The Potions Master

Chapter 2

 A couple days later, I got up a bit early to see my housemates off to their first hour classes, and do something special with my hair. I was extra happy today — it was my birthday. It was also the last day for half my classes before school let out for Christmas. I knew Professor Sprout had a small party planned in her class that afternoon, my favourite trifle would be served with lunch, and Elladora had arranged for butterbeer and a small cake to celebrate in our common room after dinner. The real party would take place on Saturday, once everyone was done with their work for the term, when a few of us would have a silly celebration at Madam Puddifoot's in Hogsmeade.

Today was also the day I would make my volubilis potion, and receive my grade. I may not have been generally afraid of Snape, but having my work evaluated by him was still unnerving. To help calm my nerves, I went over the homework I was to turn in the next day for Charms class.

I arrived a bit early to class, and waited in the hall for the current session to end. When the first hour students started filing out of the room, I took a few quiet, deep breaths. When the last person was out, I stood and entered.

Professor Snape was walking down the aisles of the classroom, waving his wand to clear the desks of the empty ingredient bottles. He glanced at me, and to my surprise he greeted, "Miss Chambers."

"Professor," I said, nodding once, and continued to my seat. My heart pounded in my chest. I doodled in my notebook to distract myself. It felt like an eternity before another student entered.

Once the potion making was underway, I worked calmly and confidently. I knew I'd learned this potion well, and fretting over getting it perfect would only cause me to mess it up. Professor Snape began lurking over shoulders, distressing many of the students. I could have been mistaken, but it seemed like he spent a bit longer peering at my work. I wasn't sure if he was curious, impressed, or trying extra hard to make me nervous. Any way, I maintained my concentration. As long as he didn't say anything, that meant he wasn't disappointed.

At long last, I finished. The colour, consistency, and smell were textbook perfect. I poured the finished product into a flask, and took it to the front of the room for the professor to evaluate.

"Finished already, Miss Chambers?" he asked in an accusatory voice as he picked up my flask.

"Yes, sir." I held my breath. He turned the flask over in his hand a couple times, presumably checking the consistency and colour. Then, he removed the cork and gave it a whiff. After a short pause, he returned the cork to its place and set the flask in my direction on his desk.

"Excellent work," he simply said, and marked my grade on a parchment.

Best. Birthday. Ever.

The rest of the day and week was joyous. I received letters from my parents and sister, I had a great time with my friends, Hagrid had set up the twelve Christmas trees in the Great Hall, and I allowed myself to accept my stupid crush for a while. The latter was a big relief of stress, actually.

Monday was a bit sadder, though. Most of the students got on the train back to London for the holiday. It was a nice long ride with my friends in our little compartment, but the moment the three of them decided to roam the train, I just grew sombre and stared out the window. I wondered what it would have been like to live at school for Christmas, with nowhere I needed to be, so few students, special meals and pudding, and the presence of Professor Snape. I wondered if he enjoyed Christmas at all.