"How did you manage that, Potter?
"What exactly, Draco?
"How did you manage to get into a fight with McGonagall on your first day?
"It's not my fault she's a flea-ridden cat who belongs in a kennel, not behind a desk," Harry shrugged. "In the end, I just yawned — what's the big deal? It's not like no one else yawns in the first class... And her theory is complete nonsense. No, did you hear that? 'Discard all distractions, concentrate intently and follow the gesture'... Flea-ridden creep. I'd feed her to Fluffy, but my mentor won't let me," Harry didn't bother to explain that his pet with the modest name "Fluffy" was a lively reed cat. "What nonsense! What kind of transfiguration is that without improvisation and imagination?"
"You're just jealous that Granger got points for disappearing and you didn't.
" Points my ass! The fact that even a monkey can be taught to wave a wand and speak broken Latin. And if you hang an amulet around its neck and dress it up a little, you'll have a decent copy of an average Gryffindor...
"Don't worry, Snape will get his revenge," winked Draco, amused by the analogy. "And you're not entirely right. A monkey would be worthy of the title of Gryffindor prefect. At least it would do better than Weasley.
"What did you say?
"Ron, don't! Don't get involved!
"Oh, here comes the game," Harry commented, then turned to the Gryffindors. "And for the deaf, Mr. Weasley, Draco said that a monkey would do your job better. I dare say he was referring to your level of competence as prefect.
"Don't you dare insult Ron, Potter!
"I'm not insulting him, I'm repeating what he said. Well, you never know... Maybe he really didn't hear me?
The Slytherins began to giggle quietly. Truly, the newcomer's talent for getting people riled up was unmatched.
"Besides, I don't think we've been introduced, have we?" Harry smiled slightly. "At least you remembered my surname yesterday, but I must admit I didn't catch yours, Miss..."
"Granger! And just so you know, Potter, I'm the prefect! I can assign punishments for insults.
"Try it, Miss Granger," Harry shrugged. "The first time I get in trouble with the Dean's Committee or the Board of Governors, it'll be over for you. If it ever comes to that, because I don't give a damn about points and detentions.
"You... You...
"I-I... That's fantastic..."
Granger blushed, turned away, and generally pretended she wasn't there. Ron Weasley, of course, couldn't understand the subtle dig and lewd tone in Potter's last sentence. And, of course, he couldn't stand such an attitude towards his inexhaustible source of homework, whom he pretended to call his friend. And with all this, he made it clear that Granger was his girlfriend, which, of course, was not true.
"Hey, you...
" You.
"Listen, you! Apologise!
" The truth doesn't hurt, it's taken into account. Especially since I didn't say anything offensive. A little vulgar, maybe. But not offensive.
"Did you just tell me to fuck off?!" Weasley instantly got angry. "How can you even do that?!"
"With words," Harry replied calmly. "What exactly can I do?
"How can you be with them?" Ron nodded towards the Slytherins. "They're dark... They were on the side of You-Know-Who!"
"Don't-Understand-Who," Harry smiled slightly. "However, if you mean Voldemort, then during his reign, some people, like this choke-er...
"I'm not a chokey!" Draco protested.
"Well, some, like this non-chokey one, weren't even born yet. And the rest were only good at calling their mums and cooing in their cradles. I doubt that Voldemort..." Harry watched with pleasure as the redhead shuddered at the name, and couldn't help feeling a little respect for Tom Riddle: to make your name feared even after your death was worth a lot. "Anyway, I don't think he recruited babies. Necromancers aren't exactly squeamish, but even that's too much for most of them.
"Your parents fought against their fathers.
"And now they're in their graves. Not that I knew them, so I don't mourn them too much. They died because of their own stupidity, unfinished victims of war...
"What, do you think that just because you're a snake, you can do whatever you want?
"I think I can do anything that isn't forbidden.
"I'll get you...
"What?" Harry asked with interest. "Are you challenging me to a duel? Go on, challenge me. If anything's left, I'll bury it in the greenhouses at my own expense.
"Expelliarmus!
"Anima Tormentum," Harry didn't even bother to take out his wand. These spells required contact with the target and were part of the so-called "gentleman's set" of self-defence spells that Harry had learned under the guidance of his master. All these stunning and disarming spells were half measures. After them, the enemy could still surprise you, but not after something like this.
Weasley collapsed to the floor, howling in pain. He dropped his wand, which rolled across the floor with a clatter, and all the Slytherins and a small number of Gryffindors who knew the meaning of Potter's words scattered away from him. The darkest of curses, which could only be removed by the wizard who had cast it. The agony was comparable to that of Cruciatus. Literally hellish. These spells were originally developed by renegade wizards in the Middle Ages for the needs of the church. With the help of this spell, the Inquisitors identified "sinners" and "blasphemers," that is, people with sin on their souls. The more sinful a person is, the stronger the spell works on them. And since the spell was developed according to the criteria of the Catholic Church, the sins were accordingly: pride, greed, envy, anger, lust, gluttony, and sloth. You could say Weasley got bingo. Seven out of seven.
Harry bent over Weasley, who was howling and rolling on the ground, sighed, removed the spell with a second touch, and looked the redhead in the eyes.
"Is that clear? Or do I need to repeat the procedure?
"…What…
"Say that again, I didn't hear you," Harry continued to stare at Weasley. "Was it just me, or did you just apologise, swear not to bother me anymore, and promise not to tell anyone about this incident?
"You're finished, Potter!
"I see, so no... Well, it's your choice. It's your loss...
"What are you doing to him...
"What's going on?!
Harry exhaled. That was it, Snape had arrived. He might have a personal grudge against Harry, but the dean would never go against his own faculty. So it was time to strike while the iron was hot.
"Weasley is coming, sir. The Gryffindor prefect has behaved in a manner unbecoming of a wizard. I had to remind him that man is not only mortal, but also suddenly mortal. Nothing serious.
"But you just tortured him!
"Miss Granger, I don't believe I asked you a question!" Snape looked around. "I see Mr. Weasley's wand on the floor, and I see nearly half a dozen Gryffindors holding wands aimed at my students. Furthermore, I see no signs of torture on Mr. Weasley's body. However, since you insist that my student has tortured someone... Potter! Your wand! Now!
"Here, sir," Harry took his official wand out of its holster. "Priori Incantatem!"
Several images of everyday spells flew from the wands — luring charms, levitation, minor healing spells, a warming spell... Nothing unusual.
"Well... I see. Stand up, Weasley. And stop this charade! Twenty points from Gryffindor for a very poor attempt to disrupt the lesson, and you, Weasley, will spend a week doing extra lessons in my class after school. Now, everyone back to class.
Harry smiled contentedly. There is a balance of good and evil in the universe after all... There is. Satisfied with this fact, the young necromancer hurried to his potions class.
However, his joy was short-lived.
"Mr Potter... Our prodigal lost celebrity...
"I'll take him.
"As far as I know, you were previously home-schooled.
"No, sir. I was trained by the Master.
"And in what field? — Snape flashed a glance.
"I cannot say. Not 'I won't', but 'I can't', Professor.
"Well then..." Snape frowned. "Let us hope that your mysterious mentor gave you at least a basic understanding of potions and alchemy. I've seen your exam results... Remember, Potter, 'excellent' to me means just barely ABOVE the grey mass of mediocrity who can't tell a blueberry from a wolfberry.
"You can arrange for me to take additional tests if you wish, sir. As a master of potions, you are well within your rights to do so.
"Really? — Snape smiled crookedly." — Well, Potter, I didn't pull your tongue...
He had to pause for a moment: there was a persistent knock at the classroom door. Snape gestured to open the door, and Madam Umbridge herself appeared in the doorway.
"Good afternoon, Master Snape.
"Madam Inspector," the potions master nodded politely.
"Did you receive my message that I would be inspecting your lesson today?
"Yes, I did, Madam," Snape replied politely, gesturing towards the empty desk in the back row. "You may take the vacant seat. I think you will be comfortable there.
"Yes, of course, master... Please, don't mind me, continue with the lesson as usual.
"Very well," Snape turned back to Harry. "Now, Potter, you are to undergo an assessment with me. It is similar to the OWL exam — a short oral theory test, several alchemical equations to solve in writing, and a practical demonstration of how to prepare a random potion. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir.
"In that case, you have ten minutes to remember everything you know and can do.
"Yes, sir.
Snape nodded and turned away from Potter.
"The rest of you, welcome back to Hogwarts. Before we begin today's lesson, I would like to remind you that in June you will be taking an exam to test how well you have learned the basics of potion-making. And while most of you here do not possess any obvious talent, I still hope that you will all pass. Otherwise, you will have to face my... displeasure. However, only those who receive a grade of "excellent" or higher will be allowed to continue studying in my class in the sixth year. The rest of you will have to say goodbye to me.
Some Gryffindors exchanged glances. Apparently, such a promise sounded like an attractive offer to them. Snape restored silence in the classroom with a gesture.
"However, there is still a whole school year left before we part ways. Therefore, I recommend that you gather your strength and patience in order to earn the grades I expect to see from you.
The sound of a cricket seemed to fill the classroom. The silence was broken only by the scratching of Umbridge's pen, who was trying her best to be as quiet as a mouse. Snape continued:
"The topic of today's lesson is soothing balm. It is one of the simplest calming potions, which helps to combat anxiety and relieve restlessness. However, if overdosed or prepared incorrectly, it can plunge your patient into a comatose state or lethargic sleep. The list of ingredients and the recipe are on the board," Snape waved his wand in the air, and the recipe appeared on the board. "You have an hour and a half, which is enough for two attempts. Get started," the potions master turned back to Harry. "And you, Mr. Potter, come here.
Harry nodded and approached the professor. It seemed that the exam with the strictest (according to rumours) professor at Hogwarts had begun.
"Let's start with theory, Potter... What will I get if I mix valerian root tincture with motherwort decoction?
"The ingredients for an elixir of even heart. If you add a little hawthorn and alchemical paste based on thyme, you will have the elixir itself, known to Muggles as a drug called 'tricardin'.
"What should not be added to a boil remedy while it is boiling?
"Nothing — it will explode. Let it cool, then add porcupine needles.
"Where is bumblebee skin used?
" Fresh — in Polyjuice potion, dried — in clear-eye potion.
"Where does bloodroot grow?
" On battlefields, but generally on any soil that has been sufficiently watered with animal or human blood.
"What is drowned man extract made from?
"From brains ground into a paste after the onset of decomposition," — at this point, someone in the class almost threw up, judging by the sounds. "Dissolve it in royal vodka."
"What is tsar's vodka?
"A mixture of nitric and hydrochloric acids.
"What antidote is used to treat the bite of a pit viper?
"An infusion of rattlesnake venom.
"What is the difference between a sunflower and a flaming inflorescence?
Harry thought for a couple of seconds, mentally noting that he needed to brush up on his botany of wild plants.
"I don't know, sir.
" Situation: you're on a hike, sitting by a campfire and have prepared a restorative infusion. If you don't have any filters, how would you purify the solution?
"I would make a filter out of my own T-shirt and charcoal from the fire. In addition, this infusion can be heated, but not brought to a boil.
"What is Scandinavian tea made from?
" Snowdrops, linden and hops.
Snape continued to bombard him with questions on a wide variety of topics. Harry didn't know some of the answers — the necromancer simply couldn't understand light plants. Some he guessed based on his basic knowledge or alternative methods. Snape nodded, scratched his chin, asked a couple of clarifying questions... Finally, after a quarter of an hour of continuous verbal duelling, the professor ended the conversation and nodded in agreement with his own reasoning.
"All right, Potter. You need to brush up on your botany a little, but I'm sure Madam Sprout will help you catch up on some areas. Are you familiar with Muggle chemistry?"
"A little, sir. Standard course for medical school.
"Really? — Snape was surprised. — Well... Let's see," he pulled a sheet of parchment towards him and scribbled down the assignment. "Calculate the ionic strength of the solution. With a verbal explanation.
"All right, sir," Harry closed his eyes, recalling the properties of electrolytes. "So... The ionic strength of a solution is the sum of the products of the concentrations of each ion and the square of their electron charge.
Harry quickly began scribbling with his pen on the parchment, although he would have preferred a quill pen.
"All the ions you have listed are single-charged, so their molar concentration is equal to the molar concentration of the substance they are part of..." Harry quickly began to calculate the concentrations. He rounded off roughly, of course, but there was no time to calculate to the nearest ten thousandths. "Here you are, sir. One hundred and forty thousandths of a mole per litre. I am inclined to think that the condition implied a blood plasma substitute, which has an ionic strength of fifteen hundredths of a mole per litre in the reference case."Snape looked at the solution with interest, glanced at Potter, and looked back at the piece of paper.
"You said you chose medicine as one of your minor subjects, didn't you?
"Yes, sir," Harry nodded. "I enjoy working with patients. I even took a course in Muggle first aid.
Harry didn't mention that most of his patients were dead. However, Snape didn't seem to be asking about that. Instead, he nodded, put the parchment with the solution in his notebook.
"I'll let Madam Pomfrey know that you don't need to study general chemistry.
"Thank you, sir," Harry nodded.
"Right... You have just under an hour left before the end of class... Will you have time to make any Class C potions? Keep in mind, you only have one attempt.
"If it's not some kind of life-giving extract, I'll manage.
"Well," Snape pondered. "Can you handle Amortentia?"
"Not sure," Harry admitted honestly. "Love potions aren't my strong suit."
"Then... Then... Then..." Snape closed his eyes. "Wolfsbane potion."
"As you say, sir. Do you have a silver cauldron? I'm afraid the tin one will melt.
"In the storeroom," the professor said, pointing to one of the doors. "And... Weasley! You can pour out that slop! If that's a calming draught, then I'm the son of the Pope!
***
"Not a bad lesson," Harry said as they left the office. "Although, of course, what they say about the dean is true — he's strict... But fair.
"Actually, you're the only one besides Malfoy and Zabini who deserves, if not approval, then at least the absence of snide comments," Nott pointed out, who, incidentally, had no talent for potions. "Be proud."
"Snobbery is a sin," Harry grinned. "What's next on the schedule?
"Lunch," said Draco. "Let's go, it's Monday. Usually on this day we have something like onion soup for lunch. At least it's not cheese soup.
Several Gryffindors rushed past like a herd of hippos. Weasley, as if by accident, gave Harry a hard shove on the shoulder. The Slytherins who had gathered around were already preparing to give the red-haired brat a good beating — after all, over the past two days {?}[1 September 1995 — Friday, so they started school on Monday the 4th] Potter had become a faculty favourite. Well, as much as was possible, considering the necromancer's extremely secretive nature and the fact that he had only left his room in the evening over the weekend (what can you do, a protective circle requires a lot of energy, and after each new layer of protection, Harry almost fainted). However, Harry did not let a new scandal break out.
"Let him go," he said in an icy tone.
"Potter! Are you just going to let that red-haired idiot get away with what he...
"Draco, take it easy, and people will warm up to you. Eventually," the necromancer smiled slightly, twirling a wand that had somehow ended up in his fingers. "If he needs it, he'll come apologise himself later."
"You stole his wand?!" Draco gasped.
"Yeah.
"What are you going to do with it?" Malfoy didn't even bother to ask where Potter had learned to pick pockets.
"I don't know," Harry admitted honestly. "Maybe I'll just break it. Maybe I'll give it to the dean. Or I'll put a reverse spell on it... I don't know. But I'll think of something and...
" HELP!
Harry instantly broke off the conversation and looked up. At the entrance to the Great Hall lay a girl in a Slytherin robe, over whom another girl, apparently her older sister, was leaning. While the others stared at the victim in shock, Harry ran up to the body. A hastily cast spell elicited a response that made Potter's long mane of hair stand on end.
"Gringotts, get out of the way!" he shouted at the shocked Slytherin. "Madam Pomfrey and Snape, get here! Quickly!"
"Potter, what are you...
"She's in anaphylactic shock. If she doesn't get help, she'll die," Harry said, snatching his bag from his shoulder. "Accio paramedic kit. Crabbe, Goyle, tilt her head back and lift her chin.
The strong boys immediately obeyed, holding the patient firmly in place. By that time, Harry had already opened the case and taken out a pair of scissors, which he used to instantly cut open the sleeves of the younger Green Grass's robe and blouse. Someone in the background shouted something about shamelessness, but Harry didn't listen. His hands moved automatically, performing the routine he had learned in paramedic school. Syringes from the emergency kit. Epinephrine, prednisolone, and a horse dose of antihistamine. Two intravenous injections, one with prednisolone intramuscularly, check her breathing. It's difficult, the girl is almost blue. The spells are responding to the problems in her larynx. Scalpel in hand.
"Potter! What are you doing here...
"Madam Pomfrey, there's no time," Harry waved her away. "She's in anaphylactic shock, her larynx is swollen, she needs a tracheostomy. Anaesthetic. On my command, give me the tube from the kit.
"Got it!" the healer sprang into action. "What did you inject her with?"
"Adrenaline, anti-inflammatories and anti-allergens.Waiting a couple of seconds for the painkillers to take effect, Harry leaned over Astoria Granger's body, made a vertical incision below the thyroid gland and the cricoid membrane. The blade, sharp as a razor, opened the trachea, and Harry widened the incision with a spell. The scalpel flew to the floor.
"Come on!
Pomfrey deftly handed a disinfected tube to the new student. He inserted the tube into the incision, wiped the sweat from his forehead, performed the diagnostic spell again, listened to the pulse and the hoarse breathing caused by the incision in the larynx.
"Phew... We made it," Harry turned to the pale Daphne, the older sister of the girl who had nearly died. "Don't be afraid, Green Grass. She'll live. I guarantee it."
He didn't have time to say anything else, though — Daphne, scared out of her wits, almost suffocated him in her embrace. Harry didn't hear Snape appear, or his conversation with Madam Pomfrey, or the allergen test, which turned out to be an unknown potion contained in a piece of candy, many of which were found on the Slytherin table. All this time, he was calming the victim's distraught relative. He only came to when Madam Pomfrey called him for the third or fourth time. Astoria had already been sent to Mungo's with the help of the healer's personal elf.
"Huh? What?
"Potter," the healer sat down next to him on the stairs. "You seemed to want to study medicine?"
"Yes, ma'am... I have some experience, but there's always room for improvement.
"You know, Potter... You saved her life. A few more minutes and she would have been gone...
"I know, but I don't care. I saved her simply because I could.
"Actually, that's what we're going to talk about.
"I don't understand," Harry said, surprised.
"Mr Potter, what would you say if I asked you to attend my medical classes not as a student, but as my personal assistant? And, of course, my assistant in some emergency situations.
Harry nodded, unable to speak. The adrenaline in his blood had subsided, and now he was slightly shaken by the realisation of how close Eternal had been to this girl. After a full minute, he finally managed to squeeze out:
"I agree, but on two conditions.
"What are they?
"I need permission to practise independently. This includes experimental methods that are forbidden and unconventional for magicians.
"All right, what else?"
"And I need a guarantee that when those wretches who left the sweets on the Slytherin table are found, I will be the first to know and I will decide their punishment myself.
***
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