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Was that it? Harry thought as Dumbledore kept speaking. Did the Headmaster simply considered him to be unable to compete because of his experience -or supposed lack thereof- or was this some sort of a test? It didn't matter, Harry thought. Was his first assumption correct, Dumbledore wouldn't be the one to judge his eligibility. And if it was all a part of some complicated test, well, he wasn't going to back down either way.
Through the rest of Dumbledore's speech -the Headmaster informed them that the delegations of the two other magical schools contesting would arrive on the thirtieth of next month- people complained right and left -the Weasley twins making the most racket since they were turning seventeen come April. And they kept talking amongst them and complaining all the way to their dormitories, or at least the Gryffindors did. Harry and Neville were some of the few exceptions; the two teens had waved goodbye to Severus from across the room and had headed off to bed, lost in their conversation of the Tournament once more. Neville seemed to get a kick that Harry was able to compete and had simply asked him not to dare place his name in the Cup if he wasn't present. Harry himself was wondering how the Cup looked as he had only read a few sketchy descriptions in the books back at Silbreith.
The next day was just as rainy as the one before but nobody complained; as if the distraction of the Triwizard Tournament wasn't enough, the first day of classes had signalled the first potions' lessons with Severus acting like himself in front of his students. It was the third year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws that had double potions first and Harry had listened to the rumours that potions were rapidly becoming one of the favourite classes in school. His year had a lesson with Severus the next day, but that didn't stop him from passing by his father's office during the break before he was to sit for his Arithmology exam. Severus had been exhilarated, the joy of doing his job as he had so fervently wished during his tenure at Hogwarts showing on every inch of his body.
So, it was a very happy Harry Potter that climbed the stairs to his Arithmancy class; professor Vector had been waiting for him with a test in hand and the green eyed wizard was more than pleased to say he had done more than well at it. More than well if the professor's satisfied smile as she skimmed over the parchment was anything to go by.
During dinner, Harry realized, the new and improved potions' classes had a dire impact on the sixth year Gryffindors too that had had potions that afternoon. Alicia Spinnet had apparently been awarded five points and a smile for a potion well brewed and was now staring at Severus from afar, a dreamy look in her eyes. A certain Weasley twin was not amused.
Harry's turn for potions class came next morning. He and Neville had rushed to the dungeons, wolfing down their breakfasts to get a good seat and greet Severus before the rest of the class arrived.
"Hey, Sev!" Harry called walking in the classroom with a smile on his face; the potions lab now resembled the one back at Silbreith. It seemed as if the shadows had been chased away from the corners, the black furniture had been exchanged for the sake of chestnut coloured bookcases, cupboards and selves filled with books and vials, while light was pouring through the iron bars of the skylights.
"Good morning, Harry!" Severus called, walking towards his son to give him a hug. "Good morning, Neville." Neville greeted him back while the potions master looked back at Harry, beaming with pride.
"What?" Harry asked in amusement.
"I ran into professor Vector this morning; a certain fourth year Gryffindor will be taking his OWLs on Arithmancy a year early, or so she said." The smile on his face was wide as Harry whooped in glee.
"She hasn't told me yet!" The teen explained as his brother and father congratulated him.
"She will come lunch. Congratulations, son." He whispered the last sentence and smiled, hugging his son once more. They had to part soon as the sound of footsteps echoed in the corridor. Harry and Neville went to sit at the table closest to Severus at the front row while the potions master sat at the corner of his desk, smile still in place as he welcomed every student that entered his class. The silence was complete as the last student entered and the door closed.
"Good morning, class!" Severus exclaimed, a grin firmly etched on his lips. "Welcome to your forth year of potions. Before we start with the first potion for the year, allow me to caution you that as your potions get more advanced, they also get more volatile. You must be more careful this year than you were the last in order to prevent accidents from happening." He looked around the class and smiled, almost apologetically, shrugging softly as he added; "And by accidents I actually mean please -please- don't make it so I'll have to scrub another cauldron from the ceiling. It's really not half as fun as it looks like to the observer, let me tell you." Harry -who knew first hand the incident Severus was referring to- laughed out loud and most girls giggled -Lavender blushing at the same time- while the rest of the students had a confused smile slowly shaping on their lips. "Now," Severus continued, clapping his hands once and pointing at the instructions on the board "let's talk about the ingredients you'll be using today and how to avoid them from blowing up in your face…"
HI GUYS IF YOU WANT READ 300 + CHAPTERS THEN VISIT
patreon.com/Benzoid