Harry Potter's revenge

She nodded. "I did. And Miss Patil here can tell you why."

"Well, I could… or I could just ask you why you're here." She made to look confused. "Sophie's here. Why shouldn't I be here?" Sophie glowed.

Patil frowned. "But are you here as Miss Granger the muggleborn, or are you here as Miss Granger of the House of Granger, Vassal of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Slytherin?" Sophie smile turned to confusion.

Turpin's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Can't I just be here as Hermione?" "You could," Patil started, "but I don't believe it. I don't trust you."

"Padma!" Sophie cried out. "Why did you say that? Hermione's nice." "Is she?" Turpin interjected. "What about Harry Potter?" The girl glowered. "Why is all of Slytherin house ignoring him?"

Her eyes widened. "I'm not—"

"—Yes you are! Harry Potter's nice, and all of Slytherin is ignoring him! Why?"

Sophie and Patil leaned back from the ranting burnt-brown haired girl.

She stared at the girl, dumbfounded. She swallowed. What could she do? Explain? The idea was unthinkable.

She suddenly realised the greenhouse was deadly quiet. Professor Sprout was nowhere to be seen. She felt many eyes all fixed on her. Lisa Turpin's eyes burrowed into hers, flared and angry. "Why?" The repeated accusation stabbed her.

Her heart hammered. Her chest tightened.

"I…I…"

Her eyes started to sting.

A chair scrapped on the stone flagstones. "Thank you, Lisa." Harry's cheerful voice wafted over her. "But it's okay. It's just something I'm working out with my fellow Slytherins." Slytherins scoffed throughout the greenhouse.

Turpin suddenly seemed to realise that everyone was watching her. The witch glanced towards some of the Darker tables, suddenly nervous. "Oh… Okay then," Turpin trailed off. "I really do appreciate you standing up for me like that, though. They'll all come around eventually, I'm sure." She could hear the grin in his voice.

More disbelieving scoffs filled the glasshouse. The chair scrapped again and the general hubbub slowly started up again.

She looked at the burnt-brown haired witch and saw cheeks tinted with pink.

Sophie gasped. "Hermione, are you crying?"

She looked around wildly. The world was slightly blurry. "No." She clamped down her rising feelings. "No, I'm not."

Sophie reached into the pocket of her robes and passed her a handkerchief. "Here." She took it and dabbed at her slightly watery eyes. "Thanks, Sophie."

On the other side of the table, Patil and Turpin watched her with wide eyes.

Sophie smiled. "No worries, That's what friends are for, right?"

Hermione.

She smiled back. If only Daphne could be more like that.

Daphne shivered.

The potions lab dripped, cold and dark. For every three torches in the Slytherin common room, the potions lab had only one, and not the warm orange of a campfire. No, these were closed bluebell flames, flickering their dim light across gray, un-plastered stone walls. It felt like being submerged in an underwater cave, still lingering fumes filling her lungs as surely as water might drown the helpless and the trapped.

She watched Professor Snape billow to the front of the classroom, cloak rippling in the eddy of some unseen and unfelt current. No one moved.

Snape turned. "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making…"

The speech swept over her like a tide. Pretentiousness crashed on pretentiousness and told her little of their curricula for the next seven years.

"Potter!" Snape whirled on Harry, where she'd seen him sit at the back of the room. "What is the primary purpose of sycamore in potion making?" "As an agitent, Professor."

Snape paused and seemed to search Harry's eyes for an age.

He whirled on her. "Greengrass, name a potion that uses boomslang skin." "Polyjuice, Professor."

Snape paused again, but this time only for a moment.

"Granger!" Snape turned a fraction to where Granger sat a few feet from her. "How many turns does a simple boil cure potion require?" "Seven, Professor — three clockwise and four anticlockwise."

Snape paused… again. "Mmm… Let's try another. Granger, how long must you keep a strengthening solution at boil before adding porcupine quills?" "Thirty minutes, Thirty-five if the moon is gibbous, Professor."

"What is the catalyst used in the creation of elixir of life?" "A philosopher's stone, Professor."

"What should you do immediately after adding death-cap to a solution containing activated salamander concentrate?" "Vanish the solution, shield yourself, or run away if you don't have a wand."

"…"

"…" "What potion… might you add silver to?"

Hermione Professor?"

hesitated.

"…Wolfsbane,

Snape pounced. "Why? Silver is toxic to werewolves."

"It… it might act as to interfere with some aspects of the curse. Perhaps there are other potions elements that could counteract the harmful aspects of the toxicity?"

Snape sneered. "You're just guessing."

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