What was Snape thinking as he stared into those eyes?
Was he remembering the pure, bright eyes from their first meeting? Or the shocked, pained eyes when he'd lashed out with harsh words? Or perhaps the eyes that would never open again…
No one could know, except Snape himself.
And maybe not even him.
The Potions classroom was silent, save for the occasional chop, grind, or bubbling of cauldrons.
After a long pause, Snape seemed to snap out of a dream. "A mixture of Mutebird droppings and Mandrake root produces Silencing Powder, which renders the consumer speechless for a week," he said.
"Not knowing is honest. Gryffindor, one point."
Then, after a beat, "You answered two questions correctly. Decent. But no need to get cocky."
That last sentence seemed to stick in Snape's throat, as if he wasn't used to saying anything remotely encouraging.
As Snape moved to inspect the other students' work, the nearby young witches and wizards—except Lucien—stared at Harry in utter shock. If they weren't so terrified of Snape, they'd have blurted out:
You can talk to Snape like that?
And get points for it?
Was that… encouragement? From Snape?!
Only Lucien understood. Snape was simply channeling his guilt and love for Lily onto her son, Harry. Especially when he looked into those emerald-green eyes—so much like hers—he probably couldn't even tell who he was seeing.
Maybe, deep down, Snape didn't want to tell the difference.
By helping Harry dodge Snape's venomous tongue, Lucien felt he'd done his part to protect a teenager's mental health. And he'd helped Snape confront those eyes, even if they were set in James Potter's face.
The world's full of good people, isn't it? Lucien thought.
Class was over, and Lucien decided to ask Snape about a bonding agent he'd read about in a Potter family spellbook. It might be useful for his mechanical creature project.
He didn't notice Ron staring at him, jaw practically on the floor. Ron had just realized that Harry's earlier stunt was straight out of Lucien's playbook.
And it actually worked!
That trick really kept Snape's insults at bay!
Lucien's words echoed in Ron's mind: "The eyes are the windows to the soul. You've got to communicate through them, show Snape that even if you're slow to learn, you're determined to try hard!"
---
As expected, Lucien was the first to finish his potion. After a quick inspection, Snape awarded Ravenclaw five points.
Scoring points every class adds up, Lucien thought. Who knows, maybe Ravenclaw's got a shot at the House Cup.
Not that it mattered much. The Cup was mostly a shiny honor, fought over by Gryffindor and Slytherin. Hufflepuffs were too laid-back, and Ravenclaws were more focused on their own pursuits than collective glory.
Lost in thought, Lucien was yanked back to reality by an angry roar:
"Weasley! Why are you staring at me? Got a problem with your professor?"
"Disrespecting a teacher—Gryffindor, minus five points!"
Lucien glanced at Ron, who was trembling like a leaf. He could guess what happened.
That redhead's got some guts.
---
After the bell rang, Snape called out before leaving, "Potter, come to my office."
Harry froze, panic setting in. Why does he want me in his office?
As he spiraled into worry, Lucien packed up and clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Let's go. I've got a question for the professor too."
Harry visibly relaxed. "Thanks for coming with me," he said.
Lucien blinked, confused. What's this kid on about? I'm just going to ask a question. It's not like I'm walking him into a dragon's den.
The two arrived at Snape's office. Harry, visiting for the first time, eyed the shelves of jars and vials with a mix of curiosity and fear. Lucien, meanwhile, spotted some rare treasures: Thunderbird feathers, Runespoor eggs, Kelpie digestive fluid…
No surprise from the youngest Potions Master in history, Lucien thought. The guy's got connections.
"Grafton," Snape said, noticing Lucien with Harry. "Do you have a question?"
Lucien stepped forward, explaining his query about the bonding agent.
Snape considered for a moment before replying, "The potion you're describing is akin to a bonding agent, leaning toward Alchemy."
He glanced at Lucien, curious why he'd ask about such a potion, but continued, "Its main flaw is that the effect doesn't last long. You could try adding Cerberus blood, in a ratio of… But Cerberus blood isn't cheap. Unless it's critical, you might hold off."
Lucien nodded, thanking Snape. The man's sharp, he thought. In just a few moments, Snape had dissected the potion's effects, flaws, and a solution.
Cerberus blood, huh? There was a three-headed dog right upstairs. Why buy what you could get for free?
Satisfied, Lucien said goodbye to Snape. As he passed Harry, he noticed the boy staring at him with a complex expression—a pie chart of shock, reluctance, unease, and a dash of confusion.
Whatever, Lucien thought. I've got too much to do to linger here.
He left Harry with a cool, departing silhouette, facing Snape alone.
After a long silence, Snape spoke. "Your potion work today was… adequate."
Harry nodded dumbly, unsure what Snape was getting at.
"But you've got plenty of room for improvement," Snape continued. "You could learn a thing or two from Grafton."
Snape's probing came from suspicion. That improved Sleeping Draught from last time—only Lucien and Snape, who'd received the modified recipe, should've known how to brew it. Yet Harry had used it to knock out Malfoy.
He was testing Harry, figuring a kid would be easy to crack.
But Harry's response threw him off completely.
"How do you know Lucien's been tutoring me?!"
Snape stared at Harry—those striking green almond-shaped eyes in that infuriating face—spouting such an idiotic question.
Fury surged, black lines practically forming on Snape's forehead.
"Get out! Now!"