Chapter 4: Potions

     Severus was aggrieved that he would not have an opportunity to further investigate his mysterious visitor until later into the week. As much as he wanted to ignore voices in the dark -and at the head table for that matter- he couldn't help but pay extra attention to Quirrell as the week wore on. So far, the only things that stood out about Quirrell were his gross ineptitude and his horrid stench. Plus, the man appeared to be on the brink of a nervous breakdown; if he were to be at the center of any nefarious plot, he would probably die of fright well before the plan was carried out.

     The first week of school was always the busiest and right now he had his first class of Gryffindor/Slytherin first years to contend with. Mentally going through the list of students, Severus cringed at more than one name. Draco Malfoy, while intelligent, was truly a pretentious little bugger, and Severus found himself grinding his teeth every time he had to interact with the obnoxious youth. 'If that child starts one more sentence with "My father", I run the risk of cracking one of my teeth'. Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle seemed to take after their fathers with their blank personalities and troll-like intelligence. He'd already heard tales of the know-it-all Granger chit. There was another Weasley to put up with, of course. Although, he hated to admit it, but he actually enjoyed the twin Weasley juvenile delinquents,’ they are quite talented even if they are annoying.’  He would never admit it out loud, however, even under threat of cruciatus. There was then, of course Potter. The rest of the professors raved about him. Everything from "he is just like is father" to "what a polite, eager boy". Severus couldn't help but think that being “polite” and “just like his father” were mutually exclusive.

     The only thing that Severus had to look forward to would be pulling the rug out from underneath the spoiled Potter brat. Potter may get by on just his name and a smile in every other class, but Severus would simply not stand for it. By the end of class today, Potter would know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that fame clearly isn't everything.

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      The first few days of term had passed quickly for Harry. So far, the only class that he did not enjoy was Defense Against the Dark Arts. When he first went into the class, he had thought that it would be his favorite. Unfortunately, not only was the class boring, but something about the room gave him a splitting headache. He was not sure if it was the smell, the Professor's stuttering, or the fact that he spent most of the class mentally dissecting Quirrell and looking for something off.

     Harry had taken the warning from his life-long friend to heart. He knew that she only appeared when he really needed her so there must be something important about Professor Quirrell that he needed to watch for. Harry wished he could share his concerns with someone, but he doubted that anyone would take seriously the warnings from what they would think of as his imaginary friend. He knew she was more than that, though. She had been with him for what he was sure was his entire life. She could not have possibly come from his imagination. Not only could he physically feel her presence at times, but she would sing him songs that he had never heard before. Most importantly, he now realized that his friend was a witch. When she had saved him from falling down the stairs last year, she had pointed a stick at uncle Vernon. He now knew that stick was a wand; and whatever she had said to Vernon must have been a spell. All that he could remember was that it sounded like 'oblivion' and it had caused Vernon to act confused and forget the past five minutes.  He knew that uncle Vernon never did remember that space of time; Harry definitely would have been punished had he remembered. So the fact that she was a witch was another clue he could use to try and figure out who she was. Unfortunately, instead of helping, that clue just seemed to change the mystery from a hundred piece puzzle to a thousand piece puzzle.

     Harry was now walking to his first Friday morning class; double potions with the Slytherins. He was actually looking forward to the class. He assumed that it would be a lot like cookery and Harry really liked to cook, especially when he got to eat what he had made. 'I wonder if we get to use whatever me make' Harry mused. Admittedly, he found the potions professor a bit scary, but he knew that appearances were not everything. His relatives appeared to be perfect to everyone around them, but that definitely wasn't the reality.

     Ron did not have anything positive to say about the upcoming potions class, so Harry just nodded each time Ron paused in his complaints. Harry really liked Ron, he was very earnest and seemed to like Harry for himself; Ron just did not strike him as very studious so Harry knew not to take his complaints about classes and professors too seriously. Harry thought he himself was pretty smart. He didn't think he compared to the Granger girl, but he also knew he could do much better than Dudley's appalling grades. He finally had the opportunity to apply himself being that the Dursley's were unlikely to ever ask about his grades and even if they did, they would have no idea what they meant. The only issue Harry had faced so far was the lack of summer preparation for his classes but that was unavoidable being that his uncle had locked all of his new things in the closet before he had even left the foyer.

     Leading Ron toward a seat in the front of the class, Harry made his way to a worktable. "Why do we always have to sit in the front of the class?" Ron grumped. "Because it is easier to see the board from the front" "Whatever mate, don't blame me if we end up the center of attention."

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     Severus Snape waited under a disillusionment charm outside of the classroom door until the exact start of class. One of his few joys in life was frightening the moronic first years. When class was due to start, Severus burst through the classroom door, his robes billowing behind him. With a negligent flick of his hand, he wandlessly made the door slam shut behind him. Taking stock of the students' chosen seating arrangement, Severus strode to the front of the classroom and began his favorite speech. 

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses.... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death -- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach." (Philosopher’s Stone, pg. 110)

     As he neared the end of his speech, Severus noticed that the Potter brat was busy scribbling on his parchment. 'Unbelievable, passing notes on the first day of class.' Severus finished his speech and immediately and spun on Potter. "Tell me Potter, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" I don't know sir. "Of course you don't" Severus replied mockingly. "Where would you look if you needed to find a bezoar?” “I don’t know sir.”

     "Clearly, fame isn't everything, Mr Potter". As soon as he had finished his mocking of Potter, Severus saw a sight he never thought he would see again. Not three feet in front of him stood Lily Potter. An obviously infuriated Lily Potter. Severus could practically feel the blood rush from his head as he took in her visage. Thoughts were galloping through Severus' mind, 'How is this possible? Is she really there? Is she a figment of my imagination?' He had not moved or taken a breath since the image of Lily appeared in front of him.  Apparently, he had stood in shock for a noticeable amount of time because the spawn of his hallucination asked "Are you alright, Professor?" Without a second thought, Severus snapped "Detention Potter!" As soon as the words had left his mouth, the image of Lily scowled and flickered. At the same instant, Severus startled then spun around quickly to look at the area behind him when he heard the sound of shattering glass.  He walked over to his desk, the source of the noise, and found that his inkwell of red ink had shattered and there were pieces of glass and red ink completely covering his desk. Even more of an oddity was the fact that there was not a single piece of glass or a drop of ink anywhere except for his desk. It was as though something made sure that the students would not be hurt in the explosion. Unable to contain himself, Severus, without turning to face the class again, roared "Out, get out all of you! Eight o’clock Potter!" A loud cracking was then heard as Severus' desk broke in half. By this point, the students were practically running to get out of the classroom.

     As Severus stood looking at the wreckage of his desk, his only thought was 'Apparently, my hallucination thinks I am in error.’
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     Harry, despite just being singled out and antagonized by his Professor, could not help but ask if he was alright. The poor man looked as if he had seen a ghost! Even after the professor gave him detention 'It seemed like a reflex for Professor Snape to give out detention anyway' Harry still could not find it in him to get upset; especially when the man seemed to startle then immediately spin around. Harry thought that he had heard glass shattering near the Professor's desk and was proven correct when the professor started stalking toward the desk. Three quarters of the class jerked in surprise when the professor started yelling for them to get out. When he reminded Harry of his detention, the class must have realized that the professor hadn't gone completely insane and so everyone thought it was in their best interest to leave before the professor started taking names.

     Harry had never seen students run, 'flee in terror would be more like it', out of a class so fast before.
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     After the last of the students had run out of the room, Severus was left staring at his desk in silent contemplation. 'That had to have been a true manifestation of Lily. Any hallucination conjured from my mind certainly wouldn't have made sure the students were safe in the midst of a fit of anger. But why would she be making her presence known now?' Suddenly Severus came to a realization and it made him feel as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped over his head. 'She has been here for weeks; the pleading whispers at night, the voice shouting a warning that only I could hear.' Severus wasn't sure if knowing the source of the voices made him feel better or worse.

     Out loud, Severus murmured "Well Lily, your memory has been haunting me for years, you may as well haunt me in reality."