Miss Slytherin

Book 6: Chapter 9

"My name is Professor Horace Slughorn, and from now on, I will be your potions professor," he spoke in a jolly tone, still scanning the room for faces.

"Hide me, maybe shove me in a pot with the rest of your plants," Finley grumbled under her breath, slouching as she avoided Slughorn's gaze. She already got the impression that he was going to show her off as one of his old students' children, Harry can be the poster child for the Potters, thanks.

"I think he's a good man," Neville muttered for her to hear, though, in his mind, he too didn't want to be in the center of anyone's attention at the moment. After that Slugclub introductory meeting at the train, he was slightly embarrassed that all he was known for was the boy whose parents went insane after being tortured by a death eater.

"I don't like him," Finley puts it simply, perching her elbows on the table, staring at the back of her Slytherin friend's heads.

"So far, you don't really like a lot of new teachers since day one in the first year," Neville stated, the new Professor's welcoming speech was far from his mind, and at the moment he was looking at Finley who found the empty cauldron more fascinating.

"You're right about that one, except, the only teacher I did like was Remus," Finley grinned. "He was the best among all of them."

"Yeah, giving away chocolate, among others I mean," Neville laughed. It was then that a pair of boys walked in that both Finley and Neville looked forward to the first time. "Speaking of Tweedle-dee and Tweedle dum," she spoke. She could see how out of place her brother and his best friend were, she could also sense the delight in Slughorn's demeanor sensing that he had a hand on this.

"Ah, Harry my boy, I was beginning to worry," Slughorn smiled, facing the boys. "Fortunately with someone, I see."

"Ron Weasley, sir," Ron responded, a little embarrassed with the eyes that were trained on him and Harry. "I'm dreadful at potions, menacingly so, I'm propitious—"

"Nonsense, any friend of Harry is a friend of mine," Slughorn says. "Get your books out and take a seat."

"But we didn't get books for this subject, sir. We didn't—"

"Don't worry, get an old one from the cupboard," Slughorn waved it off before turning to the class as he started his potion introductions. Finley didn't even bother listening at this point, instead, she watched as both Ron and Harry fought for something in the cupboard.

"I have concocted these potions this morning, do any of you have any idea what these might be?" Slughorn asked, scanning the room, once more for eager students. Finley lost interest once he smelled pine and peppermint, she knew what they were, she didn't particularly like the one where she smelled the familiar scent of pine. She sees Hermione raise her hand among the other girls who were at the front, none of the other girls knew. Slughorn's eyes trained on Hermione, delighted, "Yes, Miss?"

"Granger, sir," Hermione responds, walking forward towards the cauldrons that had the potions. Finley could barely see from where she and Neville were stationed, and so she urged her friend to go on forward, not having the motivation to do it herself.

"This one is Veritaserum, a truth-telling potion," Hermione started. "And that would be Amorentia," Hermione gulped, a certain smell already produced for her nose that she couldn't deny that was attracting her. "The most powerful potion in the world."

"Through it, it would smell different to each person who smelled it according to what attracts them," she says rather squeamishly. "For example I smell freshly mown grass, parchment, spearmint," Hermione started to whisper, growing more attracted to the potion. "And toothpaste," she says snapping out of the daze and walking backward back to the group.