I'm Not That Naïve ~ Part I

Harry Potter sat in Potions Class, pointedly ignoring the glare emanating from Draco Malfoy. He had talked with another Griffindor for a while, but gave up when the conversation kept drifting toward his scar. So instead he tried to find some hint in the room about what they would be doing in class that day.

The summer before his sixth year, Harry had received the letter containing the results from his O.W.L.s from Professor McGonagall. His hands had been shaking as he opened the letter slowly, a bead of sweat running down his cheek. More than anything (other than the fall of Voldermort or a proper family) Harry wanted to be an Auror. His gaze ran the length of the paper anxiously before finally coming to rest on Potions. Outstanding. He could have jumped for joy, hooting his relief and joy (if the Dursley's weren't having company at the moment down stairs). While the thought of having to endure Professor Snape another whole two, maybe three years wasn't appealing, the thought of fulfilling his dream was. Now as he started his seventh and final year at Hogwarts, he was wondering if he would make it.

The dungeon doors banged open and out of the corner of his eye he could see the swirling black robes that were his Potions Professor. He watched as the forty some wizard stormed down the rows of desks, black folds of cloth billowing behind him.

The Potions Master reached his desk and pivoted on his foot, staring malevolently down his hooked nose. He summoned the name list effortlessly, his soulless black eyes roaming over it as he called out each name.

"Ah, Harry Potter, I see our very own celebrity has rejoined us again this year" he said softly, his eyes flitting up to meet emerald green ones.

"It is good to see you are in such good spirits as always, Professor" he replied coolly, never dropping his gaze.

"Five points from Griffindor for your cheek, Mr. Potter"

Harry's lips twitched. Nothing had changed, and it probably never would.

The Potions Master continued with the role call which didn't take long, seeing as how this was a very hard class to get into and not many people wanted to be in it.

"In this class you will learn to brew fame, bottle death, and stopper truth. A few of you are here because of your undeniable hard work and dedication to the art and refined understanding in brewing potions. Others, because of dumb luck" Here, his glittering black eyes rested on Harry who stared stonily back, ignoring the Slytherin's sniggering.

"Tell me Potter, what do you get when you add powdered Unicorn horn to werewolf draught?" he drawled.

"A dangerous poison that takes a whole month to take effect. Often mistaken for influenza, until it is too late."

"What are the correct ingredients for PolyJuice, Potter?" When Harry answered correctly, he raised a sculpted eyebrow before shooting out one last question. "Where do you find the Bloustglen pearl, Potter?"

Surprised at the question, knowing that Snape considered it to advanced for him to know, he smiled disconcertingly at his professor. "In the belly of a Wyvern that has eaten a basilisk, professor"

"I thought after all the years you had spent in my classroom, under my rules, Mister Potter, that you would know that I do not allow any form of cheating." His silken voice grated on Harry's nerves, but he knew all to well the consequences of his retort, never the less he shrugged.

"I wasn't" Harry replied in an equally silken soft voice.

"And lying as well?" he clucked disapprovingly. "Ten points from Griffindor" The Slytherins snickered. Snape continued, "Today you will be concocting the Truth Potion, Veritserum. The instructions are on the board, you may begin".

Magically the instructions appeared on the board, written in perfect cursive handwriting. Harry read each line carefully, putting each line to memory.

Cut the Mandrake root into thin slivers…Add five slivers, rotating counterclockwise seven times before raising the heat…crush ten sharks' teeth…

Dark blue steam rose from his simmering cauldron and he could feel his spirits rise, maybe this year he could prove himself. He slowly added the powdered shark teeth, stirring the mixture carefully.
The corner of Harry's lips twitched. He had read, and studied, several books on potions avidly over the summer. Putting every ingredient and concoction to memory, Harry was pleased to see he had alienated the Potions Master. Even now his emerald green eyes caught sight of the dark, imposing form making his way threw the rows of cauldrons, sneering at Griffindor's potion to the glee of watching Slytherins.
A bead of sweat ran down his neck, disappearing beneath his white collar. His glasses threatened to slide down off his nose, before he hastily pushed them back, wiping away the perspiration from his face. He carefully counted out each minute; mentally calculating how much more time was needed before adding each ingredient.
Feeling a presence behind him he knew it was near the end of class. Snape always picked him last.
"Professor?" he asked quietly, continuing his analysis of the simmering clear brew.
"Potter" he sneered softly, watching the wispy strands of blue steam rise toward the ceiling.
Harry noticed how Snape was beside him instead of hovering over his shoulder; maybe the Potions Master wasn't as imposing as he thought. He cocked his head, his curiosity burning. Yes, there was no denying it. Those piercing black eyes were a little closer to his own this year.
"Find something amusing, Potter, I daresay your attempts at Potions certainly are" Harry was dimly aware of Draco's group of Slytherins chortling in the background.
"Thank you, sir" he mumbled, ignoring the peals of laughter drifting over from the corner.