The Boy Who Never Was - A Harry Potter Fanfic

As we ate, I turned to Harry. "Make sure to check through the potions text before our first class."

He frowned. "Why? It's the first class—how hard can it be?"

Fred and George leaned in conspiratorially, lowering their voices as if about to reveal some great secret. "Oh, Snape? Absolute menace," Fred declared, shaking his head. "If he had his way, we'd all be in detention before breakfast."

"No sense of humor, that one," George added, piling extra sausages onto his plate. "I mean, sure, he technically teaches potions, but it's mostly just an excuse for him to glower at students and ruin lives."

"You'd think he bathes in vinegar the way he's always scowling," Fred muttered. "I've never seen the man smile."

"I have," George countered. "It was when he deducted fifty points from Gryffindor because Lee Jordan sneezed too loud."

As the twins continued their Snape-bashing, I caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of my eye. Professor Snape was standing at the far end of the Great Hall, a goblet in hand, his dark eyes locked on our table. His expression was unreadable, but the deep furrow of his brow suggested he was not, in fact, amused.

I casually reached for my pumpkin juice. "You might want to lower your voices."

"Why?" George asked, still grinning. "It's not like he has supernatural hearing—"

"Because Snape is literally standing over there," I interrupted, nodding toward the looming figure of the Potions Master.

Both twins froze, their faces draining of color as they turned their heads ever so slightly. The sight of Snape frowning at them like they were a particularly annoying stain on his robes was enough to shut them up immediately.

"Well," Fred said, clearing his throat. "On second thought, maybe he's not that bad."

"Yeah," George agreed, forcing a smile. "Maybe he just needs a good laugh."

"Or a hug," I added, smirking.

Fred shuddered. "I'd rather hug a three-headed Cerberus."

Without another word, the twins turned their attention back to their food, suddenly very interested in their breakfast. I made a mental note to remind them later that insulting Snape in a less-than-crowded room was never a good idea.

I turned back to Harry, smirking as I prepared to put him on the spot. Just as I was about to speak, I noticed Snape giving one last glare in our direction before sweeping out of the Great Hall, his robes billowing like an overdramatic bat. Perfect. Now, back to business.

"Do you know what precious ingredient you can find in the stomach of a goat?" I quizzed.

"Uh, no?"

"Do you know the difference between aconite and monkshood?"

"Er—"

"Do you know the key ingredients for the Draught of the Living Death?"

Harry shook his head, looking thoroughly bewildered.

"A bezoar is found in a goat's stomach," I explained. "Aconite and monkshood are the same plant, also called wolfsbane. And asphodel and wormwood are key for the Draught of the Living Death. It's crucial to know these things."

Harry looked thoroughly chastened. "Why do you know all this?"

"Because I'm naturally brilliant," I said with a grin. "And because Snape hates Gryffindors more than Filch hates cleanliness. So we need every edge we can get."

I finished my meal first and had to nudge Hermione, who was too engrossed in her book to eat.

"Eat faster," I urged. "We need to explore the castle and find the best route to class."

Reluctantly, she put down her book and ate quickly. After breakfast, we walked through the castle, mapping out the optimal route to our classes. The ancient corridors were filled with twisting staircases and moving portraits, but we managed to figure it out.

Returning to the common room, we packed our extended bags with the necessary books and headed to our first class: Potions.

We arrived thirty minutes early and claimed seats at the front. Hermione and I spent the time reviewing the text together, determined to be prepared for whatever Snape had in store.

The day was just beginning, and I had a feeling it was going to be anything but boring.

As we waited, the classroom steadily filled up, students murmuring amongst themselves as they settled into their seats. I noticed Ron and Harry sitting together, looking equally uncertain about what was to come. Just as the last few students took their places, Snape swept into the room, his black robes billowing like a thunderstorm. The room instantly quieted, the sheer presence of the man extinguishing any lingering chatter.

"There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class," he announced, his voice cold and cutting. "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..." stares at Draco Malfoy "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, and even put a stopper in death.."

The room remained silent.

"But, then again, maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts with abilities so formidable to feel confident enough, TO NOT PAY ATTENTION!" As he glared into Harry who was writing.

Ron who was seated next to him elbowed Harry who quickly put his quill away.

"Mr. Potter, our new celebrity" This moment looked very uncomfortable for Harry.

Snape's eyes glinted. "Tell me, what would I get if I added asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Hermione's hand shot up like a missile.

Harry's eyes flickered with recognition. "A powerful sleeping potion known as the Draught of the Living Death."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Impressive, where would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?"

That missile kept flying.

"In the stomach of a goat," Harry replied confidently.

Snape's lips twitched. was that almost a smile?!

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

I calmly grabbed the flying missile and forced it down slowly as I chuckled quietly "Have some pride woman."

"They're the same plant, sir. Also known as aconite," Harry answered.

The room fell silent. Snape's expression was unreadable as he stared at Harry, seemingly reevaluating his previous assumptions.

"Three points to Gryffindor, but please be sure to pay attention in class" he announced curtly.

He flicked his wand, and ingredients appeared on the board. "Today, we will be brewing a simple potion: the Boil-Cure. Instructions are on the board. Begin."

Hermione shot me a glare but we still worked efficiently, measuring out crushed snake fangs and dried nettles with precision. Across the room, Neville's cauldron was already emitting purple smoke.

"Stir clockwise, Neville!" I hissed.

Despite my advice, Neville's potion exploded, coating everyone nearby in green goo. Snape's lip curled in disdain.

"Five points from Gryffindor. Mr. Weasley, please take Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Finnegan to the hospital wing." he sneered.

Neville looked devastated and in pain.

Seamus was not faring any better.

Hermione and I managed to finish our potion perfectly. Snape inspected it, his expression unreadable.

"Acceptable," he muttered.

As class ended, Snape's voice cut through the chatter. "Potter. A word."

Harry stiffened but walked up to Snape's desk.

The class gaped in disbelief as we all left.

Hermione and I waited for Harry outside of class.

As Harry rejoined us, I grinned. "See? Told you it would come in handy."

He looked at me, wide-eyed. "You're a lifesaver."

"Naturally," I said with a wink.

"But how did you know what questions he would ask?"

"Coincidence" I said with a shrug and a smirk.

The day had only just begun, and it was already proving to be unforgettable. And if this morning was any indication, I had a feeling things were only going to get more chaotic from here.