it is too little of an amount needed it may not be swallowed properly and some may get absorbed by the tongue or other parts of the mouth and oesophagus instead of being digested as desired. If an incredibly potent form is needed it is often made into a solid form instead of a liquid.
“There is no hard lower limit on how potent a potion meant to be drunk should be. However as the potency is decreased the amount needed to be taken is increased and the space needed to store it is increased. So normally potions are made to a medium to high potency.
“There is a hard lower limit on topical potions. The skin will only absorb so much so the strength of topical potions need to be able to fit entirely in what will be absorbed. There are many weak topical mixtures however these are lotions not potions. Any topical potion will be strong.
“Are there any questions on potion potency?” The room was silent. “I will give everyone one more chance to ask questions on this with the warning that now, and possibly never again in my classroom you may ask even the most ill-brained questions and I will give you nothing but an answer. If somewhere along in your education you have failed to grasp something you will ask it in these lessons. You will ask it now and I will not get angry, I will not take away house points, I will do everything in my power to make sure you understand before we move on. I will have no more accidents in my classrooms. Nothing like what happened to Mr. Potter will ever happen again, so long as I am breathing with the ability to move my limbs and use my wand.
“And if such a thing were to happen, which it will not, The student responsible would be hanged. Personally. By me. In doing so I would lose my teaching licence and I would rejoice in the knowledge that all future students would be taught a lesson that they would remember. So in that note, are there any questions on potion potency?”
The professor scrutinised the room. Eyes seeming to sear any skull they found. Time passed. The time at which a professor normally waits for questions had passed, and professor Snape’s timing had passed a long time ago. The Gryffindors didn’t dare breathe differently, scared that Professor Snape would call on them. The room was still silent. Snape seemed to be done with his second grilling of the room and moved on to the next topic.
At lunch that day everyone was furious with Harry Potter. Any residual joy from the days without potions class was completely wiped from people’s minds. For almost everyone that class had been the most boring thing ever. And unlike Professor Binns’ lessons Snape was watching for anyone who seemed the slightest bit distracted and then he had taken house points. He had caught Lavender Brown with doodles on her paper and given her detention. Well it hadn’t exactly been detention. She was going to another set of safety lessons. The class was divided on whether or not that's better or worse.
Harry sat down next to Hermione and Ron and started to add items to his plate. He started to explain the details of his meeting with the headmaster. Hermione asked him plenty of questions he was supposed to ask his new teacher. Harry made note that he should ask his new teacher some questions, but didn’t pay too much attention to what she said he should ask. He honestly was just trying to get through the day. Dean Thomas had just finished berating him for making everyone go through the awful lesson that morning.
As he was walking to class he passed Zacharias Smith and someone he didn’t know. As they finished walking past he heard Smith say “I didn’t realise the killing curse causes retardation, but I guess everyone else died before it could manifest.” It was like what he’d heard at lunch but a little more venomous, especially as it came from a Hufflepuff who was part of Dumbledore’s Army.
Harry had been hearing awful things about his mental status all year. Most were just that he was crazy. Some insinuated that he killed Cedric. Some that he was doing it all to get more attention. This had been particularly hurtful. The r-word was a favourite of Dudley’s and his friends. He always reassured himself that the people at Hogwarts saw his true self and didn’t think that about him.
Hearing bad things about him from members of the DA hurt especially as they believed him when he talked about Voldemort. So it was to say that even if everything you say is true. You’re still a crappy person.
Before dinner that evening Harry met up with Ron and Hermione where he filled them in on what had happened in the hospital wing a couple days prior. He hadn’t wanted to talk about it but on their insistence they sat down in a vacant classroom, cast some privacy wards and began to talk. In the end they couldn’t give him anything except a little bit of commiseration. Hermione encouraged him to be excited about getting a new potions teacher. Other than that there wasn’t much to say.
He went to bed that night straight after dinner tired of being blamed for potions class. It was too early to sleep so he pulled out some of his homework and worked for a half-hour. Once he had done divination to his satisfaction, something dire about himself or his friends on every question, he laid down and tried to bully his brain into letting him sleep.
It was still too early to sleep but he just couldn’t talk to anyone right now. He looked at the ceiling. ‘Could I take care of this baby?’ it was his flesh and blood so surely that would count for enough to keep the blood wards going and he wouldn’t have to stay with the Dursleys. Sirius would help him, he imagined. He could go to Grimmauld place and they could look after it. ‘In nine months time it would be…’ Harry pulls out his hands. ‘February, March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October.’ He would have the baby some time in October. He had the entire summer to work out a way to do this with Sirius. He could keep his baby with him. He didn’t need to give up the only genetic family he has. He could do it. He didn’t need to send the baby for adoption.