Echoes of the Twin Flame: The Girl Who Balanced the Storm (1)

Part 6 - Good Dog...?

The next morning, we had Potions first thing, and I noticed Harry seemed a bit reluctant as we walked into the dungeon classroom. I gave him a questioning look, but he just shrugged, so I let it go and took my seat beside Hermione. Harry sat on my other side, his expression a mix of curiosity and unease.

Hermione whispered to me, "That's Professor Snape. He's the head of Slytherin House." I nodded, quickly realizing this wasn't going to be an easy class.

Professor Snape swept into the room, his black robes billowing behind him. He didn't waste any time with introductions.

"There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class," he began, his voice cold and deliberate. 

"As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making. However, for those select few..." He glanced at Malfoy, who was sitting smugly a few rows ahead. "...who possess the predisposition, I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death."

He paused, letting the words sink in. The room was deathly silent, every student hanging on his every word.

"Then again," Snape continued, his gaze now fixing on Harry, "maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel confident enough to... not pay attention."

Harry blinked, suddenly realizing that Snape was speaking to him. Confused, I glanced at Snape, trying to understand why he seemed so intent on singling Harry out.

"Mr. Potter," Snape sneered, his tone dripping with sarcasm, "our new... celebrity. Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry looked completely at a loss. Hermione's hand shot into the air, eager to answer, but Snape ignored her.

"You don't know?" Snape's voice was mocking. "Well, let's try again. Where, Mr. Potter, would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Harry replies "I don't know, sir."

"And what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

As Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle sniggered, I couldn't help but feel a surge of anger. Why was Snape treating Harry like this?

Harry glanced at them and then back at Snape. "I don't know, sir," he admitted again.

Snape clicked his tongue, clearly enjoying Harry's discomfort. "Pity. Clearly fame isn't everything, is it, Mr. Potter?"

Harry, trying to defend himself, shot back, "Clearly, Hermione knows. It seems a pity not to ask her."

I couldn't help but chuckle, and a few other Gryffindors, including Neville and Seamus, burst into laughter. Snape's eyes flashed dangerously.

"Silence!" he snapped. "And put your hand down, you silly girl!" he barked at Hermione, who lowered her hand, looking both hurt and frustrated.

I couldn't stay silent any longer. Letting out a frustrated sigh, I answered, "Asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it's known as the Draught of the Living Dead. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and can save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, also known as aconite. Does that answer your question to my brother, Professor?"

I stared Snape down, my anger simmering just below the surface. He looked momentarily taken aback, his eyes narrowing as he whispered something under his breath that sounded like, "...Lily...?"