Part One / Chapter Seven
Every ounce of happiness drained from Venus' face as she stepped into Snape's dungeon.
Constance whined all the way to her seat instantly shutting up when Snape glanced her way. The blinds had been drawn casting away any bit of sunlight. The Potions Professor glanced grimly at all of the Gryffindors. His gaze never meeting the Slytherins.
"Settle down," said Snape coldly, slamming the door behind him. He never found a need to repeat himself or bark out orders; the moment the class heard that door close, quiet had fallen and the students became as still as glass. His presence merely causing an effect on the class' behavior.
"Before we begin today's lesson," said Snape, sweeping over to his desk and staring around at them all, "I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of
this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an 'Acceptable' in your O.W.L., or suffer my . . . displeasure."
His gaze lingered this time upon Neville, who gulped. "After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me," Snape went on. "I take only the very best into my N.E.W.T. Potions class, which means that some of us wil certainly be saying good-bye."
As cold-blooded as Snape's voice was Venus didn't fret. She was easily one of the best students in his class; Hermione as well. Snape stared at Harry following his last sentence, curling his lip. The boy was indeed horrible at Potions, but a number of Slytherins shared that same title. Snape's favoritism blinded him from anything Slytherins did, it was unjustifiable and just pure bitterness.
"But we have another year to go before that happy moment of farewell," said Snape softly, "so whether you are intending to attempt N.E.W.T. or not, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high-pass level I have come to expect from my O.W.L. students."
"Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: the Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation. Be warned: If you are too heavy-handed with the ingredients you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing." Venus sat up a little straighter, her expression one of the utmost attentiveness. "The ingredients and method"— Snape flicked his wand — "are on the blackboard" — (they appeared there) — "you wil find everything you need" — he flicked his wand again — "in the store cupboard" — (the door of the said cupboard sprang open) — "you have an hour and a half. . . . Start."
Just as Venus had predicted; a piece of cake. She waited her turn to grab the ingredients from the cupboard. She cradled them carefully in her arms about to set them on the table when she glanced at Harry. He only had the powdered moonstone, porcupine quills and unicorn horn; he was forgetting the syrup of helleborn.
Fifth year had already brought Harry enough dread. The stares. The whispers. The gossip. His argument with Seamus the previous night. Venus decided the least she could do was help him avoid Snape's foulness. She hated her sympathetic tendencies. She turned on her heels and grabbed another vial of helleborn, hiding it in her sleeve. Snape crossed down between their desks and back up. When his back was turned away, she slid the vial from her sleeve and placed it beside Harry's cauldron.
At first his brow furrowed, then a flash of realization shown on his face. Venus turned around and continued working on her potion. She made sure to work extra slow so Constance could follow what she was doing. The contents in her cauldron changed into every color of the rainbow, settling for a white shade after she'd added the final ingredient. After letting the potion simmer, silver vapor rose from her cauldron.
"A light silver vapor should now be rising from your potion," called Snape, ten minutes before the time limit was up. "Time is up, drop everything."
Snape examined everyone's cauldrons, frowning shamefully over Neville's and Seamus'. He walked past her and Constance, the silver vapor evaporated from both their potions. He only nodded and walked to Harry, Hermione and Ron.
He looked past Ron's horrid potion to look at Harry's. The same silver vapor rising from his potion. Snape stood there for a while, like he was looking for something wrong with Harry's potion.
"Looks like you do have a brain in that weirdly shaped head, Potter," Snape crowed. "For everyone who succeeded with their potions, fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name and bring it up to my desk for testing," said Snape. He looked back down toward Harry, "some of you surprised my today."
Venus softly placed her flagon on Snape's desk, turning away quickly to avoid making eye contact with him. She feared if she looked him right in the eye, she'd turn to stone. Constance had found Cho outside and began speaking up a conversation with her cousin. Venus grabbed her bag and books, stepping out of the dungeon.
"Venus," said Harry approaching her nervously. "I just wanted to thank you. For helping me in there, you could've gotten in trouble or caught—"
"Don't thank me, Potter," Venus cut him off to stop him from chattering away like a parrot. "I could tell you weren't in the mood to be barked at by him."
"You're amazing—" Harry stopped himself. "I mean, you're a good friend. If we are friends?"
"Having a decent conversation first would need to be on our application before we commit to a friendship," said Venus. Harry smiled, nodding at Venus' remark.
"And I wanted to apologize for last night. . ." Harry muttered. "I shouldn't have pried. I don't do well with being left in the dark, and I know nothing about you."
Venus smiled looking at Harry; her eyes sparkling. "Next Hogsmeade trip, then you can know everything about me."
"Really?" Harry asked with a furrowed brow.
Venus gave an enthusiastic smile. "When hell freezes over." She began walking away from him.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry shouted over the crowd of students flooding out of the classroom.
Venus spun around and began walking backwards, still watching him intently. "It means your chances are slim to none!"
authors note.
Venus is too nice for her own good.