Chapter 8

Friday morning I woke up, showered, and dressed as normal, then headed nipped down to the Great Hall for breakfast with just a half an hour to spare till they stopped serving food. The fact that Potions was a late afternoon class that began at three and went until six helped with that. Surprisingly, I wasn't the only one taking advantage of that fact. Over at the Gryffindor Table, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were on their second plates of bacon and eggs. Here, Daphne was leisurely working her way through a bowl of oatmeal while Tracey watched on with a cup of breakfast tea.

"Can I get a Neopolitan Sfogliatella, please?" I tried.

"A what?" Questioned Daphne.

As the shell-shaped pastry filled with sweet cheese, semolina, and candied orange bits appeared in front of me, I grinned as the Hogwarts House Elves were able to provide seemingly even foreign breakfast pastries on-command. I thanked the invisible House Elves before gesturing at the pastry on my plate.

"That, Daphne, is a Sfogliatella. It's a shell-shaped pastry with a sweet filling. There's a bunch of different varieties, I like the Neopolitan variety, but my mother was always partial to the Sfogliatella Santa Rosa. That's got cherries in it, and I'm not a big fan of those." I explained.

"All right, why this then and not something more substantial?" Queried Tracey.

"If I'm going to teach Daphne Italian today, I'm going to start the day off right." I shrugged.

"Point." Acknowledged Daphne.

Mind you, I switched to scrambled eggs and sausage once I finished my pastry, but it was the thought that counted. After all, there was a right way to do things. By the time that breakfast ended, I'd eaten my fill and got up to head back to the Slytherin Common Room. As I did so, Ron Weasley roughly shouldered his way past me with a sour look on his face.

"A moment Weasley, please." I intoned.

"What do you want, Zabini?" Asked Ron.

"I keep wracking my brain to try and figure out what I've done to cause you offense. I'm coming up with nothing, however. So, what exactly is your problem with me?" I demanded.

"You're Slytherin, that's what my problem with you is." Pointed out Ron.

"And?" I pressed.

"All Slytherins are evil, everyone knows that." Scoffed Ron.

"Is that a fact? Would it shock you to learn that the inventor of the Modern Wiggenweld Potion, Sir Thomas de Grenville was a Slytherin? Before he came around in the thirteenth century, Wiggenweld was made using Troll Blood, a hazardous-to-procure Regenarative Ingredient. Before he discovered that Salamander Blood was an acceptable substitute, only the wealthy could afford regular doses of Wiggenweld Potion. Afterward, everyone could now afford it." I pointed out.

"You just made that up!" Accused Ron.

"We're in a school, Weasley. You could easily look it up." I sighed.

"So? Even if that's true, one person doesn't exactly make up for the absolute load of blokes Slytherin produced that went Dark." Grumbled Ron.

"All the houses can produce Dark Wizards, Weasley. Your own house is no exception. Look up the story of Constance Slughorn if you don't believe me. She used her ability to control magical beings to sick a dragon on the people of County Durham in the twelfth century." I insisted.

"Whatever, Zabini! I've got things to do, so shove off!" Shouted Weasley.

He went stomping off, Harry Potter following behind him and giving me an apologetic look. I was beginning to suspect a lot of this interpersonal conflict was cultural rather than anything inherent in the personalities present among the various houses. It's one of the reasons most other Wizarding Schools didn't have houses to begin with. At least Harry wasn't pre-judging me based on my house affiliation. Or not, I could be wrong about all that. Malfoy wasn't exactly doing a whole lot to prove Weasley's assumptions wrong, and he had a lot of folks in the House following him.

Regardless, I made my way down to the Slytherin Common Room, reciting the daily passwords to enter, and making my way over to a table. I'd had to drag a pair of chairs over to it for Daphne and Tracey, but it would do for a study session. Once Daphne arrived after finishing the cup of tea she'd stayed in the Great Hall to finish, we got down to brass tacks for her first session of Italian Lessons. Fortunately, she proved eager to learn. I was worried that I'd have to find some way to get her to focus on the lesson, but that turned out not to be necessary.

We mostly started with the basics. The Alphabet, basic grammar, hello, good bye, thank you, that sort of thing. She was picking it up pretty well. I was willing to bet that she would be perfectly fluent in one-hundred-thirty lessons of this same length. Of course, that largely meant that at the rate we were going, she'd be on the same level of fluency as a native adult speaker in roughly three and a half years of once a week lessons. We might have to step things up a bit if she wanted to be completely fluent in a reasonable length of time.

By the time the lesson broke up, however, Daphne was able to say a few common phrases. How are you, where is the bathroom, that sort of thing. Those were easy, the level she wanted was the part of all this that was going to take time. Unfortunately, that would eat into my own training time. I wondered if being at the level of a native teenaged speaker would be all right for her? I'd have to ask her in the future. As it was, I had wrangled a commensurate French Lesson out of her for tuesday evening.

For now, though, I had to get ready for double potions with Gryffindor. Fortunately, the potions classroom was in the same area of the castle as the Slytherin Dorms, the Dungeons. It was literally a five minute walk away. I gathered my things and headed out. When I arrived, I sat down next to Millie at a Cauldron. She'd wanted my help with Potions and had traded spells that I could learn from her Grandfather's repertoire of dueling spells for it.

Just as she'd said, she produced instructions for a spell that I could learn that was useful in duelling The Jelly Brain Jinx could, apparently, reduce an opponent's mental faculties and render them a drunken fool incapable of coordinating their own limbs. The Wand Motion was a spiral and the incantation was Cerebrum Wibbly. It was, apparently, a more effective sibling of the standard Jelly Legs Jinx that many beginner duelists used. The annotations on the paper stated that a duelist who had his wits about him would be capable of countering a jellified leg, but take those wits away and they would struggle to cast anything at all, much less a counterspell. It was solid advice.

"Thank you." I nodded, tucking the papers into my robes.

"No, thank you. My potions skills are pretty bad. I'll be in your care today." Responded Millie.

Soon enough, however, the last of the class entered the potions classroom and time kept ticking onward. Eventually, the time for class to start came and, like a very punctual yet incredibly dramatic vampire, Professor Snape swept into the classroom, robes billowing from the movement. As he started in on a speech meant to intimidate the class, I wondered idly whether or not he'd had his robes enchanted to do that for dramatic entrances. Judging by his office being so Spartan, he hadn't seemed the type. Professor Snape began to take roll call and soon wound up with Harry Potter in his sights as he had in the books.

"Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Demanded Snape.

I knew the answer to be the Draught of Living Death. It was a potion so difficult that not even my mother had let me try brewing it, since every failure of something that powerful would be catastrophic. Poor, Muggle-Raised, Harry had no clue though.

"I don't know, Sir." Answered Harry.

"Clearly, fame isn't everything. Perhaps you spent too much time being waited upon and not enough time studying. Let’s try again, Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" Questioned Snape.

That was the stomach of a goat. Well, any ruminant animal would do. Ox Bezoars are a staple of Chinese-style Alchemy, and I'd heard that Deer Bezoars are used in some Native American Anti-Poison Potions. Goats are standard in Europe outside of certain parts of the Russian Steppe, though. They use Horse Bezoars there thanks to Mongol Influence. Once again, however, harry didn't know.

"I don't know, Sir." Grunted Harry.

This time I could tell he was angry at Snape's comment. I didn't even need Empathic Powers to see figure that out. I recalled that his aunt and uncle had made Harry do all the housework up to and including cooking for them, all while they doted on his cousin to an outlandish degree. He'd never been waited on a day in his life, he'd always been the one waiting on others.

"Five points from Gryffindor for that tone, Potter. I shall give you one chance to earn them back. What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Queried Snape.

They were the same plant, and it looked like Harry knew that because he got a grin of triumph on his face as he answered the question. It figured given how much gardening his aunt was supposed to have made him do.

"I do know that one, Professor. They're the same plant, also known as Aconite and they're deadly poisonous." Smirked Harry in triumph.

"Indeed. You may have your five points back, however I will be taking ten from you for cheek." Sniffed Snape, turning around and striding up to the board.

"Today you shall be making the Cure for Boils. Perform the steps as I have written them down here. Do not deviate or your Dunderheadedness may very well cost you your fingers." Intoned Snape.

"Oh, that's not good." Frowned Millie as she heard Snape say that.

"Easy, Millie. I'll walk you through the process, all right?" I soothed.

I helped Millie go through the first part of the process, adding snake fangs to the mortar and crushing them to powder with the pestle, putting four measures of the powder into the cauldron, heating for ten seconds, then waving her wand to add the magic. It all took about fifteen minutes and the potion would be left to simmer for forty-five before the next part. As nothing catastrophic happened yet, Millie was slightly more self-assured than she'd previously been.

"Everything all right?" I asked.

"Yeah, it's a lot easier to do this with a partner than on my own." Nodded Millie.

"I told you you could handle it. You just need confidence and maybe someone to help out every now and again." I grinned.

"Yeah, having someone to make sure nothing goes wrong is nice." Admitted Millie.

As she said that, however, a hissing noise came from over by the Gryffindor section of the room. I turned to look and see that Neville Longbottom's Cauldron was hissing and throwing off orange sparks as the bubbling concoction in his cauldron turned a bright yellow. Immediately, Snape rushed over to Neville and banished the Cauldron into a closet just before the whole thing exploded. There was a muffled boom and the whoosh of flame from the shut closet door and when the closet opened again, a thick, viscous, yellow, goop covered the previously clean cauldrons that had been inside the closet. Neville's own cauldron was half melted from the explosion.

Snape had acted swiftly to avoid an issue, but not swiftly enough to stop one of the sparks from catching on Neville's Robe Sleeve and forcing Snape to put out the fire with Aguamenti. The flames and subsequent water had ruined Neville's robe, but his evening was about to get even worse, thanks to drawing Professor Snape's Ire.

"Longbottom! What part of follow the instructions without deviation did you not understand? Your dunderheadedness almost caused an explosion in the midst of class!" Snapped Professor Snape.

"I-I'm s-sorry Professor!" Stuttered Neville, clearly shaken.

"Sorry is not going to replace lost potion ingredients or half-melted cauldrons! Fifteen points from Gryffindor for this debacle and you will be seeing me on Saturday for detention to scrub out the Cauldrons that your Dunderheadedness made collateral damage!" Scowled Snape.

Through it all, Millie watched on with wide-eyes. I don't think she realized how catastrophic bad potions failures could be before now. Likely her initial failures at potions back at home had been non-catastrophic and her grandad had then forbid her from trying any more times to not push their luck. To take her mind off of what had almost just happened I had her begin stewing the quartet of horned slugs the potion called for.

Thirty minutes later, the slugs were ready, and five minutes after that, we added a glug of the stewed horned slugs to the brewing potion. We took the potion off the heat before crushing a pair of porcupine quills with mortar and pestle, then adding the crushed quills. I stirred the potion five times clockwise and had Millie finish it off by waving her wand over it to add the last touch of magic necessary to finish off the potion. The potion turned blue in color and emitted a puff of pink smoke, signifying a successful completion.

In the thirty minutes that we were doing that, Malfoy had Goyle sneak up and add the porcupine quills to Seamus Finnegan's Cauldron on the sly while Seamus still had his cauldron on the heat. Goyle scampered away as Seamus' potion turned pink, melted his cauldron, and emitted a foul-smelling plume of toxic smoke. Seamus managed to avoid getting hit with the smoke, but his partner, Dean Thomas wasn't so lucky. He got a faceful of it and the right side of his face where the smoke touched him suddenly broke out in boils.

"Gah!" Shouted Dean.

Dean cringed away from the Cauldron as the smoke erupted forth onto his face. Snape arrived within moments to vanish the smoking cauldron entirely, but the damage was already done. The right side of Dean Thomas' face was covered in a series of painful-looking boils.

"Another fifteen points from Gryffindor for such incompetence! Potter! Come take your housemate to the Hospital Wing!" Snapped Professor Snape.

"Professor! Seamus and Dean were sabotaged! I saw Goyle put the quills in their cauldron while it was still on the heat!" Protested Harry.

"Making excuses for incompetence are we? Another five points from Gryffindor for that, specifically! Be thankful I don't start assigning you detention for that! Now go!" Spat Snape.

"Yes, Professor. Of Course, Professor." Ground out Harry as he helped Dean back up and took him to the Hospital Wing.

Oh yeah, if Harry Potter wasn't mad before now, he sure as hell was now. I had no clue why Snape had seemed to single Harry out like that, but honestly, the only reason I even cared was because of Snape's bullying of children that was threatening to undo all that progress I'd tried to make in the last week. I was trying to show the other houses that Slytherin wasn't this house full of dark lords in training that so many other people seemed to think it was. It was a bit difficult to do that when our head of house went around doing stuff like this.

By the time we had to bottle samples of our potion to turn them in, I knew that any good will I might have gained in Gryffindor by helping out Neville had well and truly been buggered. Ron Weasley looked like he was two seconds away from dragging random Slytherins across a table and into a fistfight. With a sigh, I turned in the potion to Snape, which in this case meant putting our vial on Snape's Desk as he watched.

"Hmph. This is a half-decent potion, but then we already knew you could brew this one. If you're expecting points for that, look elsewhere." Huffed Snape.

I turned and headed back to the common room. Clearly seeing Harry had put some sort of damper on Snape's mood, even if the man was the aggressor in most of those scenarios. For my part, I just headed to the great hall for dinner. At dinner, a number of Gryffindors sent glares over at our table, confirming my suspicions about my progress having been wiped out by Act of Snape. I couldn't really think about that, right now though. Instead, I finished my turkey and jacket potatoes and headed back to the dorm to practice my Occlumency, Remote Viewing, Leglimency, and the Jelly Brain Jinx. I went to bed around one in the morning after a long, five-hour, training session. Tomorrow, I would have my first meeting of the Potions Club, along with my duel with Draco in the House Dueling Pit.

I was determined to make the most out of the former and win the latter. . .

XXXX

AN: So yeah, Snape turns out to be a shit teacher and a horrific bully. We already knew that was going to be the case. However, the bullying managing to wipe out whatever progress that Blaise had made in showing the rest of the school that Slytherins aren't all like Draco isn't something that Blaise was prepared for.

Remember, he only has knowledge of the books up to the end of Goblet of Fire. Order of the Pheonix had only just come out when his memories cut off and he hadn't gotten a copy since he was busy reading other stuff in the six-ish months between its release and when his memories cut off. That means he has no clue about Snape's whole tragic backstory that Rowling gave him. To Blaise, Snape just enjoys bullying kids for some reason.

At any rate, the next chapter will be Saturday, including the duel with Draco.

Stay tuned. . .