Snape's doubts

Snape stood at the front of the classroom, tapping his wand against the desk every so often.

"Today, you will be brewing the Swelling Solution. The recipe is on the blackboard. Work in pairs, and first bring your ingredients over to your cauldrons."

Snape seemed rather listless today.

Even when the Gryffindor students knocked over the cauldron stand by the door on their way into the classroom, he merely lifted his eyelids without offering so much as a sarcastic remark.

Fred and George exchanged a glance, each seeing a flicker of surprise on the other's face.

"Looks like the old bat's in an especially foul mood today," Fred whispered as he took dried nettles out of the storage cupboard.

"It's not a foul mood. He just can't be bothered with us at all." George jerked his chin toward the front of the classroom. "Look at him. He's been standing there staring into space for at least three minutes."

Gerald took his usual seat in the back row and glanced at Snape, who seemed a little out of sorts.

Snape really was acting strange today.

Snape was indeed lost in thought. Something else entirely occupied his mind.

"Damn it, what ingredients was that potion made from?"

He had spent three whole nights studying the bottle of potion he had bought at the Hog's Head for ten Galleons.

He had smelled it, dipped a silver knife into it and tasted a little on the tip of his tongue, and analyzed it with all sorts of detection spells. And the result?

He had learned nothing.

The potion truly contained none of the potion ingredients he recognized.

It did not even contain the most basic dittany extract.

Yet its effects were undeniable. It really did strengthen the body.

To a man who took pride in his mastery of Potions, a potion with completely unfamiliar ingredients was like an unsolvable riddle.

And being unable to find the answer was a torment in itself.

Gerald took the ingredients from the storage cupboard and set them on the table.

Dried nettles, powdered snake fangs, sliced bat spleens, pufferfish eyes, and a vial of moonstone solution.

The recipe for the Swelling Solution was somewhat more complex than the Cure for Boils they had brewed before, with a few more steps, but it was still well within the normal difficulty of a first-year course.

Once all the students were ready, Snape began the lesson.

Gerald noticed that even in a poor mood, Snape's teaching as a Potions professor had not suffered in the slightest.

He broke down the complicated steps clearly, giving precise instructions at every point where mistakes were likely. His tone remained scathing, but the content was faultless.

That was Snape.

He would not neglect his teaching simply because he was in a bad mood, nor would he deliberately teach something incorrectly because he disliked Gryffindor.

A little while later, after explaining all the precautions, Snape folded his arms across his chest.

"Now, you may attempt to brew an acceptable Swelling Solution."

Gerald prepared his ingredients according to the steps Snape had explained.

He took the weighed-out dried nettles from Lee Jordan and began grinding them in a mortar.

Lee Jordan assisted him from the side, mainly handing over ingredients and wiping the table.

Ever since he and Kenneth Towler had nearly burned through their cauldron while working together the previous week, he had gained a clear understanding of his own aptitude for Potions.

That only made him more determined to stick with Gerard Green.

The liquid in the cauldron gradually changed from a murky gray-green to a clear, pale purple, and a layer of tiny bubbles rose to its surface.

Gerald added the thin strips of bat spleen to the cauldron and slowly stirred counterclockwise three times with a glass rod.

After silently counting seven seconds, he added half a vial of moonstone solution as a stabilizer.

A dark figure appeared soundlessly behind him.

Gerald's spiritual sense quickly detected Snape behind him.

He continued stirring without turning around.

Snape stared into his cauldron for quite some time.

"Barely acceptable," Snape said through what sounded like gritted teeth. "Though your execution was precise, your handling of the bat spleens was overly conservative. You have lost at least ten percent of the potion's potency."

"Thank you for your guidance, Professor," Gerald said.

Whatever Snape said, replying with "Thank you, Professor" was always a safe choice.

It was hard to lash out at someone who met you with a smile. A little courtesy never hurt.

"Your performance in Potions is adequate for now, but do not imagine that this will earn you an Outstanding in my class."

"Understood, Professor."

Vivian Carrow tightened her grip on her Silver Stirring Rod, her brow creasing slightly.

She came from the Carrow family, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, with a pure-blood lineage that could be traced back to before Merlin's time.

She had grown up in the private Potions Room at her family's manor, identifying ingredients at three, memorizing recipes at five, and independently brewing basic potions at seven.

Before coming to Hogwarts, she had assumed her only rivals would be witches and wizards from pure-blood families like her own.

And what had happened?

Someone wearing secondhand robes, who had not even known about the wizarding world a few months ago, learned Charms faster than she did and brewed better potions, too.

Now even someone as scathing as Snape had said his performance in Potions was adequate.

And what about her?

Last month, she had confidently brewed the Cure for Boils she had practiced since childhood, only for Snape to give her an expressionless "Acceptable."

Carrow bit her lip and abruptly stood.

"Professor."

Snape turned and looked down at the silver-haired girl, his expression unchanged.

"Speak."

"In the standard recipe for the Swelling Solution, pufferfish eyes should be sliced lengthwise. Green sliced his crosswise. That clearly goes against the textbook's instructions."

She stared at the brown-haired boy's back as he stood before his cauldron, waiting for Snape's verdict.

Snape remained silent for a few seconds.

Then he turned to Gerald.

"Green, did you hear that?"

Only then did Gerald straighten and glance toward Carrow.

Just what you'd expect from the Carrow family. She certainly had a sharp eye.

But-

"I did. However, Miss Carrow, there is more than one way to prepare an ingredient. What matters is which method works better."

Gerald paused, then continued.

"Take sopophorous beans, for example. Many textbooks recommend slicing them to extract their juice, but crushing them with a knife actually releases it more easily."

Snape looked at Gerald, a rare flicker of astonishment appearing in his black eyes.

"...That is indeed correct. Sit down, Miss Carrow. And five points to Gryffindor."

"Snape actually gave Gryffindor points again!" Kenneth Towler said beside him, looking incredulous. "Last time it was the Cure for Boils, and this time it's the Swelling Solution. Gerald, did you put him under the Imperius Curse?"

Gerald thought nothing of it.

Please. Snape himself had discovered that method. How could he say he was wrong?

Fred leaned over from the side. "Unbelievable. Snape's actually being so gentle today."

Lee Jordan looked doubtful.

"Are you sure 'gentle' is the word you want to use?"

Fred opened his mouth, then looked down at the oddly colored liquid in his cauldron and fell silent for a moment.

"George, did we get the order backward?"

"Seems like it," George said.

"Were we supposed to add the bat spleens first, or the dried nettles?"

"No idea."

"Then how did we make this?"

"Went with our gut."

Fred looked at the green liquid, poured a little into a glass bottle, and held it up to the light.

"I reckon we could try handing it in."

"Are you sure? That stuff looks like it could kill someone who drank it."

"Not like we're going to drink it."

"..."

After inspecting a few more pairs of students, Snape's gaze settled on Gerald.

He had to admit that this Gryffindor student did have some talent for Potions.

No wonder even Dumbledore thought rather highly of him.

Gerald did not notice Snape watching him. His back was turned as he helped George salvage his cauldron of Swelling Solution.

As Snape stared at Gerald's back, his pupils suddenly contracted.

Strange. Why did he keep feeling that he had seen that figure from behind somewhere before?