The Professor's Favor (Part 2)

The power passed down through bloodlines was almost eternal. The Black family was naturally suited to Dark magic; asking them to multitask with household magic like House-elves was impossible. Likewise, the Prince family were born Potions geniuses. Asking them to become Quidditch players was like asking a cripple to dance tap—it was not merely forcing the impossible, it was downright laughable.

Just as Slughorn would not ask Snape to brew a Boil-Cure Potion, Pomona did not need to handle beginner-level lessons like repotting Mandrakes. The overly enthusiastic Professor Slughorn had invited her into his office.

"Would you like some ice cream, or perhaps a little mead?" Slughorn asked with an attentive smile.

Pomona ignored him and inspected the Slytherin Head of House's furnishings.

She did not know what a true noble household was like, but the Slytherin Head of House's office was extraordinarily lavish. Green was naturally the dominant color, accented with plenty of silver.

Exquisite silk, magnificent chandeliers, finely crafted carpets—every detail here was extravagantly luxurious, utterly unlike Madam Sprout's home, which brimmed with the warmth of everyday life.

Pomona could be certain that Slytherin wizards had no interest whatsoever in learning household magic. Without House-elves, they probably would not even know how to wash a plate.

"That's Barty Crouch, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and his son, Barty Crouch Jr.," Slughorn said, pointing at a photograph in front of Pomona. "That boy will be coming to Hogwarts in another two years. What were we doing that day again? Oh, right, we went fishing. Quidditch is much too intense for people our age."

"What did you call me here for, Professor?" Pomona asked, utterly confused.

"That is what I ought to ask you, Miss Martin." Slughorn still handed her a goblet of mead. "I heard from Albus that a half-blood Veela would be attending our school this year. I truly never expected it to be you. Why hide your beauty? It is what so many girls desperately desire."

The first rule of Hufflepuff was to keep a low profile.

Pomona found it difficult to explain the reasons to such a high-profile Slytherin.

"If you do not mind," Pomona said, "I need to go back and prepare. That tree will wake up again tonight, and I still have homework to finish."

"If it is Potions homework, do not worry about it. You need not hand it in. Could you spend that little bit of saved time keeping this old man company?"

Pomona had to admit that Slytherins could be truly slick at times. So she sat down on the soft leather sofa.

"If you have something to say, please say it."

Slughorn did his utmost to suppress the smile at the corners of his mouth, but he could not conceal his delight. He used the opportunity of sealing the mead to organize his words, then turned around and said,

"As you can see, I am merely a poor Potions teacher. I have to teach all seven years by myself, and students in two of those years are preparing for their wizarding examinations. Yet I must prepare the materials used in every Potions class each day, so I need a great many helpers. For example, Lestrange, who taught your class today. Without his help, I truly do not know what I would do."

"So... you want me to help prepare the ingredients for Potions classes?"

"Oh, my dear Pomona, do you know Legilimency?" Slughorn burst out laughing. "Hogwarts has a very large greenhouse. Since Dorian became Head of House, it has been almost entirely abandoned. It is such a pity to see so many magical plants inside gradually wither away or lose their magic. It would be wonderful if someone could tend to them."

Pomona sneered inwardly. So this was what Slughorn was after.

"I heard the school provides Potions with funding to purchase ingredients..."

"No, the ingredients outside are of poor quality, and there are fakes mixed in. Many do not meet the requirements." Slughorn waved his hand before Pomona could finish. "Besides teaching, I also conduct experiments. Only high-quality potions can achieve the effects I desire. This is merely a small wish from an old man. Can you not grant it for me?"

Pomona could sense how anxious Slughorn was, and it made her feel as though she had grasped a weakness of his.

"What will you offer me in exchange, Professor?" Pomona asked.

"Anything," Slughorn declared magnanimously, apparently believing that an eleven-year-old child like Pomona would be easy to placate.

"Very well. I will go back and think about it." Pomona rose to her feet. "The use of the greenhouse requires our Head of House's approval."

"Merlin's trousers, who knows when Dorian will return?" Slughorn was clearly unable to wait. He was so agitated that he nearly leapt to his feet.

"Professor, today is my first day of school. I am still a first-year," Pomona reminded him. "Please be patient."

Slughorn sighed and forced a smile. "You are right. I was too hasty."

"Our top priority now is calming that crazed Whomping Willow. I need to look up some information. Can you give me a permit for the Restricted Section?"

"Why do you not ask Dumbledore directly?" Slughorn suddenly asked.

"The Headmaster? Why would I ask him?" Pomona froze for a moment. Compared to searching through books, directly asking the knowledgeable Headmaster did seem like a good idea.

"Nothing." Slughorn studied her thoughtfully for a while, then said, "You may leave."

"Yes, Professor." Pomona bowed to him, then got up and left the Slytherin Head of House's office. Just as she was about to close the office door, she caught sight of Professor Slughorn's back. He looked exhausted, as though he truly was as old as he claimed.

"How interesting." The instant the office door closed, she heard someone speak from the darkness. "You met the former Gryffindor Head of House this morning, and now the Slytherin Head of House. Your day has certainly been busy."

"Who's there?" Pomona raised her wand toward the darkness.

Slowly, a boy stepped out. His hair was still greasy, and a strong bitter scent clung to him. The Slytherin dungeons were even colder than Binns's ghostly classroom. Pomona's heart pounded as her fingertips began to tremble uncontrollably.

"What magic will you use against me? Scourgify, or the Unforgivable Curses?" Severus Snape drawled in a silky voice. A dimple appeared at the corner of his mouth, and his eyes narrowed with pleasure. His black robes blended almost perfectly into the darkness, emanating a suffocatingly dangerous air.

The person before her was utterly different from the awkward, withdrawn boy he had been in front of Lily Evans. In essence, he was no different from Lucius Malfoy. Both were skilled at hiding their true selves behind disguises.

Thinking about it now, Eddie Watt, who vomited at the sight of Professor McGonagall's Animagus form, was so adorable.

"Stay away from me, Snape!"

"Expelliarmus!" Snape suddenly raised his wand, and Pomona's wand fell from her hand.

"Do not point your wand at me unless you truly want to fight me." Snape enunciated each word. "If you dare do that again, I will make you suffer, Hufflepuff."

Pomona stared at Snape in terror. He seemed to enjoy being feared. With a sweep of his cloak, he left like a bat emerging from a cave.

Only after his footsteps could no longer be heard did Pomona crouch down, clutching her faintly aching wrist, and begin to cry softly.