The Outcasts Of Hogwarts

Chapter 17 Potions

Over the next week, Gryffindor's defeat and Harry's fall were all the school was talking about. One morning, when Malfoy had come over to jeer at Harry, Amaris had the sudden realisation that Harry had been right. Everyone had seemed to have forgotten all about her, unfortunately, the thing they had moved on to was the failure of one of her friends. So it wasn't much to celebrate and Amaris didn't mention it. 

She also hadn't mentioned her two sightings of the mysterious black dog or its possible connection to Sirius Black. This is mostly because she didn't know how to explain any of it and she was afraid that they wouldn't believe her or see it the way she did. Amaris was planning to mention it the next time it was relevant to a conversation but it didn't happen. The others weren't talking about the escaped prisoner. At least, not around her.

As the days passed, the thought slipped from her mind, replaced by dread as her first proper Potions class crept closer. The others had tried to reassure her, with varying success, that it wasn't that bad. Hermione had tried to explain that it was a fascinating subject but had ended up making it sound far more complicated than Amaris had originally thought. And Ron had only highlighted how cruel and unfair Snape could be towards Gryffindors. 

Not that those had been the reasons for Amaris' distress. Yet another thing she didn't feel comfortable discussing with her supposed best friends.

Near the end of the week, she was reluctantly following the others down into the cold damp darkness of the Hogwarts' Dungeons. Amaris shivered and hugged her arms, Pachua licking her ear comfortingly. "Is there a reason why Potions class is taught all the way down here?" She asked in a tight voice as they waited against the stone walls outside the classroom.

Before anyone answered, the door to the room creaked open and the cool voice of Snape drifted into the corridor, "Enter."

As the class began filing in, Amaris began breathing fast and shallow. The mixed smells of dried plants, pickled animal remains and metallic smoke filled her nose. Once she was in the room, the stench intensified, consuming her sense of smell and clogging up her throat. She managed to make it into a spare seat next to Hermione and tried breathing through the fabric of her sleeve. It didn't help much. This was going to be harder than she had thought.

Snape stood up and swept around his desk, spraying the room. "We have a new student here with us today," Snape said, not at all enthusiastic, "who apparently thought that, because her father was an award-winning Potions Master, she didn't need to bother with the first two years of this subject." The teacher strode across the room towards her, predetermined hatred in his black eyes. "Yet another famous Gryffindor who arrogantly thinks themselves above hard work." His gaze shifted to Harry, who glared back with equal despise, then back to Amaris.

But she simply looked up at him blankly, trying her hardest not to cough or breath and not registering much of what the teacher had said. Snape seemed to realise that he wasn't provoking any retaliation as he would from Harry and he turned to walk back to his desk. "Well, let's put that arrogance to the test, shall we. Today I will be demonstrating the brewing of a rather difficult potion and we'll see how much all of you can tell me about it."

Amaris was still struggling to breathe and her head felt like it was filling with swirling mist. Everywhere she looked she saw reminders of her father's lab: cauldron, scales, knives, jars and bowls and bottles filled with ingredients. Every new sent triggered another memory to be shot to the front of her mind. 

Still conscious of everyone else in the room, she sat and faced the front of the classroom. But she went through the lesson in a sort of daze, barely hearing Snape's voice. Then suddenly, yet also after an agonisingly long time, the lesson was over.