Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

Fall 1991

The first month at Hogwarts had been interesting for Harry. In addition to learning how to find his way around the castle, he was dealing with the having friends for the first time. Hermione would never let him or Neville copy, but if they let her read their homework, they always ended up with the right answers. Neville was very nice but very forgetful.

There were three other boys who shared the dorm with Harry and Neville. Ron was one of seven children, the youngest boy and sixth overall. His family were all wizards, except for maybe a second cousin or something. Seamus' family was half and half. His mother was a witch, his dad a Muggle. Dean's mum was a Muggle, but he didn't know his dad, he left when Dean was very young. Dean was obsessed with football. He had a Westham poster above his bed. Seamus didn't understand how any sport could be exciting when nobody was flying. No, Seamus and Ron both liked Quidditch and would argue over which team was better. Harry did his best to avoid either of these arguments since he didn't follow football and had no understanding of Quidditch. He was more concerned about passing his classes. But Quidditch did have one thing Harry was looking forward to, flying.

Ever since he came to Hogwarts Harry wanted nothing more than to learn to fly a broom. He was finally going to get his chance Thursday afternoon. Hermione and Neville did not share his enthusiasm. Both would rather keep their feet firmly on the ground. In Neville's case, Harry had to admit that was probably for the best. Many of the wizarding children talked nonstop about their own flying adventures. Malfoy spent most of their Potions lessons bragging about his own skills.

The afternoon was cool and clear as Harry and his fellow first year Gryffindors. Harry's excitement dimmed slightly when he spotted Draco Malfoy, it seemed they were to have these lessons with the Slytherins. This was probably the worst pairing possible. Potions was the only time they saw each other and that was a good thing. Though maybe it wouldn't be too bad here. The Slytherins wouldn't get the favoritism that Professor Snape showed his own house.Harry didn't know what he had done, but the professor was so much colder to him since his arrival at the castle.

Brooms laid in two lines down the center of the column. The crowd split along house lines, Gryffindor on the right, Slytherin to the left. Nobody touched the brooms, however.

Madame Hooch walked down the center. "Good afternoon class," she greeted.

"Good afternoon," they replied.

"Stick your hand out above your broom and say 'Up'," she instructed.

Harry did as he was told the broom came zooming up to meet his outstretched palm. Hermione and Neville were having a much harder time with it. Hermione's broom simply rolled over. Neville's didn't even move. It took a long time for all the brooms to get in the air, Neville's being last.

"Mount your brooms," Madame Hooch ordered at that point. "On the count of three, I will blow the whistle. At that point, you will kick off from the ground, hover for a moment then return to the ground. Three...Tw-"

Neville was rising from the ground, his broom barely under control. Everyone watched as he rose into the air, almost a hundred feet at his highest. He fell at a much lower elevation, twenty feet perhaps. Madam Hooch rushed over to him. Neville whimpered softly, holding his arm to his chest.

Madam Hooch carefully took the injured arm under inspection. "Tsk tsk, a broken wrist," the professor tutted. To the class at large, she announced, "I'm taking this boy to the Hospital Wing. You are all to stay firmly on the ground. I catch anyone in the air they'll be gone before they can say 'Quidditch'."

The class watched as the pair walked across the lawn until they disappeared into the castle. Draco picked something up off the lawn. It was Neville's Rememberall, a small glass ball a little bigger than a golf ball filled with white smoke that turned red when you forgot something. His gran sent it to him it just that morning.

"Maybe if he gave this a squeeze he would have remembered to fall on his fat arse instead," Draco joked.

"Give it here Malfoy," Harry demanded, stepping forward.

Malfoy just gave him a nasty smile. "I think I'll leave it someplace for Longbottom to find - how about the roof?" He grabbed hold of his broom and took off.

Harry grabbed his own broom.

Hermione took hold of Harry's sleeve. "Don't Madam Hooch said not to. You'll get us all in trouble."

Harry ignored her. His heart pounded in his chest first in anger, but as he took from the ground it changed to exhilaration. This was the best thing Harry had ever felt. He flew higher to equal that of Malfoy. The girls screamed while Ron Weasley let out an appreciative cheer. Harry made a tight turn to face Malfoy.

"Give it back Malfoy," Harry demanded once more, "or I'll knock you off that broom."

"Yeah?" Malfoy asked. His sneer wasn't as convincing this time, he was clearly worried.

Harry instinctively knew what to do. He held onto the handle tighter, leaned forward and shot toward Malfoy. The other boy moved out of the way barely avoiding a collision.

"You're up here all by yourself, Malfoy," Harry taunted.

"You want it so badly, catch it if you can!" Malfoy said throwing it with all his might before heading back to the ground.

Harry watched as the tiny ball plunged toward the ground. He leaned forward racing it, urging it faster lying closer to the handle. He stretched out his hand catching the ball just feet from the ground. Harry leaved out the broom and rolled onto the lawn a foot off the ground.

"HARRY POTTER!" Exclaimed Professor McGonagall as she ran across the lawn. "In my forty years of Hogwarts, I've never seen... You could have broken your neck! Come with me."

Harry's heart sank. He was going to be expelled he knew it. He wondered how the Dursleys would respond to him showing up on their doorstep again. But that's not what happened. She didn't take him to the Headmaster, no she introduced Harry to Oliver Wood, the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Wood made Harry the new Gryffindor Seeker, he was the youngest player on a house team in a century. Harry thought that would be the end of it. He was very wrong.

The next day Gryffindor had Potions with the Slytherins. Professor Snape seemed to be in a worse mood than usual. He snapped at Harry when Neville knocked over a vial of sticky sap since they were working together. Not only did he yell, he took five points. Harry did his best to focus on their potion and not lose Gryffindor any more points, or his temper. Professor Snape was being totally unfair.

The class was dismissed when the bell rang. Harry packed away his things before he could leave, Professor Snape called to him, "Mr. Potter, stay a moment."

Harry shifted his bag up his shoulder, "Sir."

Professor Snape came around to stand in front of his desk. "I heard about your exploits during your flying lessons yesterday."

"Sir," Harry asked confused.

"A fifty-foot dive, pulling up a foot above the ground, with no adult supervision," Professor Snape elaborated.

Harry shifted from foot to foot nervously.

"Are you aware you could have seriously injured yourself?" The professor asked.

Harry bit his lip. "Yes, sir."

"Madam Hooch directed you and your classmates to stay on the ground did she not?"

"Yeah, but Malfoy," Harry protested.

"What does Mr. Malfoy have to do with anything?" Professor Snape inquired, his temper running short.

"He wouldn't give me Neville's Rememberall. It fell out of his pocket when he fell. Malfoy picked it up and wouldn't give it to me. He was going to hide it somewhere." Harry explained.

"So you decided to follow Mr. Malfoy's rule breaking with your own?"

Harry was going to say something to defend himself, but the teacher held up a hand to stop him. "It was a rhetorical question, Potter. Mr. Malfoy's rule breaking does not excuse your own. You were instructed to stay on the ground. For failing to do so you will serve a week's detention with me."

"That's not fair," Harry objected.

A dark sneer crossed the man's sallow features.  "Would you prefer to make it two? No, it is perfectly fair, Potter. What is unfair is you being rewarded for your rule breaking when every other student would have been punished, to begin with. Let me make this clear, if you were in my own house, you would have been."

"Why do you care?" Harry asked.

"Tread carefully, Potter." Professor Snape warned.

"You're not my Head of House," Harry pointed out.

"I am not," the man agreed, "however, I would like you to see your next birthday. Your mother gave her life for you, this is how you wish to use that sacrifice, to die over simple trinkets? You are too reckless, Potter, exactly like your father. Perhaps a week’s detention will make you think before you act."

Harry stared at the man speechless.

"I will see you tomorrow evening at seven o'clock."

"I have Quidditch practice," Harry stumbled, the professor's words sinking in.

"Then you will have to explain to Mr. Wood why you will fail to be there, Potter." The professor said his tone firm.

"Yes sir," Harry sulked.

"I will see you tomorrow, Potter," Professor said dismissing the boy.

Instead of attending Quidditch practice he would spend his evenings scrubbing cauldrons, gutting frogs, and preparing other ingredients. Oliver wasn't happy to hear that his brand new Seeker would be missing his first week of practice but understood how Snape could be. He arranged a set separate one-on-one practices for him and Harry to hopefully make up for some of the lost time.

Fred and George were Ron's older twin brothers. They helped Harry when Oliver was busy. These practices were a lot more fun, as the twins liked to joke around. Harry learned after his first practice with them to check inside his boots. Fred hid a glob of frog spawn in the bottom of Harry's right boot while he wasn't looking. He only discovered when his foot made a wet squelch.

September faded into October. The weather became cooler and rainier. Harry's free time was limited, lost to homework or Quidditch practice. It was a really good thing he was friends with Hermione, or there was no way he could have kept up with his classes, especially the week he had detention on top of practice and homework.

Halloween morning the castle woke up to the smell of baking pumpkins. There was to be a feast that night. Harry like many of his fellow first years was looking forward to it. But the meal wasn't the only thing they were anticipating. Professor Flitwick had announced at the end of their previous lesson he thought they had a good enough handle on the basics they could start learning to make things fly.

He split the room into pairs, Harry with Seamus, Hermione with Ron, Neville with Dean. Each pair was given a feather they were to try and make float off their desks. Professor Flitwick reminded everyone of the pronunciation of the incantation, 'Wingardium Leviosa', and to swish and flick. The pairs set to work.

Seamus lost patience and jabbed the feather with his wand, setting it on fire. Neville and Dean didn't seem to be having much better luck, but no flames as of yet.

"You're saying it wrong," Harry's could hear Hermione criticizing Ron on his other side. "It's Wing-gar-dium Levi- o -sa, make the 'gar' nice and long."

"You do it, then, if you're so clever," Ron snapped.

Hermione rolled up her sleeves, flicked her wand, said, " Windgardium Leviosa !" The feather rose to four feet off the desk.

"Oh, look everyone Miss Granger's done it!" Professor Flitwick praised.

Ron was in a very bad mood by the end of class. Hermione had stayed behind a moment to talk to Professor Flitwick, so Harry and Neville were walking back to Gryffindor Tower with Ron, Seamus, and Dean.

"It's no wonder nobody can stand her," Ron complained, "she's a nightmare, honesty."

"I don't think," Harry started to say.

"She only helps you out because you're famous. She's got no real friends." Ron insisted.

Hermione pushed past the boys, crying.

"I think she heard you," Harry snapped.

Harry followed after her but stopped when she disappeared into a girls' lavatory. He shifted his bag nervously, before shaking his head and going back to the Tower. Harry heard from one of the girls Hermione hadn't come out of the bathroom since this afternoon but forgot about his friend's upset as they sat down to dinner.

The Great Hall was splendidly decorated, live bats on the walls and ceiling, huge jack-o-lanterns. The food appeared magical onto gold plates as it had at the welcoming feast. Professor Quirrell came running into the Great Hall, his face ashen, turban askew.

"Troll! Troll in the dungeon! Just thought you ought to know." He exclaimed before passing out in a dead faint.

Professor Dumbledore had to let off several sparks from his wand to be heard over the frightened screams of the student body. "Prefects will lead your Houses back to your dormitories immediately!"

Ron's older brother, Percy, one of the Gryffindor prefect instantly took charge. As they were leaving the Great Hall that it occurred to Harry that Hermione didn't know about the troll.

Harry got Neville's attention, "Hermione doesn't know about the troll."

"We should tell a teacher," Neville urged.

Harry nodded. They fell back behind their group on the second floor temporarily joining a group of Hufflepuffs heading the other way. Before they could find a teacher, however, they spotted the troll. It was twelve feet tall, with dull grey skin. Its huge feet were horny, attached to short legs thick as tree trunks. Behind it, it drug a huge wooden club. Harry had never smelled something so foul. It was heading straight for the lavatory where Hermione was hiding.

"Oh no," Neville groaned.

"Come on Neville," Harry said running toward the bathroom.  Neville followed, but with much less haste. He cast a glance around the corridor just in case professor might appear.

His pace picked up when he heard Hermione scream. Hermione was curled in the back of one of the stalls. The troll smashed the stall just two down from her. Harry stood at the door.

"What should we do?" Neville asked nervously.

"We need to distract it," Harry said.

He picked up a chunk of wood and threw it at the troll's tiny head. Neville followed suit. The troll turned toward the boys, his club coming down and smashing a ceramic sink.

"Uh, Harry..." Neville began.

Harry threw another chunk of wood at the troll. Its club came at the boys this time. Harry grabbed hold of it. The troll picked it up, Harry hung from it, before falling onto its shoulders.

"Do something," Harry pleaded.

"What?" Neville called.

"Anything," Harry yelled back as the troll shook his head back and forth trying to shake him off. His hand slipped, his wand going up the troll's nose. Neville drew his wand, unsure what to do.

"Swish and flick," Hermione instructed.

"Wingardium Leviosa," Neville said flicking his wand.

The troll's club hung in the air for the moment before coming down on its head. Harry held on as it came crashing down. Harry removed his wand from the troll's nose. Thick grey boogers clung to it.

"Yuck troll boogies," Harry whined as he rubbed them on his robes.

The door banged opened revealing Professors McGonagall, Snape, and Flitwick.

"My word!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed. "Would you care to explain what happened here?"

"Uh... We heard about the troll...and...we were trying going to tell..." Harry began.

"It's my fault," Hermione spoke up. "I wasn't at the feast. Harry and Neville came to tell me about it. I'm sure they would have gotten one of you, but before they had a chance to, they saw it heading in here."

"Then Harry distracted it and jumped on his back," Neville added.

"Then Neville used its own club to knock it out," Harry finished.

"It's not every year you meet three students, first years at that, capable of defeating a full-grown mountain troll. Five points each to Gryffindor for sheer dumb luck," Professor McGonagall rewarded, brogue particularly thick.

"Miss Granger a word, please." Hermione followed Professor McGonagall out of the room.

"Professor Flitwick, will you please escort Mr. Longbottom back to his common room, I would like a word with Mr. Potter," Professor Snape inquired.

"Come along Mr. Longbottom, you can tell exactly how you managed to knock out this troll," Professor Flitwick said gesturing for the boy to come with him.

"Yes sir," Neville mumbled, flushing red.

"Care to explain yourself, Potter?" Professor Snape asked once they were alone. Harry looked down at his shoes. He noticed there was blood on the professor's leg. The boy only shook his head.

"Were Miss Granger's assurances correct? Were you and Longbottom were going to get an adult before you rushed in like a drunken hippogriff?"

Harry's head shot up, "Yes, sir. But like she said, the troll..."

The professor nodded. "You should have informed one of us before you left the Great Hall."

"Err... I didn't think about until we got to the second floor," Harry admitted.

"And failed to run into a prefect between there and the lavatory?"  Professor Snape inquired.

Harry shook his head, "We didn't see anybody."

"Very well, but I would prefer not to have these sorts of discussions in the future. Now back to your dormitory, they are finishing the festivities up there." Professor Snape said dismissing the boy.

When Harry got to the door he stopped him, "And Mr. Potter, that will be another week's detention. With your pension for trouble, perhaps you should advise Mr. Wood to have a backup Seeker available." Professor Snape remarked, a ghost of a smirk on his lips.

"Yes sir," Harry grumbled, though he couldn't feel too bad about it, not when things could have gone so much worse.


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