Harry Potter Breaking The Chains

The next day Harry and company had DADA first thing in the morning. They were all eager to find out what their new professor was like. Having had some rather interesting experiences with DADA professors in the past, they were weary and didn't know what to expect of this mysterious man. So they were rather surprised when he seemed perfectly normal… almost too normal.

The class had consisted of some theory followed by practical application, much like one of Professor McGonagall's or Flitwick's classes would be like. He had not seemed overly strict like the Gryffindor Head of House, but he hadn't been as excitable as Flitwick either. He wasn't surly like Snape, nor was he flakey like Trelawney. He didn't really have any defining characteristics that stuck out to Harry from the one class. His friends agreed with this assessment, but they were not especially comforted by his normalcy; instead, they found themselves skeptical. Normal could easily mean that he had some big secret that he was trying desperately to keep quiet. It would be just their luck.

Ron separated from Harry and Hermione as they headed down to the dungeons. Ron had not pulled off the O he needed on his Potion OWL to get into Snape's class, not that he seemed terribly bothered by it. Sure he had been thinking of becoming an auror after Hogwarts, but he couldn't complain at the lack of classes with Snape. Harry was outwardly frowning at the prospect of two more years of Snape, but he gained some satisfaction from the fact that he was doing it for more than the Potions NEWT. If only Snape knew he would be playing right into Harry's hands by continually taunting and berating him. It made Harry want to laugh, but he reined that emotion in. He needed to remain stoic and aloof for this to work.

As they approached the door to the classroom, they found a queue of students already waiting around. On one side of the hallway were Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott of Hufflepuff and Terry Boot, Lisa Turpin, and Padma Patil of Ravenclaw. On the other side stood the Slytherins: Draco Malfoy, ever present bodyguards absent, Pansy Parkinson, disgustingly fawning over Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Daphne Greengrass, Blaise Zabini, and Tracey Davis. It figured that the Slytherins would be the most heavily represented group. Snape was the only professor who obviously favored students in his own house.

As Harry and Hermione strode over to the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, Draco Malfoy stepped away from the wall, sneer in place. "Well, well," he drawled, "it appears fame is everything. What did you have to do to get into this class Potter? Sign a few autographs to the right people?"

"Nah, just aced my owl," Harry replied in a cheerful tone. He turned back to his friends only to be interrupted by the blonde haired Slytherin again.

"Not wise, Potter, turning your back on an enemy," the boy cautioned.

Harry laughed heartily as he turned to face Draco. "Enemy?" he choked between peals of laughter. "Voldemort is an enemy, Malfoy. You're just an annoyance: a fly buzzing around my head. Just be careful you don't get squashed." He turned back to his friends who were all laughing now.

Harry had already cast a shield on his back, but it proved to be unnecessary. Snape strolled down the corridor effectively halting Malfoy from doing whatever it was he had planned on doing. And Harry was sure that Malfoy had been planning something. The Potions Master didn't say a word as he threw open the doors to the classroom and swept inside, black robes billowing behind him. The class followed in reluctantly after him. The Slytherins upset at Harry's words and their inability to gain retribution while the rest were upset at the mere prospect of having a class with Snape.

"You know you really shouldn't egg him on like that," Hermione warned in his ear as they shuffled to one of the desks. "He may be just a spoiled little brat, but you don't know what he might be capable of."

"Relax, Hermione," Harry reassured his friend. "Malfoy's bark is much worse than his bite. If he somehow managed to catch me off guard, he doesn't have the ability to do any lasting harm."

Hermione didn't seem pleased by his answer, but Harry was saved from further lecture by Snape's icy voice. "Most of you are here because you have proved to be exceptional in the subtle art of potion making," he began. "Others here have never shown such an aptitude," his gaze locked onto Harry, "and I find myself wondering how you managed to make it into this class." He paused dramatically, as if waiting for Harry to answer the question that was so obviously directed at him.

After a moment he continued. "Nevertheless, those who managed to get into this class by any means other than skill will soon find themselves out the door as I will not tolerate incompetence in this class. If you are unable to keep up with the workload, I will not hesitate to drop you from the class."

"Now, the instructions are on the board." They appeared as he waved his wand behind him. "I expect you all to work alone and in silence." He turned and swept through the door leading to his office. The students all set in motion, setting up their cauldrons and preparing the potions. Harry followed the directions meticulously. He finished the potion shortly after Hermione. When he bottled it up and rose from his seat, he muttered to Hermione "Don't clear my cauldron just yet."

She shot him an apologetic look, remembering the time last year when Snape had smashed his bottle of potion after he had turned it in. Hermione had already cleared his cauldron for him, so he had nothing left to turn in. He had received a zero that day. The Potions Master glared as Harry handed the bottle over, but he did not drop it this time. As Harry turned to head back to his seat, the bell rang signifying the end of class. The students all began to pack up their things. Harry deliberately took his time. He noticed Hermione watching him closely, waiting for him to finish up so they could leave.

He whispered to her, "I've got to talk to him about something. I'll catch up with you later." She gave him an inquiring glance but nodded her acceptance and left the dungeon. The rest of the class was shuffling out of the classroom. Snape glared malevolently at Harry as the rest of the students left.

"Class time is over, Potter," he sneered. "I suggest you run back up to Gryffindor Tower before your fan club begins to think something happened to you."

"Actually, Professor Snape," Harry returned collectedly. "I was wondering if I might have a word with you." The Professor's face tightened, but he did not respond. "I wanted to thank you for the extra potions lessons you gave me last term," Harry said meaningfully. "I was wondering if you would consider continuing where we left off."

"As I remember, Potter," Snape spat, "you never took a single one of my lessons seriously, never put forth an ounce of effort into the subject. And your lack of progress led to that little fiasco at the end of the year. Not only that, you infringed on my privacy."

"I am sorry for that, sir," Harry responded coolly. "I let my curiosity get the better of me and did not think my decision through. I promise to never let anything like that happen again. Last year I was not inclined to take the extra lessons as seriously as I should have because no one saw fit to explain why they were necessary. I learned my lesson the hard way, and I'd like to make sure that nothing like that happens again."

Snape glared at him for a full minute before he spoke again, his tone tangibly frigid. "The last thing I need in my life is extra time with you, Potter. Why not ask the Headmaster for lessons. I'm sure he'd be more than happy to cater to your every whim."

"Professor Dumbledore seems to only want to treat me like a child, to lock me away where I'll be safe and protected. He wouldn't push me the way you would. You won't hold any punches. That's what I need if I want to be able to fight against Vol - You-Know-Who."

Surprise briefly flickered across the normally emotionless mask of the Potions Master. He recovered quickly enough and narrowed his eyes at the Gryffindor. "Thursday nights, 6:00, beginning next week. If you are late, if you don't put forth the effort, if you so much as breathe the wrong way, the lessons end. And if I ever catch you snooping into my personal affairs again," he paused as a huff escaped his nostrils. Harry briefly imagined that had he been a dragon, a plume of flame would have escaped with the rush of air. "I will make you wish you'd never been born."

Harry held back his smile knowing it would only infuriate the man, and Harry didn't want to push his luck just yet. "Thank you, sir," he said evenly. He turned on his heel and marched out the door. He smiled to himself as he walked up the staircases to the main level of the castle. He had about an hour to kill before lunch, so he decided to retire to his office for a bit of reading. By the time he left for lunch, Harry had finished the book on wards that he had been avidly reading the past couple days. He had started up a book on basic healing spells to polish off the rest of the time to lunch, be he resolved to visit the library at some point to see what books it had to offer on the subject. He found himself genuinely interested in learning as much as he could about wards.

He didn't get very far into the healing book, but he had made it a point to find books on that subject as well. With his luck, it was only a matter of time before he found himself in a scrape. Having some knowledge of healing spells could prove to be vital. Once he finished his current book, that would be another thing to look into in the library.

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