Chapter 4
September 1990
The cold stone felt soothing against your warm forehead. Your wheezing fit hadn't lasted very long, but you were still thankful to have found the small recessed alcove in a small side corridor of the dungeon hallways.
You cursed lightly as you took another deep breath. Since you had been avoiding Snape and the dungeons, you hadn’t noticed when you ran out of Quicker Fix’er Elixir- the respiratory remedy you had created after suffering in the humid moldy air of the dungeons for years as a student.
“Ugh, but of course they had to have classes in dungeons. And the dungeons couldn't just be in the basement levels, no,” you gasped before sneezing into your open handkerchief ,”Ugh...it had to be.. dungeons under the damn lake.”
You cleared your throat and headed to the closest washroom to clean yourself up before walking to the potions classroom. It should already be empty for the day; you wanted to grab a few things to make a quick batch of your elixir before you meet with Snape. He wasn’t very keen on your sneezing fits as a student, you figured his sentiments hadn’t changed.
Unfortunately, you were so preoccupied with your thoughts, you didn't realize the classroom door was unlocked and still in use until you walked in and forty pairs of eyes were on you.
“Professor [Last Name]. You're early.” came Snape’s cold voice from the front of the room.
The glare he directs your way is enough to make the class turn back to the cauldrons in front of them.
You swallow dryly, the familiarity of his glare causing your heart to race.
But no, you aren’t going to let this happen. You aren’t a terrified first year. Thinking fast, you slap on a big smile and stride up to the front of the class to stand with him.
“If anything I’m late! It's a big group here- I’ll be helping supervise while we make,” you took a quick glance at the closest table's ingredients, “our Wit-Sharpening Potion.”
Snape opened his mouth to speak, but a messy haired Ravenclaw beat him to the punch. “Aren’t you normally in the greenhouses though, Professor [Last Name]?”
You recognized the voice- that very same Ravenclaw had been given detention the first day of Herbology for sneaking off to feed canned beans to one of carnivorous plants.
The little shit.
“I like to help out Professors Sprout and Juniper when I can. You’ll all be seeing more of me in the dungeons from now on.”
You were careful to avoid the hard look Snape was giving you as you set your bag on a chair by his desk.
“Instructions for the Wit-Sharpening Potion start on page sixteen of your text; you'll do well to read it carefully and be precise. The benefits of a well crafted potion will be two-fold; a decent grade and one less class full of ninnies to teach.” Snape instructed curtly while walking towards you.
“Don’t you know your own department's schedule?” He hissed as the students began to collect ingredients from the shelves.
You kept your eyes towards the class and responded in a low voice.
“Yes I do, not that you were exactly forthcoming with that information. I guess i just… thought it was Wednesday.” you answered sheepishly. “Besides, with a class this size- what, almost forty students? It’d be difficult for anyone to handle. I’ll help you keep an eye on everyone. Make sure nothing gets blown up.” You didn't give him a chance to object and started towards the student tables.
You watched closely and answered questions as you walked along. Students you recognized from Herbology and the green houses greeted you warmly and looked thankful that you were there. It was nice to feel welcomed.
Everyone seemed to be on the right track, measuring correctly, stirring the bubbling cauldrons at the right speed. You turned to head back to the front of the class when you noticed a boy shake a measure of powder into their mix. The powder dissolved into the brew and the bubbling cauldron belched a puff of sour smelling brown smoke.
A look of panic set on his face and he looked around the room frantically, hoping Snape hadn't noticed.
It was unsettling how fast the same feeling came back to you- how very familiar you were with the panic and dread after making a mistake in potions class.
You quickly moved to the boys desk and looked down at the neat and tidy workstation. Definitely not a careless mistake, he obviously was meticulous about his work.
“Armadillo bile!” The boy's eyes were pleading, “It was only armadillo bile like the book says.”
“But not powdered bile. Why did you grab that?”
The students nearby who had started looking over all had regular oozing armadillo bile in their measuring dishes.
“Well the carafe on the shelf was out. I figured it's the same thing so I could substitute.” The boy seemed embarrassed by all the attention and kept his head low.
“Hmm, yes that makes sense. A clever idea, but not quite enough. It’s not just about using the same ingredients, but about making sure it will create our intended finished product.” You measure out water into a clean dish and double the amount of the powdered bile into another, “The oozing armadillo bile works as a liquid binder- adding a powder would ruin the potions consistency.”
His eyes brightened and he grabbed a bowl and stirring rod. “Rehydrate the bile to make it the right consistency!”
“Yes exactly.” You grinned as he set to work, “It won't be perfect, but it’ll absolutely get the job done.”
You peered into his cauldron and noted the lovely bright green of his mix had turned into a dark sludge. “It's a shame such a good start had to go to waste.”
“It’s an inexcusable waste of materials.” Snape’s voice chided beside you.
You almost jumped- you forgot how good he was at moving soundlessly.
Snape looked down at the reconstituted bile with a scowl. “What is this mess Barnaby?” He snatched the bowl away and gave it a hard stir.
“Reconstituted bile, Professor.” the Hufflepuff offered weakly. “We ran out of regular.”
“I see.” Snape dropped the bowl back on the table. “Is this something you picked up from the text? Maybe you figured you could just throw anything together and hope it worked? Or do you just like wasting my materials and my time with your lazy, sloppy shortcuts?” He spoke at the Hufflepuff but his glare was directed at you.
Barnaby looked from Snape to you helplessly, not sure what to say.
You forced out the breath caught in your throat. You didn't understand- what exactly was he doing? Testing you? Daring you stand up to him? He was speaking at you like you were some sniveling kid in his classroom again.
“No matter, Barnaby. You’ve failed. Start cleaning up.”
“But that's not fair Professor!”
“You can’t do that Professor; it was my suggestion.” you forced yourself to answer brightly. You wouldn't let Snape just fail the kid. Especially since the whole thing had been your idea. “I think it's important to emphasize why our materials are prepared the way they are- how the integrity of the ingredient affects the end potion.”
“Stop.” His glare darkened and his voice was low. “It was Dumbledore who put you here, even after I insisted I did not want some useless underling making a mess of my classroom. It wasn’t enough for you to barge into my office and make demands. Or to arrogantly strut in here and play-pretend professor.”
You could feel your face burn in humiliation as he spoke; and that old familiar desperation to escape pulled at you, but you couldn't look away from his consuming tunnel-like eyes.
“I had hoped, at least, you would be able to keep the class stocked, but even that was just too difficult for someone who claims to have been skilled enough for my N.E.W.T. level classes.”
His voice stayed level and cold, but laid out everything he thought of you. Snape did not want you here and in fact resented the fact that Dumbledore thought he would need help. It was clear he didn’t trust you at all- he was completely suspicious that there would suddenly be an ex-student who he didn't remember, conveniently hired and placed in his department.
Suddenly it was very hard to breathe and the world started to swim. You took a deep breathe and steeled yourself to speak. “I was only trying to help. Barnaby was being resourceful, all he needed was a bit of extra guidance.”
A cold shill settled on your skin. You hoped desperately that your voice hadn’t faltered. It didn’t help that the sounds of the class had turned to loud static in your ears. “I’ve done plenty for this class and this department, but if I’m not welcomed, then I’ll leave.”
You turned on your heel and walked out of the classroom. In the empty hallway you realized your heart was pounding and the anxious dread crashed over you like a wave.
Okay, alright, the dungeon hallway was not the best place to have a panic attack. Time to get out of there.