Freak Like Me || Snape ||

Potions. Severus had always been brilliant with potions, never following the book but perfecting the recipes himself. He’d marked up his own text only a few years ago when he’d been a student here but he had transferred all of the correct potions instructions into a tome of his own and no longer had a need for the little textbook that had been with him for so many years now. His schoolbook was gathering dust with a tiny collection of used texts, stashed away should a student misplace their own book someday. He had planned to leave his books behind and forget about them, except for Defense Against the Dark Arts text but his time as the DADA professor’s assistant had proved pointless. Dumbledore clearly had no intention of permitting him his preferred post. Being offered Potions Master as an alternative was either a pity or a ploy, of which Severus was sure either one was carefully calculated by the Headmaster with more than one purpose in mind but fat chance Severus had of finding out the inner workings of the older wizard. He took his lumps and accepted the position, having already completed half a year as a full-fledged professor.

Double lessons were tedious with the wrong class, but todays had been rather run of the mill. He paced the classroom, pointing out any missteps by the students and giving curt praises to those who actually listened to the instructions he’d provided them. A longing scent of flower blossoms and dirt caught his attention and Severus double backed to a cauldron he’d just passed without acknowledgement. The potion smelled of Lily, of the park where they first met and of the dirt near the Black Lake where they used to sit together and talk before Potter came and ruined everything. He might have smiled at the comforting scent but his thoughts of Lily were often disturbed by reminders of James Potter, the pretentious git who’d turned Lily away from him. He sneered and looked analytically at the student sat in front of the offending cauldron. “It appears you’ve learned how to follow directions, Miss Carrow. Well done.” His last words were short and clipped, minimizing the praise that followed the backhanded compliment he had given her. Amycus’ little sister; no doubt she got enough praise from her family, she didn’t need to be spoilt with it at school.

The pregnant pause in her statement was not overlooked by Severus but he couldn’t simply take points away from her for inferred impudence. Or perhaps he could. He was the professor now, after all. He was not teaching the subject he had wanted but he was teaching nonetheless. There was a certain level of power that came with his new title and so perhaps he ought to wield it as he pleased. Severus’ narrow gaze lingered on Alecto Carrow for a moment, contemplating the ramifications of reckless corruption of power but thought better of it for the time being. “Very good, then.” He turned and continued on, pacing between the desks and commenting as he saw fit.

The interaction with Miss Carrow had already left Severus’ thoughts as he roamed the classroom and criticized the remainder of his students on their overall piss-poor attempts at their various potions. He knew from experience that the text was not the best approach to potion making, but as a new professor he wasn’t quite ready to step on toes by demanding a new textbook for his lessons. Not that such a demand would have mattered, there really weren’t many completely accurate tombs on the subject, at least not aimed at the grade levels he was now in charge of. Clearly the authors of these atrocities were more concerned with their sales numbers than of the accuracy or ease of their potions, making things much harder on the learning than was required. Still, that didn’t excuse their ignorance on the matter. Severus had devised a more efficient means to potion making, and so he expected his new charges to as well. He was just about to tell off Hammersmith for his untidy work space when a crash near the front of the dungeon claimed his attention. Curtains of black hair swung as Severus’ head turned swiftly in the direction of the sound, prepared to scold whomever had been the cause of the chaos. Alecto Carrow was on the floor, a pool of spilled potion before her. Severus approached, glowering at William Potts. “Twenty points from Hufflepuff for your carelessness, Potts. Now clean up this mess or it will be thirty.” The Hufflepuff boy stammered, attempting a defense but Severus scowled at him until he fell silent and began to mop up the mess with a rag. “Not like that, you brainless twit. Use your wand, unless you were intending to become Miss Carrow’s puppet for the next week.” Severus looked to Alecto on the floor then turned away. “Stopper your potions and leave them on my desk,” he said aloud to the class. “Failure to label them accurately will result in loss of marks.” He had been waiting for the end of class for what seemed like ages, a feeling that apparently did not diminish upon graduation, and he was happy the time had finally come.

Severus sat behind his desk, perusing a book on potion making that was well above the level of any of his current students. He pulled a quill from his desk and dipped the tip into an inkwell that was sat open on his desk, intended for grading but having done very little of it just yet. Instead, Severus made notes in the margins of the book as he read, mostly questions for himself or things he wanted to try. Later he would clear away his notes and start new ones in their place; improvements on the recipes as they were listed here. He had yet to meet a potions recipe that he couldn’t improve on. As Severus focused on his on work, the students began leaving their potions on his desk and packing up their bookbags. He said nothing to them as they began to trickle out of the dungeon classroom, his dark eyes flicking up every so often to ensure they were behaving.

Severus’ eyes turned up as he was called, though his long nose stayed pointed at the book her was reading. “I will get to your grade when I get to it, Miss Carrow.” His eyes traveled back to his book without giving her anymore of a response.