Lost Cub

Chapter Eight

"Ah, yes," Professor Snape sneered. "Hunter Potter. Our new -- celebrity."

Hunter flinched, and most of the class snickered quietly. Hermione glared at Snape, while Neville gave Hunter a worried look.

"Smith."

"Here," Zacharias sniffed.

"Turpin."

"Here," Lisa said briskly.

Snape set down the roll and glared at the class. After a long silence, he said in a soft, icy voice, "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the minds, ensnaring the senses.... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death -- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Hunter stopped himself from giggling. Clearly, Professor Snape loved his subject; much like Hunter loved playing fetch with Dudley during full moon.

"Potter!" Snape barked, making Hunter flinch and press against Neville. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Hermione's hand shot up, and Neville smiled briefly. Snape ignored her.

"Um... isn't it Draught of Living Death, sir?" Hunter asked in a tiny voice.

Snape looked taken aback briefly. "Correct. It appears you can read," he sneered. He ignored Hunter's flinch and continued. "Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"Um, Apothecary stores, and a goat's stomach, sir," Hunter said softly.

"Five points from Gryffindor for cheek," Snape snapped.

"Sir, I'm not-"

"If you think I believe that trout that you are the heir of Hogwarts, you are sadly mistaken," Snape sneered. Hunter shrank back. "You can fool the Hat, but you can't fool me."

"Professor!" Hermione exclaimed angrily.

"Ten points from Ravenclaw for shouting at a teacher."

Hermione fumed silently.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Snape asked coldly.

Hunter flinched at the mention of wolfsbane and rasped, "There's no difference, sir. They're the same plant."

He heard Zacharias scoff behind him, and Hermione sent him a furious glare.

"Correct," Snape sniffed. "Five points to Slytherin."

"Sir," Hermione said angrily, "he's in all four Houses-"

"Ten points from Ravenclaw for talking back." Snape turned away and flicked his wand. "Today you will be brewing a simple potion for curing boils. I will put you in pairs, and you will not complain about who you are partnered with."

Hunter, to his dismay, was paired with Zacharias, who not only hated him, but was almost as bad at Potions as Neville was. He wished he could tell Zacharias not to cut the horned slugs so thickly and that he needed to stir the potion slower, but the boy had all but taken over their cauldron and hated him, so he kept silent. This was a stupid idea later.

Ten minutes away from the end of class, their cauldron exploded. Hunter had dived for the ground a split second earlier, because Zacharias had forgotten to take the cauldron off the fire before adding the porcupine quills, so the potion missed him.

"It was Potter!" Zacharias said quickly when Snape marched over to them, his cloak billowing and his eyes flashing menacingly. "I didn't do anything!"

"Potter!" Snape snapped. "Ten points from Gryffindor!"

Hunter stared at Snape in shock. The Potions master had walked past their cauldron five times, sneering at it and making mild, snide comments about their progress, and he knew Hunter hadn't done anything with the potions.

For a moment, he was frozen. Then he burst into tears and fled the room.