"Neither Is Well Developed"

Potions Class was always held in the castle dungeons.

In the original story, Potions was one of the classes Harry feared most. More precisely, he thoroughly disliked the Potions professor, the Slytherin Head of House. But Rose had nothing to worry about. That gloomy "Professor Snape," who loved to spew venom exclusively at Gryffindors, was currently just a first-year student as tall as she was (perhaps not even that tall).

The current Potions professor, Professor Slughorn, was a potbellied old man who was always smiling. His favorite thing to do was collect the "valuable" students he had taught, then casually mention his little connections with important people during Potions Class.

Before going to sleep yesterday, Rose had made up her mind to ask Slughorn after class today whether he needed someone to help prepare Potions ingredients part-time.

The dungeon was much colder and damper than Gryffindor Tower, and Rose regretted not putting on another sweater that morning, even though it was a hand-me-down from Marge and was still too big for her. But that would have been much better than her current situation: she kept moving her cold fingers, trying to make them warm and nimble.

At the front of the classroom, Professor Slughorn was expressing his regret that the previous Minister for Magic, Nobby Leach, had been forced to resign due to illness. He claimed that he had accepted an invitation from Leach last Christmas and that he had heard Leach could only spend the rest of his life at St. Mungo's.

Rose and Mary, who had partnered with her, had grown drowsy listening and jolted awake just before their heads hit the cauldron. Rose looked around, trying to clear her head, and saw Snape, who was partnered with Lily, staring gravely at the professor. His calm expression could not hide the fervent longing in his eyes.

To Rose's surprise, Potter and Black were also staring intently at Professor Slughorn, and Potter even nodded in agreement from time to time. Rose leaned to the side, and sure enough, the two boys were secretly stuffing the Horned Slugs from the table into their trouser pockets.

Suddenly, Rose met a pair of eyes.

Black's hands never stopped moving. He merely lifted his chin slightly and haughtily, staring straight at Rose with his gray eyes.

"Claude-" Black silently called her name and ordered her, "Quiet."

Rose gave him a wicked smile of a kind she had seen online in her previous life, then turned away as if nothing had happened, pretending not to hear Potter and Black furiously calling her name behind her while trying to keep their voices down.

Finally, after more than half the class had passed, Professor Slughorn remembered that he was supposed to be teaching Potions rather than giving a personal presentation titled "My Connections in the Wizarding World," and told them each to complete a Cure for Boils.

Mary claimed she wasn't very good at Potions, just as she hadn't been good at chemistry experiments at her previous school. But Rose thought the main reason was simply that Mary hated touching the slimy slugs with her hands—she had seen Mary secretly gag twice.

The Cure for Boils was a simple but highly practical potion. The girls at Hogwarts going through puberty were more than happy to get a dose from Madam Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing and see their faces smooth again the next day.

By the time class was nearly over, Rose had brought the potion in their cauldron to a clear, dark green.

"Absolutely perfect!" Professor Slughorn's voice came from beside Rose. He was standing next to Lily and Snape's cauldron, looking with satisfaction at the potion inside.

"I daresay this is the most perfect Cure for Boils I've seen this year! Severus, and... oh, perhaps I could know the name of the girl beside you?" he asked kindly, patting his large belly.

"Lily Evans, Professor!" Snape said eagerly.

"Oh, how are you related to Heathcote Evans?"

"I don't think I am, Professor. I'm Muggle-born," Lily said.

"Oh, I mean, of course that doesn't matter, my dear." Professor Slughorn looked quite surprised and changed the subject. "Heathcote was a clever Ravenclaw, one of the gifted students I taught. It's just a pity she ultimately chose to work at a Muggle hospital. You're like Severus; you really ought to come to our house!"

"I don't think so, Professor. I think I'm better suited to Gryffindor!" Lily replied bluntly.

Professor Slughorn merely smiled and praised the two of them a little more before patting his belly and returning to his seat behind the desk.

Rose and Mary bottled their potion. In the sunlight, it was a clear, mysterious dark green-Professor Slughorn gave it an E.

Lily and Snape had already left the classroom. Rose told Mary to go back to the Great Hall first, as she still needed a word with Professor Slughorn.

When she climbed the stairs out of the underground classroom, she saw Snape talking to Lily at the corner.

"He was right, you really should have come to Slytherin!" Snape said excitedly to Lily, his expression even more animated than it had been while listening to Professor Slughorn's speech.

"Ha—if I'd been sorted into Slytherin, I'd rather have dropped out and gone to Durmstrang." Potter's voice came from the other side of the corridor, full of exaggerated sarcasm.

Snape immediately put on a wary expression, gripping his wand tightly in his right hand and fixing his eyes on the space behind Lily.

Rose saw Potter, Black, Lupin, and Pettigrew emerge from the darkness. Potter and Black wore excited smiles, while Lupin's expression showed that he did not approve of what the two were doing, though he did not step forward to object. And Pettigrew—the sight of him made Rose feel sick—was standing beside the three of them.

The eleven-year-old Pettigrew did not yet look like the fat, balding middle-aged man from the films. Standing next to the thin Lupin, he did not seem overly short, but the gloating expression on his face made Rose very uncomfortable.

"Hmph, you lot, all brawn and no brains-" Snape retorted mockingly, refusing to back down.

"But neither seems very well developed in your case," Black cut in nastily.

"Pfft-" Rose had always been unable to help laughing whenever she read that line. She thought the Sirius Black of the original story was amusingly sharp-tongued.

All the more so now that she was seeing it happen in person; she really couldn't hold it in.

"Who's there?!" Potter shouted.

Rose had no choice but to step out from around the other corner and look at them with a calm expression.

"Rose!" Lily said. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd left with Mary."

"Oh—I had a word with Professor Slughorn..." She glanced at Black instinctively.

"You-arrogant..." Snape's thin face flushed bright red, and a string of obscenities spilled from his mouth.

Potter and Black quickly raised their wands, and Pettigrew began spitting at Snape.

"Front teeth-"

Black's spell was angrily interrupted by Lily, who stood in front of Snape, shielding him behind her like a hen protecting her chick.

"Enough, you're bullying him!" Lily's eyes were startlingly green in the firelight as she glared at Potter. "Let's go, Severus!"

She didn't even acknowledge Rose.

"Hey, I have to say, she's got quite a temper." Potter casually slipped his wand back into his trouser pocket, raked a hand through his messy hair, and nudged his best mate with his elbow. "What did she call him? Snivellus?"

Rose took a deep breath.

"Great, now Lily's angry with me too," she said dryly, then glared at them just as angrily.

"We didn't tell you to laugh out loud," Black said leisurely.

"It's all your fault-" Rose shouted at him. "You're too-too..."

"What about me?" Black looked at her with his arms folded.

The words caught in Rose's throat. She couldn't very well say it was all his fault for being nasty and funny, could she?

"What about you, Claude?" Black lowered his arms and fixed his gray eyes on her. "I warned you in class. Did you go and tell on us just now?"

"Tell on you?" Rose repeated irritably, as if searching her memory for Black's warning. "I wouldn't do something so childish." She waved a hand.

"I hope not," Black said coldly.

"Lunch is about to end," Lupin suddenly reminded them.

Pettigrew's stomach cooperated by growling twice.

"Peter, you ate five pieces of bread this morning!" Potter stared at him in disbelief, and Peter Pettigrew laughed awkwardly.