𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒 / 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐒 / 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐏𝐀𝐖𝐒

𝟏𝟓 - 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞

𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟖𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟓

"It says cut."

The frustration was evident in your voice. Despite your study group only having been formed forty-five minutes ago, you were already prepared to drop everything and take Peter's advice of waiting another year before taking to the transformation.

Severus's beloved textbook sat open on the table between you, taunting you with its painfully vague instruction. You felt like tearing your hair out over this recipe, but he stayed ever so patient with you, walking you back through the steps as many times as it took for you to understand.

He licked his lips and pressed his knuckles into the desk, head cocked to the side as he tried to convince you of what he already knew. "Crush, I promise you."

"Okay! Fine, okay, we'll crush it," you blew a frizzled strand of hair out of your face and tapped a polished fingernail against the page of your book. "But there's no way we're adding four milligrams when it clearly says seven."

"If you add seven milligrams, you'll set this entire room aflame."

Your eyebrows knit together helplessly and you glanced up to see him biting back a bemused smile. Your little performance was the perfect source of entertainment for him. It wasn't every day he got a front-row seat to little miss perfect Potter's mental breakdown.

You rented out the Potions classroom for the rest of the afternoon, but the only way you secured it was through a particular promise you made to Slughorn where in you would accept his offer of an apothecary internship in Diagon Alley over the summer. Your head was still reeling thinking of different ways you could potentially get yourself out of that one.

"Fine!" you said, taking the pre-measured crushed capsules and sprinkling them into the bubbling black desktop cauldron. Severus launched into action, taking the stir stick and waving it around the pot until the concoction melted into a deep maroon color — just as the textbook described and not a single shade lighter.

You were still staring at your creation in awe when Slughorn waltzed up behind you with a collection of scrolls stacked tall in his arms. Taking a peek over your shoulder, he chuckled approvingly. "Brilliant work, Miss Potter! Absolutely brilliant!"

Severus's eye met yours over the rim of the cauldron and he met your confused glance with an encouraging half-smile.

"Uh...thank you, professor," you replied hesitantly, not entirely comfortable taking credit for what had been almost wholly your partner's work, but Severus has already lost interest in the conversation and was back to scribbling notes into his textbook, periodically reaching up to stir your potion.

"But of course, my dear! I am a firm believer in the notion that hard work deserves its proper recognition." Slughorn chuckled to himself and leaned in as far as the pyramid of scrolls would allow. "I say, it seems as though you've taken a special interest in the art of potions lately. Any particular reason?"

You glanced across the table where Severus was pretending not to listen, eyes trained down at the desk but ears pricked up from beneath his shoulder-length mop of raven-black hair. "No, sir," you said, pulling your textbook across the table and flittering with the page corners as a distraction. "I'm only looking forward to the internship this summer. Unless, of course, you've decided to give the recommendation to someone else instead?"

"No such luck!" He said, leaning back with a deep chuckle. If he noticed your smile twitch downward, he didn't choose to comment on it.

"Miss Potter," Slughorn continued, clearing his throat almost solemnly. "You must know by now of my habit of hosting a number of...gatherings...in the name of academic advancements throughout the semester?"