A Hufflepuff's Loyalty

Chapter 7

The potions classroom smelled of wet fur and dead things. I wasn't the only one who had noticed. Hani, who was sat next to me, was talking about it animatedly with the Ravenclaw girl on the next table over.

This was going to be my very first potions lesson. Apparently the teacher had only just come back. I figured he'd been with his family while the war was raging, just like so many of the students.

The strange thing was that he was late. None of the other teachers had ever been late to their own lessons so far. I flicked through my book, blocking out the low rumble of lazy chatter.

Suddenly, the door snapped shut, the slam echoing throughout the dungeon. The whole class was silent, as footsteps made their way towards the front of the classroom. I looked up from my book when I noticed this, peering first at Hani, who had stopped talking mid-sentence, then at the teacher she was staring at.

My jaw dropped. Snape?! What was he still doing in the castle?

I couldn't stop staring at him as he turned slowly and let his gaze wander over his students. His lips formed a thin line, his chin stuck high in the air. He barely spared me a glance. Almost as if he didn't recognise me.

Months ago, the Dark Lord had given Snape the task of infiltrating the school. Gaining Dumbledore's trust, in order to retrieve valuable information. I knew that. That's why I hadn't been surprised to run into him a few days earlier. But after what he'd told me that day, I believed he was on his way out. I thought he'd leave his post to go do something else with his life. After all, why would he stay in a job he hated, if he believed the Dark Lord to be gone for good?

I didn't understand. I didn't understand it at all.

"You are here to resume your studies of potion making." His baritone voice boomed through the classroom. Everything about his demeanour demanded respect – from his piercing gaze to his straight shoulders to his slow, monotone way of speaking. It was as if he was talking to the Death Eaters. He'd learned to impress, to intimidate. Why he used it in here, I didn't know. Maybe it had become all he knew.

"I happen to know that your education up until this year has been... disappointing, at best. On top of that, many of you have only just arrived for the school year. Which means..." He crossed his arms in front of his chest, a frown gracing his face. "You are behind. Immensely behind. Practically all of you have missed nearly a third of the school year. You had better work twice as hard to catch up."

Snape took a step forward, his gaze resting once more on each of his students. "I don't care what the war has done to you or your family. If you fail at a subject as important as potions, you'll never make anything of your miserable little lives."

From the corner of my eye I saw Hani turn her head to stare at me. Her eyes spoke a language even I could understand. She hid her lips behind her hand and mouthed, "What a horrible man!"

I turned back to Snape without responding. A horrible man? Was he? He wasn't any different from the other Death Eaters. Evan had always used a similar tone on me, with the same sort of messages. Do not fail me, or else. Wasn't that normal?

Granted, the other teachers here were kinder, but Snape was a Death Eater – I expected nothing else. Besides, hadn't Mcgonagall said the exact same thing during her lesson last week? Just in different words.

"Over the next four weeks you will have to learn to brew eight potions. That is one new potion every lesson."

By the time he'd finished his sentence, I had straightened my back, ready to get to work. There was a lot of work to be done, after all. But some other students let out stunned gasps.