Chapter 3: Potions

I don't own Hellsing or Harry Potter, and I'm not making any money from this.

Getting around Hogwarts wasn't the easiest thing to do. Even if you knew exactly where you were going, the staircases would move around, sending you off in a direction you hadn't intended on going. Sometimes doors would shut and lock themselves, only opening again at a polite request said in just the right manner. Constance found herself wondering if the castle itself was actually alive and putting them through some sort of hazing ritual. The older students didn't have nearly as much trouble as the first years did.

In all the confusion of trying to find classes in the midst of all these obstacles, it was almost impossible not to be late. It wasn't a matter of 'if' but 'when'. If Peeves caught someone in the halls running behind schedule, he would drop a garbage bin on their head and cackle in delight at their misfortune. Then, when you finally found the room your class was held in, you'd get in trouble for not being on time. All the excuses in the world didn't matter. If you were late to class, you got a lecture – end of story. Since all the Gryffindors took their classes together, the whole thing was made simpler. If they traveled in a group, then they all arrived at the same place at the same time. Only those that slept in or went off to do something between classes got left behind.

Most of the classes, once they located them, were quite enjoyable. At least, Connie thought so. Her first classes of the day were Transfiguration and Charms. The class taught by Professor McGonagall seemed to strictly deal with spells that changed changed the properties of something. Charms was focused on... well... everything else, she supposed. The first lesson they got in both of those classes was the importance of correct pronunciation. Most spells taught at Hogwarts had a Latin or Greek root, while others were bastardized versions of the languages. Rather than being actual words or phrases, they just followed the same spelling and grammatical rules. But pronunciation was vitally important, they were told. To say a spell wrong would cause it to either not work at all, or make the magic backfire and do something awful to you. Constance made a mental note to practice all the spells she learned extensively before ever touching her wand. The last thing she wanted to do was go home at Christmas with horns growing out of her head or something.

Her two least favorite classes so far were Defense Against the Dark Arts and History of Magic. Magical History was taught by a ghost who drawled on and on in a monotone voice. It was hard to listen to him for long periods of time without falling asleep. Most of the class was unconscious and drooling all over their desks by the time his first lecture was over. Defense Against the Dark Arts actually covered a lot of material that could be useful, but the teacher drove Constance absolutely batty. Professor Quirrel had a heavy stutter that made it difficult to discern what he was saying. He wore a tightly wrapped turban around his head, and a god-awful smell wafted out from it, making her want to gag when she got too close. She overheard one of the first year Hufflepuffs say that he took to stuffing garlic in there after fighting off a vampire during one of his travels. The girl found the idea of that preposterous. If that man had ever encountered a vampire, he'd be dead, not walking around with kitchen spices packed into his hat. Even though the notion of thinking that garlic would protect against anything other than low level vampires was ridiculous, surely he would have enough sense to change out the cloves once they started going bad. His turban gave off a rotten smell, like something had crawled up inside it and died. Maybe that was what gave him such a creepy vibe. Most of the other students seemed to think he was alright aside from being a little strange, but he rubbed Connie the wrong way. She made sure to sit as close to the back of the room as she could possibly get.

Then came Potions, and she came alive.

The Potions Master, Professor Snape, was the head of Slytherin house. He was an intimidating looking man, dressed out in full black. His shoulder length black hair appeared to have a slightly greasy sheen to it – probably from leaning over the heat of a cauldron for long periods of time, she thought. He seemed to have a talent for controlling his students with very little effort. When he opened his mouth, everyone stopped talking and paid attention to him. It immediately became apparent that he favored his own students and didn't like the Gryffindors at all. He pointedly ignored Hermione every time she raised her hand to answer a question, and it seemed that he enjoyed asking Harry a whole host of things he knew the boy couldn't answer. Of course, Potter should have read his textbook over the summer, but most students didn't look at them until classes started. Young Constance pegged Severus Snape as the sort of person who didn't make things easy. If you wanted the grade and his respect, you had to earn it by jumping into the fire and dealing with whatever he threw at you. Life and lessons at Hellsing were like that. Once they got the basics down, she and her cousin were given problems and expected to figure them out on their own – coming up with creative solutions based on the things they knew.

The other thing about Potions that made it different from every other class at Hogwarts was that it was very similar to some of the sorcery lessons she had gotten at home. There were no wands and no spells. Just mixing various materials together to achieve the desired effect. When the Professor gave his opening speech, Connie thought it could have been her dad or aunt Syn up there talking. They used phrases like 'subtle science and exact art' about sorcery as well. This. This was something she could do, and do well.

Professor Snape immediately set them to work on their first assignment. They had to work individually to brew a simple sleeping drought. The instructions for it were in their textbooks, and he provided all the needed materials. However, as Constance was looking through all of them to double check that everything was right, she noticed something. The mugwort Snape gave them was bad. It wasn't something that would be recognized if you didn't know what to look for. It was an extremely subtle smell – the odor of mold beginning to set in. She had the distinct impression that this was deliberate. The professor had already shown he liked to torture students, so it was likely he gave them bad ingredients just to see if they would catch it. If it was a test to see how many of them were paying attention, then she couldn't really point it out to the entire class. This was an individual assignment after all. But if she brewed a potion that wasn't viable, or didn't brew a potion at all, she would probably get a failing grade. That was unacceptable. However, one of the many lessons she got at home was how certain ingredients could be substituted if others weren't available. Connie had brought all those notes with her to school just in case they might be useful. So she reached into her bag to retrieve her notebook of correspondences and went to work.

When all their classes were over for the day, the Gryffindors went down to the Great Hall for supper. Most of the conversations going around were about the events of the day. Harry had gotten into a fight with a Slytherin boy named Draco Malfoy during their flying lesson, and was now suddenly the Seeker for the Gryffindor Quiddich team. Connie was listening to some of the older students explaining the rules of the sport. It was the strangest game she'd ever heard of. How on earth was one supposed to keep things straight with four balls flying around?

"Bloody hell, Snape's coming over here!" Ron exclaimed, looking nervous. "What does he want?"

Sure enough, Professor Snape was striding toward the Gryffindor table, his black robes billowing behind him. All the students went still, wondering who amongst them had done something to get in trouble.

He came to a halt right behind Constance.

"I want you in my office, Miss Stryker." he said in his deep, intimidating voice. "Now."

Every eye at the table shot to her. She looked up at the Potions Master and swallowed.

"Sir?"

"I don't believe I stuttered. Get up and come to my office."

Constance obediently got up and moved to follow him out of the hall. When she glanced back, the other members of her house looked horrified. Several were mouthing 'what did you do?' She shook her head to indicate she didn't know, then turned back around.

Snape's office wasn't far from his classroom down in the dungeons. The walls of the room were lined with shelves filled with books and potion ingredients. He pointed to a large chair across from a mahogany desk.

"Sit down."

Connie sat and remained perfectly still as he stepped behind the desk to take his own seat. He opened a drawer and brought out a glass container filled with blue fluid. He set it down in front of her.

"Miss Stryker, would you care to explain what that is?" he asked, pointing at it.

Oh crap. She drew in a deep breath. "I believe that's the potion I brewed in class today, sir."

His dark eyes narrowed. "That is not the potion I assigned." he said. "Why didn't you follow the instructions for your assignment?"

"The mugwort you gave us was stale, sir." she said carefully. "The potion wouldn't have worked if I used it."

Snape's voice became low and almost threatening. "Are you suggesting that I mistakenly laid out inadequate materials, Miss Stryker?"

Constance had to be careful how she responded or she would get herself in trouble. She cleared her throat.

"Actually, sir, I thought it may have been deliberate to see how many of us were paying attention." she told him honestly.

The man made no reaction to show whether that had been the case or not. "If you recognized one of the ingredients was wrong, why didn't you share the information with your classmates?"

"Because it was an individual assignment." she replied. "Anyone who read the textbook should have been able to figure out the mugwort was bad, and double checking materials before using them is just common sense. Since all of us were supposed to work on our own, I didn't feel it was my place to correct everyone else's mistake."

Professor Snape slowly arched a brow at her statement. "That doesn't explain why you took it upon yourself to change the recipe. Potion making is an exact science, Miss Stryker. I hope you're aware that the smallest change could produce unexpected and potentially dangerous results."

"Yes, sir." she replied with a nod. "But a low level sleeping drought is simple enough to allow for some deviation without becoming dangerous, and I checked for counter-indications with the other ingredients before replacing the mugwort with tansy..."

"How?" he asked, looking at her intently. "There aren't any substitution tables in the first year textbooks."

"I have a notebook I used during my lessons at home, sir."

Snape paused, looking slightly taken aback. "Do you have this notebook with you?"

Constance suddenly had the thought that she probably shouldn't have told him that last bit. But, she considered, there was nothing in there that would indicate her family used a different sort of magic. She only brought the notebooks with correspondence tables to school.

"Yes, sir." she replied. She dug around in her bag for a moment, then handed it over.

The Potions Master opened the notebook and slowly flipped through the pages. Connie remained silent, watching him as he glanced over the information inside. The further along he got, the more thoughtful he became.

"In the future, any substitutions or changes to your potions are to be cleared with me in advance." he told her, glancing up from the pages. "Do you understand me, Miss Stryker?"

She immediately nodded her assent, and he inclined his head.

"Good. Now, get out of my office."

That was it? No detention or house points taken away? He made no move to give her notebook back, but surely he would return it when he was finished reading. Constance knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. Before Snape could change his mind, she gathered up her things and left.

The moment she returned to the Gryffindor common room for the night, she was blasted with questions from all sides. What did Snape want? Did she get in trouble? How many points did she lose? When Connie explained what it had been about, Hermione looked puzzled.

"That's odd." she said. "I wound up writing a scroll about how the bad mugwort would throw off the potion, but he didn't talk to me about it."

Well, Constance hadn't written anything at all. She had changed the whole recipe to make it work. Ron gave a start from his position in one of the chairs and gaped at them.

"Wait a minute! The git gave us bad mugwort!"

Hermione sniffed at him. "If you had read your book, you would have known that."

The ginger headed boy blinked. "Read the... who actually reads their bloody school books?"

"Anyone who doesn't want to get a big, fat T on all their assignments, that's who." the girl said snippily.

The Weasley twins, who had been listening in on the conversation from one of the side tables, looked over with mutual grins on their faces.

"Don't worry Ron." One said. "Snape gives T's to all the Gryffindors."

"Yeah, being stupid doesn't count for much with him. You'll just get one anyway."

"Hey!" Ron shouted. "I'm not stupid!"

Fred and George exchanged a look and burst out laughing. Connie was shaking her head at the whole thing when she caught sight of Professor McGonagall stepping in through the portrait hole. All the students took notice. Apparently, their head of house didn't visit them in there personally unless something was important.

"Miss Stryker, may I have a word?"

Jesus, what the devil was it now? At this rate, she'd be having a conversation with all her teachers about that damn potion. Feeling every eye in the room boring into the back of her skull, Connie rose from the couch and went over to her.

"Yes ma'am?"

McGonagall handed her a slip of parchment. "Your schedule has been changed."

Constance blinked at her. "What?"

The older woman smiled, looking proud for some reason. "It seems that Professor Snape believes you would be better suited to a higher level course." she told her. "Starting tomorrow, you're to join the third year potions class."

Third year potions? Snape was moving her up two levels? She glanced down at her new schedule. One of her other classes had been moved to allow for the change. She'd be in the double potions class first thing in the morning. That was the class Mihnea was in. At least she would know someone in there...

"He asked me to return this to you as well." Professor McGonagall said, holding out her notebook. Her eyes twinkled with approval. "Bravo, Miss Stryker. Professor Snape rarely shows such favor to a Gryffindor. You must have made an impression."

When her head of house left, Constance was still staring down at the parchment in her hand. She had never expected something like this to come out of that meeting... She finally went back to sit down on the couch, still too shocked to say anything.

"Connie?" Hermione asked, looking worried. "Connie, what happened?"

She silently passed over her new schedule. The girl read it, her eyes going wide.

"Third year potions!" she exclaimed. "Snape moved you to third year potions!"

"What?" the twins said in unison, coming over to get a look from behind the sofa. "Hey, that's our class!"

One of them climbed over the back of the couch and squeezed in between the two girls.

"The name's George." he said, making sure to distinguish which one he was. "We'll look out for you in there. You want to be lab partners?"

"Hey!" Fred shouted, grabbing his brother's shoulders to pull him back over. "What if I want to be her lab partner?"

"You should have been faster about it then. I asked first."

The two boys started rolling around the floor in a scuffle. It was more of a playful, mischievous thing than an actual fight. Constance finally came out of her stunned silence and rolled her eyes at them. If those two were going to be in her class, then it was definitely going to be interesting.