Harry awoke with a racing heartbeat and his breath stuck in his throat. He realised immediately that it was still the middle of the night as the dormitory was pitch black and he could hear the soft snoring of his roommates behind his curtains.
He sat up and wiped the sweat from his face. He furrowed his brow as he tried to remember this dream, this vision. He remembered Voldemort's high-pitched voice and he was talking to Malfoy and... Snape? And he had hit Malfoy with the Cruciatus Curse because he had kept something from him. He remembered feeling Voldemort's vicious anger as he raised his wand towards the cowering blonde haired man. He shuddered. He would never get used to the experience of being the one to torture another human being.
And Voldemort was angry with Snape as well. For not bringing me to him, Harry thought. His concern for the Potions Master's loyalty was brought back to his consciousness. He was uncertain though, if this concern was his own or Voldemort's. If it was Voldemort's emotion, and Snape really was on the good side, then he was in danger of Voldemort finding out. If he was on Voldemort's side, however, and he really was tasked with taking Harry away from the safe haven of Headquarters...
But Harry shook his head in confusion and frustration. If Snape really was on the wrong side of the war, he had had plenty of opportunity to take him out of Grimmauld Place in the past few weeks. It would have been dead easy to slip him a potion or to curse him in his sleep. He felt a bit uncomfortable at the thought and heard Moody's grumbling voice in the back of his head. Constant vigilance...
When he got his heart rate under control he laid back down and turned on his side to try and fall back asleep again. Through peered eyes he saw the Owl Delivery form on the side table.
Because of the curfew rules, the first opportunity to go to the Owlery and send the form to the London Owl Delivery Service, was the next morning. He hoped his supplies would get there soon. He did not like being singled out in class for it and having his classmates ask questions about it.
That hope was shattered as they received their timetables the next morning at breakfast. Harry had just come back from the Owlery and sat down to fill his plate with toast and eggs, when McGonagall handed them the dreaded parchments.
"Mr. Potter, have you considered taking the classes I recommended for you?" McGonagall asked.
"Yes, Professor. I'll take all the classes you listed. But I noticed that Care of Magical Creatures wasn't on it."
"Five NEWTs is all you need Potter. In any case, your schedule will be packed as it is, with the added Practical sessions."
When she saw his uncomfortable look, she leaned forward and said, "I have talked to Hagrid and I assure you he agreed wholly with dropping his class."
She rose again and added with a smirk, "as long as I made you three promise to visit him often."
Harry grinned and looked at the head table and searched Hagrid's eyes. Hagrid was already looking in their direction and raised his glass of pumpkin juice in salutation.
McGonagall tapped a parchment with the tip of her wand and gave it to Harry before continuing on her way.
Harry took one look at it and groaned.
"Wha izzit?" Ron said with a mouthful of sausage.
"Charms, Transfiguration and Potions today. All double classes."
"Mondays suck," Ron replied, though his timetable looked a lot better without Potions. Out of the three of them, Ron had decided to keep Care of Magical Creatures in his curriculum. He was still not sure what career he wanted to pursue but wanted to have the option to follow in Charlie's footsteps and go in the dragon business.
Hermione had of course taken the most number of classes, though she also dropped Care of Magical Creatures and History of Magic, wanting to either pursue a career in the Ministry or as an Healer. Though Harry rather thought she would excel at anything she put her mind to, brilliant as she was.
Charms class was easy enough in the sense that they spent their time on a revision of some charms they learned last year. Professor Flitwick assured them they would be needed to have them "fresh in your memories" for they were to move on to Nonverbal Spells during the first semester. So for the first half of the lesson they practiced the Disillusionment and Silencing Charm, which was needed for they found they were all a little rusty after the summer holidays. By the time Flitwick made them settle down and entered into a lively lecture on the workings of Nonverbal spells, all students had successfully performed both charms.
Professor Flitwick sent them off with a considerable load of homework and they grudgingly made their way to the first floor for Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall almost immediately started off a lecture on the immense difficulty of the N.E.W.T. Transfiguration class and the amount of work it would be to pass it.
"I expect all of you to put forth your very best effort. If you cannot move yourself to do that, then consider dropping this class," Professor McGonagall warned them ominously.
Ron and Harry looked at each other with dismay, while Hermione actually managed to look a little excited.
Professor McGonagall introduced them to the topic of Human Transfiguration, a subject that was apparently more difficult than any other form of Transfiguration. McGonagall warned them repeatedly about the dangers when this particular type of Transfiguration was done poorly, telling gruelling tales of people getting stuck in their transfigured state. When she went on to the scientific aspects of Human Transfiguration Harry barely understood half of what she said. He and Ron watched with bitter awe as Hermione scribbled down every word.
When they sat down in the Great Hall for lunch they were joined by Neville and Ginny, who immediately started complaining about the amount of work she had to do in preparation for her OWL's.
"OWL's are nothing compared to NEWT's," Ron protested.
"Yeah, you weren't joking when you said it would be the most difficult year yet, Hermione," Harry added as he took a chicken sandwich off the serving platter.
Hermione gave them an I told you so-look but didn't say anything more on the subject as she took out her notes and started marking the important parts.
Ginny eyed her and gave a smirk. "Say, Hermione, you wouldn't happen to have any notes left from last year?"
Hermione looked up. "Of course I do, I keep all my notes. It comes in handy for revising."
"Can you lend them to me?" Ginny asked sincerely. "I would ask my dear brother, but I have a feeling it would not do much for my educational progress."
Hermione grinned. "I don't think Ron keeps any of his notes, if he even has any at all. So sure, you can use mine."
"I'm right here, you know," Ron said with pursed lips.
The girls laughed at him and Harry's mood was lifted by the playful teasing of his friends. Unfortunately, that did not last long for they had Potions after lunch. Hermione and Harry left Ron and Ginny to make their way to the dungeons.
Snape was yet to arrive so the students took their seats and waited, murmuring amongst themselves. Harry and Hermione took their usual seats in the back of the classroom, though it didn't lessen the chance of Snape's ire reaching them. To their surprise, Neville came in and took a seat at the workbench next to them.
"Neville? You're taking Potions?" Harry asked in disbelief.
"Yeah," Neville said deflated as though he already questioned the wisdom of his choice. "I want to proceed in Herbology. Unfortunately that means I have to take Potions as well. I never expected to get an OWL in Potions, but somehow I did."
"I know how that feels," Harry replied sourly.
Neville chuckled. "You know, I do actually like Potions and the knowledge of the various ingredients is just as interesting to me as Herbology is. It's just... you know..."
Harry nodded, knowing that he meant that Snape's presence put a damper on any enjoyment for the subject they might possess. Neville turned away to set up his supplies for the lesson and Harry couldn't help but let his thoughts drift to the prophecy. This boy... young man actually, he corrected, was among the bravest people he knew. He just realized that Neville, timid as he is, continuously faced his biggest fears head on. He did so in his first year when he stood up to the socially more adept trio and last year when he joined them on their rescue mission for a man whom he didn't even know! And today he willingly chose to face the chief among his nightmares, Professor Snape.
The prophecy could have been about him, he realised anew. It could have been this man in his school robes, anxiously laying his supplies out in front of him with a slight tremble in his hands. It could have been, Neville. And Harry would have had a normal live. Perhaps Snape would be his biggest fear.
Just as quickly as they had come, he pushed these depressing thoughts away. It does not do to dwell on dreams, Dumbledore had once said. He had no way of changing his fate so it wasn't worth depressing himself over what could have been. Either way, he would not wish this burden on anyone else, let alone Neville, who had become a close friend over the years.
Without warning the classroom door was swung shut behind a very ill-tempered Professor Snape, who strode purposefully to the front of the classroom. Harry saw Neville jump up in fear at the loud thud of the door. The class was completely quiet, nobody moved as they waited for Snape to start the lesson.
Snape stood watching them menacingly, arms crossed in the darkness of his black robes, waiting just long enough until the silence became unbearable to the students.
"As you are well aware of, by now," he started slowly, "the difficulty of classes this year has tripled compared to previous years. You can no longer just scrape by. Last-minute study sessions are equally out of the question."
Some of the students gulped.
"Somehow," he continued as his black eyes passed over each anxious face, "you have all managed to gain access to this class by an astounding moment of clarity during your OWL examinations. Clearly, hard work does seem to make up for a lack of intellectual capacity." His eyes lingered for a moment on Harry, who met them unflinchingly.
"However, luck will not get you through my NEWT class. I demand the utmost attention, dedication and commitment to my classes. I will not tolerate messy and careless work and neither will I condone laziness and anything less than your best effort. If you cannot meet my standards in these lessons, you will find yourself out of this class by next month. Indefinitely."
He uncurled his arms and gestured the door. "The door is there. Leave now if you are not prepared to give your full commitment here."
No one moved.
"Let us start then." Snape turned towards the blackboard and waved his wand. The name of today's potion appeared on it, along with some of its qualities and uses.
"We will start this year off with a Wound Cleaning Potion. As the name suggests it is a healing potion used to sterilise wounds as a powerful antiseptic. It smokes and stings upon contact with an open wound and may irritate sensitive and unscathed skin, which is why it should be applied with care. When brewed correctly it ends up as a purple liquid that is not too thick. You will write an essay about the properties and ingredients of this potion and other uses aside from healing, to be handed in next week. But, for this lesson you are going to try and brew the potion. The instructions are on page thirty-one of your textbook. Begin."
The students gathered their supplies and a few went to the cupboard to get extra ingredients, while Hermione opened her textbook first to study the instructions for preparing the potion.
"Potter, you don't seem to have your supplies with you," came the menacing voice over Harry's shoulder.
Harry turned in his seat to face the Potions Master.
"No, sir, but-"
"Do you consider yourself above the standard? Do you believe yourself to be so exceptional that you can do without instruction?"
"What? No!"
"Tell me, Potter, has your stroke of luck on last year's exams gotten to your head?"
"Professor, I-," Harry tried exasperatedly to get a few words in.
"I had not thought your ego could expand any further but you continue to surprise me."
"Professor McGonagall already informed you of this," Harry waved his arms at his empty desk in a desperate attempt to make Snape see reason. Of course, he could just as well have asked Voldemort to put on a pink summer dress and dance through the streets of London. It was impossible to change this man's opinion.
"I'm sick of your excuses, Potter," Snape grabbed his upper arm firmly and pulled him to his feet. Harry stumbled out of his seat but Snape held firm and, admittedly, quite painfully. He pulled Harry towards the front of the classroom. As they passed the Slytherins, Harry could hear Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson snickering.
Snape hurled him towards an empty workbench near his desk and the edge of the table connected painfully with Harry's knee. He clenched his teeth to avoid making any sound and sat down heavily on the stool. Snape conjured a cauldron and set it down in front of Harry with a resounding noise.
"You will prepare your potion here, Potter. Alone. Apparently you have no need for anything else to aid you."
And with that Snape swept away, probably off to torture another unsuspecting student. Harry was left gaping at the empty cauldron in front of him and felt his temper rise. He gripped the edge of the table to keep his hands from trembling and to prevent himself from flinging the cauldron across the classroom. What the hell was his problem? He knew exactly why Harry did not have any supplies with him, yet he chose to take the opportunity to belittle and ridicule him. It was just like Snape to torment him every chance he got.
"Problem, Potter?" Snape suddenly appeared in front of his workbench and sneered down at him.
Harry glared at him. "No," he said defiantly through clenched teeth.
Snape put his hands on either side of the cauldron and leaned forward over the table, his eyes glinting dangerously.
"You will show me respect and call me sir," he said in a low voice.
"I would, if I thought you deserved any." Harry couldn't stop himself. The white-hot anger made his heart pump blood to his head rapidly and there was a ringing in his ears.
Something in the professor snapped and he smacked his hands hard on the table making the empty cauldron tremble. The students in the classroom jumped and gasped in shock and Harry was sure all eyes were on him. Harry managed to hold his own body back from shuddering and kept blazing eyes on the Potions professor. Who was currently looking just seconds away from committing murder.
"I will not tolerate your insolence. Twenty points from Gryffindor. And perhaps a week of detention will help you remember to show respect to your teachers."
Harry fixed his jaw and said nothing.
"Seven. Tonight. My office," Snape said articulating every word carefully. Then he waved his hand and the cauldron disappeared again. "It's no use trying to brew today. We both know it would have been a zero either way."
Snape straightened and sneered at him in disdain. "Now, get out."
Harry didn't need to be told twice. He picked up his bag angrily and stormed out without another glance.
His first thought was to go to the Common Room but when he arrived at the Entrance Hall he changed his mind and stalked out onto the grounds. The weather was quite nice, and the warm summer breeze helped to calm the raging storm inside of him. His breath came out in angry pants as he strode aimlessly around, trying to cool down his boiling blood. He just wanted a break from... everything really. Not a day could go by when he wasn't reminded that he was different from the rest. He would always stand out, no matter where he went. The wizarding world saw him as their saviour. The Dursleys saw him as a freak. His classmates either thought he was weird or were scared of him. And Snape... well Snape just flat out hated him.
He sighed and looked up to see he had ended up just outside the Quidditch Pitch. He squinted his eyes as he saw two red-heads on broomsticks. Feeling his spirits lift slightly he walked towards them.
"Harry!" Ginny called when she spotted him and she and Ron flew towards him.
"What are you doing here Harry? Aren't you supposed to be in class right now?" Ron asked as he dismounted his broom.
"Snape threw me out."
"What?"
Harry told them what happened and felt his irritation rise again.
"That git. Only you would succeed in getting detention on the very first day of school," Ron said with a grimace.
"And only Snape would be the one to give it," Harry replied with a sigh.
"Don't I know it."
"What were you guys doing here anyway," Harry asked indicating the brooms held loosely in their hands and effectively shifting the subject away from mean Potions professors.
"Ginny wanted to practice with the Quaffle," Ron said.
"That's right. I want to join the team as a chaser," Ginny said with a casual shrug.
"Really? Are you any good?" Harry asked bluntly.
"What do you think?" Ginny teased with a grin and raised eyebrows.
"I hate to say it, she being my sister and all, but she actually isn't that bad as chaser," Ron said sheepishly. "I mean, we know she was an okay seeker and all..."
"Excuse me? If it weren't for me, Gryffindor would not have won the Quidditch cup last year."
"I'm not saying you were bad!" Ron said hastily, "Just that Harry was better."
"Well, I can't disagree with that one," Ginny said looking at Harry appraisingly and Harry felt his cheeks heat up.
Then Ginny turned towards Harry with a determined look. "Now, don't you pick me because I happen to be your best friend's sister. You should choose based on skill with a broom, nothing else."
"Don't worry, I won't be biased," Harry assured her with a smile. "Is it okay if I stay and watch for a while?"
"You know you don't even have to ask."
Harry went to the stands, feeling his anger from earlier abating in the blissful summer breeze, looking forward to occupying his mind with Quidditch only for the next hour.
Chapter 10 Mondays...