When he was done with calling names, he snapped, "Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Potter glanced at Nott looked as stumped as he was. The bushy-haired girl, Miss Granger, was it? – who'd stepped forward on Potter's behalf yesterday, shot her hand in the air.
"I don't know, sir," said Potter, as Severus knew he would.
His lips curled into a sneer. "Tut, tut -- fame clearly isn't everything." He ignored Granger's hand. She wasn't going to aid his fact finding mission.
"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
The Granger crane stretched as high into the air as she could go without
leaving her seat, but Potter was obviously stumped. Behind him, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, were shaking with laughter. Interesting. He shot them a glare, and they subsided, but only barely.
"I don't know, sir."
"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?"
Potter flushed, and Severus knew immediately that the boy had not had access to his books before the term started in that house full of Muggles who disdained him. Still, the Brat held his gaze, not an easy feat for grown men, and even a couple of the Gryffindors looked put out on his behalf.
"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
At this, the Granger chit stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.
"I don't know," said Potter quietly. "I think she does, though, why don't you try her?"
Nott shot him a look with wide eyes as a few people laughed, though none of them Slytherins. Malfoy's smirk was rather large, however. Potter's hands were shaking, and he folded them sharply together on his desk.
Severus snapped, "Sit down," at Granger. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite.
"Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"
There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Severus said, "And another detention for your cheek, Potter."
Potter nodded and continued to get his parchment readied.
As he ordered the students to follow the directions on the board to make a simple cure for boils, Severus hoped the special lesson had not been lost on the boy.
When class was over, he prepared a bin of black beetles for Potter to crush into powder during his detention tonight, with explicit written instructions, as he would not be there to supervise. Amazingly, he knew he could trust the boy to do his detention as assigned.
Dinner at the Malfoys was always an interesting affair. The food was as sumptuous as ever, served on the very best china by well trained House-elves. Severus knew not to bring up anything business related until after they moved to the sitting room for brandy and conversation, and he was not surprised to have the topic swing immediately to Draco's performance in school.
"I have had him in but one class," Severus admitted, and took a sip of the brandy, savoring the burn in his throat, "but his potion making is obviously of a superior quality," to that of trained dogs.
"Of course," Narcissa replied, her mouth in a pretty bow. "Lucius has always arranged for the best tutors."
"Of course," Severus murmured.
"What do you think are his chances of making the Quidditch team?" Lucius asked. "He'll make a good Seeker."
Turning the possible answers over in his mind, Severus decided on, "Tryouts will be next week, and final decisions will be up to the Captain, of course. I can put a good word in for someone of talent, however."
"Excellent." Lucius took a hefty belt of his drink. "I happen to be going abroad next week, and will stop over in Budapest. There is an apothecary just south of there you have frequented, haven't you? I wonder if I might pick something special up for your private stores."
Once more, Severus chose his words carefully, a little disconcerted that Malfoy was monitoring his activities. And he did not want to be beholden to this man for any reason whatsoever. Even so . . . "I am in need of a quantity of Boomslang skin," he admitted. "And it is rather less scarce on the continent."
Malfoy smiled and lifted his glass slightly. "Boomslang skin, then."
Talk turned to more inconsequential matters, and the evening passed more pleasantly that Severus might have hoped, until it was near time to leave, and Lucius, with his too-innocent smile, said, "I heard that Slytherin House is now home to the Boy Who Lived." There was a special emphasis on the epithet that Severus knew he would be wise to remember.
"It was a surprise to many people, yes," he murmured.
"From what I have heard," – no doubt from his son, the little brat – "he is getting along rather well with Hiram Nott's boy. And has even been seen standing up for Gryffindors."
"True," Severus said. "Nott has certainly been keeping the boy under observation, as it would behoove many of us to do."
"Mm." Lucius poured himself another drink, ignoring the small sigh from Narcissa. "I should hope Draco sees the merit in that, as well."
"As to that," Severus said, "there seems to be some rivalry between Mr. Potter and Draco. While I heartily approve of activities that will make both boys strive to be and do their best, I have noticed a tendency for their interactions of this nature to spill over past the House boundaries."
"Thus breaking rule one, eh Severus?"
"Exactly." Severus smiled a little. "I'm sure you can see how I would be concerned."
"I do. I will speak to Draco."
As if he didn't already do so every day, Severus thought. Soon he was able to take his leave.
Immediately upon returning, he sought out Dumbledore, to let the Old Codger know that his precious Golden Boy (albeit with green and silver trim) was under scrutiny from Malfoy at least, and that this same personage was going to Hungary next week. There had been odd rumblings from that area, specifically Romania, Hungary and Albania, over the last few years, and with the Brat Who Garnered Too Much Attention now at Hogwarts, there were many more precautions they would need to take, against former Death Eaters, and even against a return of Voldemort. Severus wasn't fool enough to think he was gone for good, and Dumbledore shared his feelings.
He knew this was unlikely to be the kind of quiet, uncomplicated year he always appreciated, and at the center of the hurricane was one green-eyed boy.
TBC . . .
A/N: Thank you everyone, for your support on this story! It's great fun to write, and it's interesting developing the ways in which this one change can wreak havoc on the rest of Harry's Hogwarts career. Eclairs and cocoa for everyone who reviews!
*Chapter 11*: Chapter 11
Better Be Slytherin! – Chapter 11
By jharad17
Disclaimer: Not mine. Alas.
Summary: As a first year, Harry is sorted into Slytherin instead of Gryffindor, and no one is more surprised than his new Head of House.
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Previously:
When class was over, he prepared a bin of black beetles for Potter to crush into powder during his detention tonight, with explicit written instructions, as he would not be there to supervise. Amazingly, he knew he could trust the boy to do his detention as assigned.