Tutoring Time II

The door to the Potions classroom was open when you arrived. You stepped inside and surveyed the silent, empty room as you set your bag on your usual table at the front. There was an eerie quiet to the room when no one was around. The tables were unoccupied and the cauldron stands were vacant. Various jars of ingredients lined the shelves. Some of them were bubbling.

You made your way across the room to Professor Snape’s office door and gave it a firm knock.

“Professor Snape!” you called through the door. “I’m here for the scheduled tutoring session!”

There was no answer.

Was the Potions professor really allowing you unsupervised access to his classroom?

“There he is, lads, the Potions Prince of Slytherin!”

You turned to see all four of the first year Hufflepuff boys standing at the door. It was Wayne Hopkins, the half-blood, who had spoken.

“Is this the part where we’re supposed to grovel at his superior sacred bloodline?” the tanned and dark-haired half-blood continued.

Well, this was off to a promising start. But you just got the better of the Queen Bitch Pansy Parkinson so you weren’t about to back down from a pack of ‘Puffs.

“No, it’s 1994, these are modern times,” you returned, “I’ll settle for a simple neck bow. If it’s good enough for the Queen of England then it’s good enough for me.”

“Christ, you’re arrogant!”

“You started it,” you grumbled under your breath. That’s what you got for playing along.

“The Smith Family can trace itself back to Helga Hufflepuff,” Zacharias Smith proudly interjected. “And the last Hogwarts Potions prodigy was a Hufflepuff. You’re not that special, Gaunt!”

“Yes, Penny Haywood, I’ve heard,” you replied. “But she graduated so you’ll just have to make due with me. Your Head of House didn’t seek me out for my bloodline. She came to me because I’m top of our year in Potions.” You paused and allowed that to sink in then decided to address the presence of the other three boys. “Now, Professor Sprout informed me that I was only going to be tutoring Finch-Fletchley. Or are all of you struggling in Potions?”

“You think we’re going to leave our muggleborn friend alone in the dungeons with you, prince of the prejudiced purebloods?” Macmillan questioned. The Macmillans were always a pro-muggle family so it actually didn’t surprise you to see the latest Macmillan defending his muggleborn housemate. He and Smith took a step forward while Hopkins hung back and stayed beside Finch-Fletchley.

“Oh please,” you scoffed, “Not one but TWO Heads of House know we’re supposed to be down here together. If I did something to him, everyone would know it was me. If your friend tripped and fell down the stairs on the way here, I’d still likely get blamed for it.”

You took a step forward and stared past the other boys at the silent one you were there to see. “Well, are you going to say anything or are you just going to stand there while your friends take potshots at me?”

The muggleborn boy blinked in surprise, “You actually want to hear what I have to say?”

“I wouldn’t have agreed to this in the first place if I wasn’t,” you pointed out. “I’m not the one who brought up blood status. Your friends did.”

You waved your hand at the three other boys, “You Hufflepuffs have got the whole loyalty thing down… now how about the hard working part?” You shifted and focused back on the dark-haired muggleborn boy. “Professor Sprout assured me that you’d take this seriously and would be willing to put in the work. Are you? Because if not, we can call this whole thing off and stop wasting everybody’s time.” For some reason Finch-Fletchley flinched at that last bit about wasting time. “I’m here for tutoring. If the four of you feel more like fighting then we can all go back upstairs, I’ll grab Bulstrode, Nott, and Zabini, and we can all have ourselves a nice four-on-four duel out on the grounds.” Crabbe and Goyle probably would’ve been game but you didn’t quite trust them enough yet to have your back in a duel. “I’m not quite as skilled in Defense as I am in Potions but I’m sure I could still teach you something.”

You watched Finch-Fletchley’s reaction and saw his expression waver and then harden. “I’m willing to put in the work,” he insisted. “Potions is my worst subject. I want that to change.”

You nodded. “Then that’s all I needed to hear. Pick a table and set up your stuff. We’re in here so I can assess, and hopefully improve, your brewing skills.” Finch-Fletchley nodded and brought his school bag over to the table behind the one yours was on. You turned to address the other three Hufflepuffs. “If you three are still concerned for your friend’s safety, you can stay and watch. I’m not going to do anything to him so it probably won’t be overly interesting.”

Zachariah Smith seemed like the only one who still wanted to fight. But he glanced around and saw that you had done a decent job of quelling the Hufflepuff uprising. He huffed and called out, “Watch yourself, Gaunt!” And then stalked out of the classroom.

But Macmillan and Hopkins stayed behind. They had their own school bags with them and set them out on the table behind their house mate’s. You kept an eye on their reactions and noted that they almost looked pleased to see Smith go. You quickly likened the blonde ‘descendant of Helga Hufflepuff’ with your own blonde roommate - a bit full of himself and annoying to be around all the time… but he had his redeeming qualities and was more than willing to have your back in a potential confrontation with Harry Potter and the other Gryffindors. Although, with Draco that was really just an excuse for him to have a go at Potter. But then you quickly realised that was exactly why Smith had come along. Only in this case, the Boy-Who-Lived was replaced with the pureblood descendant of Salazar Slytherin.

You went to the table your things were on and leaned back against it while Finch-Fletchley finished setting up his cauldron. “Did you cover the Wiggenweld Potion at the end of last term?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “Snape sprang it on us as a surprise exam two days before we left.” You knew you were the reason for that ‘surprise exam’. It seemed that, even though your double Potions class with the Gryffindors was on Friday morning, the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws still had one last class with Professor Snape before the students officially left the castle for winter break on Wednesday the twenty-second. Two days before that meant their Potions class with the Ravenclaws was on Monday. And since you had Herbology with the Ravenclaws as your first class on Monday morning that likely meant the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws had double Potions with Professor Snape on Monday afternoon.

Ugh. You didn’t envy the Hufflepuff first years. Since last term started on a Monday, that meant the Hufflepuffs had Potions on their first full day at Hogwarts. Not a brilliant way to start your school career. You only did so well in that first Potions class because you basically had the full week to prepare.

(A/N: The more detail oriented readers might eventually notice a slight time paradox in there. The reason for that is because I started writing this branch back before I did my two year age boost. September 1st 1991 was a Sunday and therefore I had classes start on Monday. But then I boosted everyone’s ages by making Hogwarts start at age 13. September 1st 1993 was a Wednesday which meant classes would’ve actually started on a Thursday. But I was already committed to my Monday to Friday schedule and didn’t want to go back and shift everything around. Please ignore that small, insignificant time issue that I just brought to everyone’s attention. It won’t be a problem going forward now that I’ve fully adjusted to the time change.)

“Let’s go over that one then, shall we?” you suggested. What better way to assure the skeptical Hufflepuffs of your Potions prowess than to cover a brew that you knew backwards and forwards. “How’s your supply of salamander blood?”

“Err…” the Hufflepuff boy went to his Potions kit and leaned in close to scan the vials of ingredients before he found and pulled out a mostly empty vial of crimson salamander blood. “It’s a little low.”

Without looking, you reached behind you and slipped your hand into your bag and found your Potions kit, which was one of the only things you packed when you left the common room. You felt through the differently shaped vials for a few seconds until you came to the one that you recognised as the exact size and shape as the one Finch-Fletchley was holding and pulled it out.

“Here,” you offered the surprised Hufflepuff your full vial of salamander blood. “I do a lot of brewing outside of class so I made sure to restock all my supplies during the break. Best advice I can give you for Potions class is to always be prepared. The instructions for the Wiggenweld Potion begin on page eighty-seven and carry over to page eighty-eight.”

Finch-Fletchley turned to the indicated page in his copy of Magical Drafts and Potions and started working. You kept a close watch and assessed his brewing skills as he prepared the green initial mixture. Macmillan and Hopkins had brought out some homework and would occasionally look up to watch you watch their friend.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting when Professor Sprout recruited you to tutor her struggling Hufflepuff but Justin Finch-Fletchley actually WASN’T a bad brewer. His movements were slow, measured, and extra cautious. Like someone who messed up frequently and was being extra careful to compensate. He would occasionally whisper to himself under his breath like he was repeating advice other people had given him.

“Let me guess,” you said as you glanced past Finch-Fletchley at the two boys behind him. “You lot tried to help him before Professor Sprout came to me?”

“Of course, we did,” Macmillan answered, “But Snape’s had it out for Justin since day one!”

“He treats him like he’s an idiot,” Hopkins added.

“Professor Snape treats everyone like they’re an idiot,” you countered. “Although, I think he prefers the term ‘dunderhead’. It’s up to you to prove that you aren’t one.”

“Well Justin isn’t an idiot or a dunderhead,” Macmillan insisted. “He writes some of the best essays in our year. He’s helped me with mine loads of times. And he never shies away from a reading assignment.”

Ah, a hard-working and studious Hufflepuff.

Well, that was certainly an interesting development. You often found yourself curious who Professor Snape went after in other classes without prime targets like Potter and Longbottom. It seemed as though you found your answer.

You watched as Professor Snape’s least favorite first year Hufflepuff added the first dose of salamander blood and were reminded of your earlier tutoring session with Gemma as the mixture slowly turned red. He stopped at the appropriate time and then started to stir the potion as it slowly began to lighten and turn orange.

“Ah-ah,” you interrupted when he picked up the salamander blood again. Too early. “Is that the right shade of orange?”

“What?” Finch-Fletchley flinched again and looked up with a frantic expression as if he was expecting to be harshly berated and still wasn’t fully used to it. Hopkins and Macmillan tensed and looked up too.

“Check the color wheel at the back of your book,” you calmly instructed Finch-Fletchley as he nervously flipped pages. “You might want to bookmark that page. It’s incredibly useful. Especially with this potion and all the color changes it goes through.”

Normally, you’d use the Colour Change Charm to demonstrate but you didn’t think the three tense Hufflepuffs would react positively to you drawing a wand.

Finch-Fletchley reached the right page and you saw his eyes go wide when he compared it to the potion and realised his mistake. “It’s tangerine.”

You nodded. The three other boys were still tense, almost as if Finch-Fletchley getting yelled at for a small mistake was a regular occurrence. Knowing Professor Snape and how he tended to focus on his preferred targets -- it definitely was.

“It’s alright,” you did your best to reassure him. “Goyle, my usual Potions partner, has trouble distinguishing shades of orange too. You’ll want to stir it a bit more. The trick to this potion is recognising when it’s the right color. Best to keep the color wheel open in order to help with that.”

The muggleborn boy went back to stiffly stirring his potion.

And you suddenly realised why you were there.

Justin Finch-Fletchley didn’t really need your help in Potions. There were dozens of much friendlier Hufflepuff students, both in his year and older, who probably could’ve helped him there. He needed help dealing with Professor Snape.

It was actually a small blow to your ego now that you realised you actually hadn’t been sought out for your Potions skills. Professor Sprout recruited you because you were Professor Snape’s ‘so-called’ favorite. If you couldn’t help her student improve in the eyes of Professor Snape then no one could. And as an added bonus, she even called Professor Snape’s attention to your tutoring session with the request to use his classroom

“Well played, Professor Sprout, well played,” you mentally praised the surprising Head of Hufflepuff House. Your opinion of the woman actually went up a few notches in light of such a cunning plan.

You silently watched as Finch-Fletchley picked up salamander blood and started to add it to the now properly orange potion. He actually seemed like he was relaxing just a tiny bit. Not having Professor Snape around will often have that effect on someone. The student from the black and yellow house kept a careful eye on his potion, glanced down at his open book once, and nodded when it was the right shade of yellow. He stopped adding the salamander blood and started stirring. He had to do that until the potion turned green.

“Ah, I see what your problem is,” you announced. It was time to address why you were really there. “You don’t need me so much for Potions. You need tutoring in how to deal with Professor Snape.”

“I told you,” Macmillan insisted, “Snape’s had it out for Justin since day one! He went after him before he even finished taking roll!”

So he got the Harry Potter treatment.

“Snape bullies him,” Hopkins added, “He treats him like an idiot and is always looming over him and all but breaths down his neck! And then when he makes the smallest mistake he yells at him in front of everyone!”

That explained why Finch-Fletchley was so flinchy. You wondered if he had ever melted a cauldron. Because it sounded like he was also getting the Neville Longbottom treatment.

“He’s not like any teacher I’ve ever had,” Finch-Fletchley quietly admitted as he continued stirring. “I turned down Eton for this!”

You blinked at the unfamiliar word. “What’s Eton?”

Finch-Fletchley took a deep breath and opened his mouth as if preparing for a speech. Macmillan and Hopkins rolled their eyes in a manner that told you they heard this explanation from their muggleborn friend loads of times.

“Wait,” you interrupted before he could start explaining. “Before you tell me, your potion’s the right shade of green. Why don’t you add the last dose of salamander blood and then, once it’s turquoise, you can put it on the fire and tell me while it’s heating.”

The muggleborn boy nodded as your practical suggestion. You watched as the potion went from green to turquoise blue before the Hufflepuff moved it onto the fire so it could heat until it turned indigo.

“Right then,” Finch-Fletchley resolved, “Eton College is a prestigious boarding school in Berkshire. It’s for boys from ages thirteen to eighteen. It was founded back in 1440 and is renowned for its academics and sports programs. Former graduates include Prime Ministers, world leaders, Noble Prize winners, and acclaimed actors. Getting in is highly competitive but I had my name down for years. I was set to go in September but then I got my Hogwarts letter. And while there was a history of old-fashioned corporal punishment at Eton, I can assure you that none of the teachers would be as abusive as Snape is.”

Eton sounded prestigious. From your limited experience, as an orphan who once lived in a giant boot, prestigious usually meant expensive. You reckoned that Finch-Fletchley’s muggle family had a lot of money if they could afford the tuition for such an expensive boarding school. Hogwarts wasn’t exactly cheap. That’s why your old orphanage could only send one student for each year. If the Finch-Fletchleys were well off that also explained why their son was so unprepared to deal with Professor Snape’s special brand of verbal and mental ****.

“Well, congratulations,” you said, “Eton sounds fancy. But… Hogwarts is even more exclusive. There are only a very select number of people in the world who can do what we do. And there are even fewer who can properly teach it. I understand that Professor Snape can be… abrasive and unnaturally aggressive.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Hopkins cut in.

“But as mere first years there is nothing we can do about it,” you continued. “Even if I banded together with your friend Smith as descendants of two of the four founders… we still wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. Professor Snape is…” you paused and thought about how to phrase it for the three Hufflepuffs who clearly saw no redeeming qualities in the man. “...a necessary evil that everyone at Hogwarts has to deal with. The better you are at that, the better you’ll be at Potions.”

Finch-Fletchley nodded but then he flinched again and jerked up so he was standing ramrod straight. Behind him, Macmillan and Hopkins scrambled to their feet when expressions that ranged from wary and nervous to defiant and outright hostile.

Only one person in Hogwarts could evoke such a reaction.

Unlike the three Hufflepuffs, you were actually a tiny bit relieved by Professor Snape’s sudden presence. It meant that if the four Hufflepuff boys had decided to attack you in favor of letting you talk them down that your Head of House would have come along eventually and found you.

But then the shouting started. And it was directed at you.

“Gaunt!” the voice of the necessary evil cracked across the room. “I was informed that this would be a one-on-one tutoring session… not a study hall!”

Flinch-Fletchley flinched again at Professor Snape’s loud voice. Even though the observation and demand for an explanation weren’t addressed to him.

“Keep your head down, focus on your potion,” you instructed. “It’s indigo now. Add the last dose of salamander blood. Compare it to the color wheel to ensure it turns the proper shade of pink.”

You took a breath and pushed off of the table you were leaning on and turned to face the Potions professor. “Good afternoon, Professor Snape,” you greeted him. “Thank you for allowing us to use the classroom today.” You tilted your head back at Macmillan and Hopkins. “They were worried about leaving their muggleborn friend alone in a dungeon with a descendant of Salazar Slytherin. I told them they could stay if they were so concerned.” You shrugged. “We can’t really blame Hufflepuffs for being loyal any more than you could blame me for being a Slytherin ambitious enough to accept this extra credit opportunity.”

“I suppose not,” Professor Snape slowly agreed. You saw his gaze subtly dip downward and turned around to check Finch-Fletchley’s potion. It was now the proper shade of pink.

“That’ll do it for the salamander blood,” you informed him. “Now let it heat until it turns red.”

Your nervous ‘student’ nodded silently and looked down to avoid the Potions professor’s probing gaze as he put down the vial of salamander blood. Finch-Fletchley clearly didn’t trust himself to speak in Professor Snape’s presence. That went for the other two Hufflepuffs too. Even Wayne Hopkins who seemed like the most hostile anti-Snape hater wasn’t saying anything now that the man was actually in the room.

“Hmph,” Professor Snape grunted bitterly. “I told Professor Sprout that this was a fools errand and that you’d be wasting your time. Finch-Fletchley lacks the focus and dedication to the field to be anything but a colossal failure.”

You watched as Flinch-Fletchley flinched again at Professor Snape’s barb while Macmillan and Hopkins looked close to drawing their wands. You suddenly understood why the muggleborn boy flinched earlier when you said the bit about ‘wasting everyone time’. That must have been Professor Snape’s favorite scathing comment for him.

“Making a proper Potioneer out of a fool like Finch-Fletchley would be a miracle beyond even your skills, Gaunt,” the Potions professor dismissively informed you. “I have work to do. See that I am not disturbed. When you’re done wasting your time here, be sure everything is properly cleaned or I’ll have all four of you spending the rest of your Saturday in detention cleaning the entire classroom.”

He stalked across the room and disappeared into his office.

You took a second to mentally translate the aggressive Snape-speak: “Justin Finch-Fletchley is easily distracted and doesn’t take the class serious enough for my liking.”

The distracted part you got. But it was hard to keep focused when you had an aggressive professor looming over you eager to admonish you for the smallest mistake. You needed to get to the root of the dedication and seriousness part. If you fixed the latter part then Professor Snape wouldn’t get on the boy’s case as much and thus wouldn’t distract him.

You turned and leaned back against your table again so you could survey the three Hufflepuffs, “Okay, what did you say?”

“What? Are you hearing things?” Finch-Fletchley questioned. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Macmillan said that Professor Snape has had it out for you from day one,” you reminded him. “I’ve been here long enough now to know that, unless your name’s Potter, Professor Snape doesn’t go after students with a vendetta unless he’s provoked.” You glanced down. “Your potion’s the right shade of red now. You can start adding the lionfish spines. Remember, it’s five at a time.”

“Do you have the entire recipe memorised?” Macmillan inquired.

“Of course,” you replied. “I study a lot, I practice and brew in my free time, I follow Professor Snape’s instructions as closely as humanly possible, and most importantly, I treat Professor Snape with the proper respect. That’s why I’m top of our year. Meanwhile, Longbottom was already a nervous wreck the second he walked into the classroom. He melts cauldrons and endangers the lives of everyone around him. Granger tries way too hard and often does too much. And Weasley makes snide comments under his breath that he doesn’t think Professor Snape can hear. But he can. Because Professor Snape has exceptionally good hearing.”

“Like a greasy dungeon bat,” Hopkins groused.

This time you flinched. “See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about!” You warily eyed the closed door to Professor Snape’s office. “He probably heard you. Professor Snape doesn’t tolerate any kind of disrespect. I bet that soon I’ll have to tutor you in Potions.”

“It’s hard to respect a man when he clearly doesn’t respect us,” Hopkins pointed out.

“He’s probably got it out for Justin because he’s a muggleborn,” Macmillan weighed in.

“That’s not it,” you said. “I had detention with Professor Snape after our first Potions class. He had no problem telling me that, after mine, the Cure for Boils brewed by the muggleborn team of Hermione Granger and Dean Thomas was the best of the lot. Try again.” You glanced at the brewing Wiggenweld Potion. “Let it heat until it turns yellow…”

By that point, you’d proven that you knew the Wiggenweld Potion like the back of your hand so he followed your instruction without question.

You nodded, “Now while that’s heating, I want all three of you to wrack your brains and think of anything Finch-Fletchley might’ve said in your first class that Professor Snape could have taken personal offense to.”

The three Hufflepuff boys pondered that for a moment but seemed puzzled.

“Okay, how about this?” you suggested, “How did your first class start?”

“It was our first class Monday afternoon,” Hopkins recalled. You nodded having already deduced when the first year Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw double Potions lesson took place. “Professor Snape came storming in and went after Justin before he even finished taking roll.”

Macmillan mentioned that earlier. Finch-Fletchley got the Harry Potter treatment. But something must have set Professor Snape off. You had no idea how long Professor Snape had been lurking outside earlier before he entered the classroom but you long suspected that he liked to eavesdrop on the class before making his grand entrance in all his cloak billowing glory. You hoped he hadn’t been offended by your ‘necessary evil’ comment.

“Think back to September,” you urged them. “What was the last thing Finch-Fletchley said before Professor Snape came in?”

“I think… he made a comment about cooking,” Macmillan imparted.

“Cooking?” you repeated with dread. Oh no. No no no.

“Right,” Finch-Fletchley agreed as he recalled the incident Macmillan mentioned, “I asked if the class was going to be anything like cooking.”

“Oh no, you didn’t!?” you gasped. “Please tell me you didn’t compare Potions to something as mundane as cooking while Professor Snape was within earshot.”

“What? I used to help my mum with cooking sometimes back home,” the muggleborn boy defended himself. Apparently, the Finch-Fletchleys weren’t so well off to have a cook working for them. “It was relaxing and she made it fun. I was actually looking forward to Potions class then. I was good at chemistry back in my old school so I thought Potions would be enjoyable.”

Bingo.

“Well, now we know why Professor Snape hates you,” you announced.

“I think both you and Snape are being overly dramatic,” Macmillan insisted.

You pushed off the table you were leaning on and approached Finch-Fletchley’s cauldron. You leaned around it and scooped up the second batch of five lionfish spines that he had set out and added them to the yellow potion.

“Look,” you said as you grabbed Finch-Fletchley’s flobberworm mucus and started adding it, “when you go home this summer… you could give your muggle mother, who I’ll assume is a good cook, this same cauldron, these same ingredients, and these same instructions… and I’ll GUARANTEE YOU that what she makes won’t be anywhere close to a proper Wiggenweld Potion. Do you want to know why?”

You noted that you had the attention of all three boys. The other two Hufflepuffs had given up on all presence of doing their own work. The potion was purple so you put down the flobberworm mucus and nodded to Finch-Fletchley. “Start stirring.” He grabbed his spoon and rushed to comply. “It’s not just the ingredients that are magic. Most people don’t realise this, but every time you stir your cauldron you’re adding just a little bit of your own magic to the potion. That spoon you’re using is made of wood. Just like your wand. Even though it doesn’t have a core, it still channels a tiny, subtle bit of your magic into the brew. That’s why there are some potions that require you to use a metal spoon at certain volatile stages so that you don’t add extra magic.”

The subject of channeling little bits of magic into a liquid-filled cauldron once again reminded you of your tutoring session with Gemma.

Finch-Fletchley blinked rapidly, “But… that’s backwards… with electricity… metal is a conductor and wood is an insulator.”

You leaned over the cauldron between you and stared the muggleborn boy dead in the eye and told him, “You’re down the rabbit hole now, Alice, things work differently here in Wonderland.”

He stared at you in shock as you stepped back. You couldn’t help the small grin that spread across your face as you realised that you’d just completely turned the muggleborn boy’s worldview on its head. He would never look at a cauldron the same way again.

Behind him, Macmillan and Hopkins also seemed similarly stupefied.

“Wow, Gaunt, you really know your stuff,” the shocked pureblood admitted. Oh, what’s this, it sounded like you’d earned some actual respect from the Hufflepuffs.

“Why doesn’t Snape cover this in class?” the half-blood blurted out.

“Potions is practical,” you replied. “We meet once a week for ninety minutes. That time is spent brewing. Your homework is where you’re supposed to go over the theoretical side. If you really want to get ahead in the class then you have to show some Slytherin ambition and do your own outside research.” You motioned to the red potion. “Back to work. Add flobberworm mucus until it turns orange.”

Your muggleborn ‘student’ stared at you as he picked up the vial of mucus. “You’re not what I was expecting, Gaunt.” He added the mucus and you were pleased to see that he recognised the proper shade of orange this time around. Then he picked up his spoon again and started stirring with much more care than he had been previously. “Why do you respect Professor Snape so much? You know, aside from the fact that he’s your Head of House and favors you.”

“First of all, every Head of House has their favorites and their way of dealing with them,” you pointed out. “Professor McGonagall bends rules and buys her favorite students expensive broomsticks. I don’t know what Professor Flitwick does for the Ravenclaws, but Professor Sprout goes out of her way to arrange tutoring sessions when you need help and actually seems to like you.” You paused for a moment as you thought of how to describe the final Head of House. “Professor Snape… gives points. But make no mistake, people may consider me his favorite, but to him I’m still just a stupid puppy that’s finally learned not to relieve himself on the carpet. That’s slightly better than the rest of you unhousebroken mutts so I get an occasional treat for what he deems good behavior. It seems a lot better to you but that’s because he tends to rub your noses in it when you have an accident.”

“Speaking of yellow liquids… what’s next?” Finch-Fletchley asked as he motioned to his yellow potion.

“Honey water until it turns turquoise,” you informed him. “And then a few drops of boom berry juice.” You watched him pick up the small bottle of honey water. “But you want to know what I respect about Professor Snape, specifically, and I’m assuming you mean aside from the fact that he knows his Potions inside and out, front and back, and every combination in between.”

“Er… yeah,” the no longer overly flinchy Finch-Fletchley replied as he put the stopper back in his vial of honey water then swapped out for the boom berry juice and added a few drops to his turquoise potion. “What…”

“Stir it another few times then lower the heat on your flame and let it simmer for thirty minutes,” you automatically prompted him while you thought over your other answer.

Hopkins and Macmillan were still listening in. It was clear that knowing his subject really well wasn’t enough to improve their opinion of the man that they saw as an abusive bully. But maybe, if you could foster a tiny iota of respect for your Head of House… then you might be able to build upon that and create a functional, or at the very least, civil relationship between the three children and the grown man who frequently acted like a child.

When the potion was simmering, you spoke. “Professor Snape saved my life last term.”

“What?”

“Really?”

“He seems the type to leave someone to die…”

“It was back in November,” you recounted. “I was suffering from a massive headache and tried to brew my own headache cure. But brewing made my headache even worse. Halfway through, I could barely even see straight. That’s when Professor Snape came in. He took one look at what I was brewing, then shoved me out of the way, and vanished the whole thing.” You changed the pitch of your voice and recited the harsh dressing down your Head of House had given you, “‘Gaunt, the only thing that mixture - because I wouldn’t deem to call something so subpar an actual potion - would do is scramble what’s left of your already addled brain.’ Professor Snape saved me from my own stupidity. If I actually drank that thing… it would’ve boiled my brain out.”

“Yeah but… you’re a Slytherin,” Macmillan pointed out. “It’s his job to keep an eye on you.”

“Okay, then how about this?” you offered. “I saw Professor Snape save Harry Potter’s life during that Quidditch match.”

“I thought Snape was the one trying to kill him,” Hopkins remarked.

“Everyone I talked to said Snape was the one jinxing the broom,” Macmillan added.

“He wasn’t,” you insisted. “I was watching the match with Omnioculars. When Potter’s broom started acting funny, I searched the stands to see if I could spot who was responsible. And I can assure you, I saw the proof that Professor Snape was casting a counter curse. If it wasn’t for him - the Hurling Jinx would’ve worked, Potter would’ve been thrown from his broom, and he probably would’ve died upon impact when he hit the pitch.”

“...” The three Hufflepuffs had been shocked silent.

“And that’s just the thing,” you added. “Professor Snape hates Potter more than anybody. But he still did his level best to save him. That tells me he would’ve done the same thing for anyone. I’ll tell you this… if another troll broke in and came after me like the one back at Halloween, and I only had time to call one staff member for help… I’d pick Professor Snape in a heartbeat. Because while I’m sure that someone like Professor Sprout would do everything in her power to defend me from the troll… I know that Professor Snape would use whatever means necessary to neutralise the threat so it could never hurt anyone again, regardless of what anyone thought of him afterwards.”

No one spoke for a moment but eventually Finch-Fletchley did.

“Alright, then what should I do?” he asked.

You lowered your voice in case Professor Snape was still listening in from the other room.

“We need to change Professor Snape’s opinion of you,” you whispered as you leaned over his simmering cauldron. “He takes things… very personally.” That was a nice way of saying Snape was a spiteful git. “Because of your cooking comment he doesn’t think you take his class seriously. We need to show him that you do.”

“And how do we do that?”

You sighed to yourself when you realised that this tutoring session couldn’t be a one-off thing.

“You and I will need to meet up regularly,” you quietly explained, “And we need to do it here where Professor Snape can see us to show him that you’re committed. If we stick with it, it will eventually have to sink in that you’re not wasting time but are instead using it to try and improve.”

Finch-Fletchley nodded, “Alright, I can talk to Professor Sprout to help arrange more sessions.”

You didn’t think the Head of Hufflepuff would be very hard to convince, considering she was the one who orchestrated this whole plan.

“The only catch,” you added when you remembered Marcus Flint’s threat from earlier in the week, “Is that I can’t meet up regularly until after the match against Ravenclaw.”

“I thought you were only a reserve?” Macmillan called you out.

“I am,” you agreed, “But Captain Flint’s **** to get out of last place so it’s all hands on deck. If we fail he’s likely to keelhaul the lot of us.”

“Wait a minute,” the muggleborn boy said as his eyes narrowed at your pirate speak, “Captain Flint? Was that a Treasure Island reference? First Lewis Carroll and now Robert Louis Stevenson? Your knowledge of classic literature suggests that maybe you don’t hate muggles as much as I was led to believe.”

“Slytherins are full of surprises,” you replied with a small smirk.

Once the Wiggenweld Potion finished simmering, you took it off the heat to cool and then poured it into a vial. You were pleased to see that it was properly green and well brewed. You probably could have done a better job by focusing on the minuscule details and using a few tricks you picked up last term but it was still done well enough that it would earn the Hufflepuff top marks… provided Professor Snape decided to grade it fairly.

Wayne and Ernest - or Ernie as he insisted he preferred to be called - helped you clean up as none of you wanted to suffer Professor Snape’s threat of cleaning the entire classroom in detention.

The three Hufflepuffs nominated you as the one to knock on Professor Snape’s door to tell him you were leaving. “Professor Snape, I don’t mean to disturb you, just informing you that we’re leaving. Thanks again for allowing us to use the classroom.”

You left the vial of completed and stoppered Wiggenweld Potion on Professor Snape’s desk as evidence of the successful tutoring session then all four of you filed out of the room.

“Well, see you next time, Eton,” you called out as you broke off from the Hufflepuffs in order to go deeper into the dungeons and return your Potions supplies to your dorm room.

“Yeah, see you around,” Justin returned. He paused for a moment and then added, “Louie.”

You shook your head at your new literary nickname. Earning those House Points from Professor Sprout was going to take a lot of work. But, she was the Head of Hufflepuff House, it wasn’t like you expected anything less.

Marvolo Gaunt House Point Ledger

Current Total: +71

Points awarded by: SS, RH, QQ, MM, FF, +AD