The First Potion Lesson

The walk to Hogwarts from Hogsmeade was quite the trek for my small legs. The mana I had pumped around my body since birth allowed me to walk much farther than any kid my age should be able to, but I was still feeling tired from the journey. Snape would occasionally look over, appraising the way I moved. Something told me if I had asked, he might have carried me, but for me to appear as someone deserving of his lessons, I needed to stay strong and continue the trek on foot.

This was my first real lesson in the magical arts, and I was eager to learn everything I could from my godfather. Snape's reputation as a potions master was well known, and I hoped he could guide me in a way that the books in the manor could not. In the muggle world, it is often stated that for every hour spent in a classroom, a student might need to spend approximately 2 to 3 hours studying independently to achieve a similar level of understanding and mastery. Here, without the benefit of modern educational research and resources, a knowledgeable mentor like Snape was invaluable.

When we were at the manor, I pointed to a plant in a book that had complex reactions. Snape had looked at just the photo and was able to give me a basic rundown of how it reacted and how he could tell. I estimate that it would have taken me days on end of research to learn even a fraction of that.

We began to approach the castle. Though he was my godfather, I hadn't really gotten close enough for small talk with the man. Snape didn't seem like the type to comment on the weather or speak on a local Quidditch game. He was a stern man but an excellent educator, from what I had seen so far. After several minutes of walking, we came upon an ancient stone wall, partially hidden by ivy and moss.

"This way," Snape murmured, pressing his hand against a particular stone. The wall responded with a soft, grinding noise, a section of it sliding aside to reveal a narrow passageway. We slipped inside, the stone wall closing silently behind us.

The passage was cool and dimly lit by torches that flickered with a steady, magical light. The air smelled of damp stone and earth, and the faint sound of dripping water echoed through the narrow corridor. We walked for a few minutes in silence until we reached a steep, narrow staircase carved directly into the rock.

Snape led the way down, the steps worn smooth by centuries of use. At the bottom, what looked like a heavy wooden door awaited, carved with a wooden snake along its midsection, its surface rough and weathered with age. Snape placed his thumb into the snake's mouth and clicked a switch. The wood snake turned a dazzling green and moved to the side, taking the door with it and revealing a narrow tunnel that led directly into the castle.

The tunnel was short, and before long, we emerged behind a large, dusty tapestry depicting a serene forest scene. Snape carefully moved the tapestry aside, and we stepped out into a quiet, unused corridor on the ground floor of Hogwarts.

"This path is to be known by no one. We can't have students simply leaving the school whenever they wish now, can we?"

I followed him through a few twists and turns of the dungeon before entering a spare classroom he had prepared.

We entered a small, well-organized potions lab, filled with shelves of ingredients and neatly labeled jars. The air was thick with the scent of herbs and magical concoctions. Snape gestured for me to sit at a workbench, and I did so, my eyes wide with anticipation. The bench appeared to be shrunken as did many of the materials around me. The man had taken the time to prepare a perfect set of tools sized down for my small body.

"Today, we will start with the basics," Snape said, his voice smooth and commanding. "Potions are an exact science, and precision is key. Even the slightest mistake can lead to disastrous results. In my schooling years, a boy by the name of Pettigrew was too droll to tell the difference between moonstone dust and moonshale powder. He spent half a month in the infirmary shaving purple hair off his tongue."

He placed a large, ancient-looking book in front of me. The cover was worn, and the pages yellowed with age.

"This is Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Mensaul. We will begin with an incredibly simplified potion: the Wiggenweld Potion. It is a healing potion, useful for mending minor injuries and ailments. I know you have been using magic to overtax your body. I'm not sure in which way you do, and it is quite a novel way of strengthening yourself, but it may lead to injuries as you get older. As such, you should at least find a way to heal your stupidity if something begins to go wrong."

I felt a little slap in the face. My strategy was clearly working, and I was slowly perfecting it. Hell, I walked all the way here, which no one else should have been able to do. Snape was a very smart man, and even though he didn't know just how I was doing what I was doing, he didn't advise me to stop. I wonder if my parents had also figured out just what I was up to and were just allowing me to continue with it.

Snape opened the book to the relevant page, and I leaned forward to read the instructions. The recipe was detailed, listing the ingredients and the precise steps required to brew the potion.

"First, gather your ingredients," Snape instructed. "You will need Wiggentree bark, Moly, Dittany, and a vial of Flobberworm Mucus."

I followed his directions carefully. I went over to a bunch of vials he had placed onto another table, much lower to the ground than the shelves filled with every ingredient under the sun. Although they were labeled, not all of the labels were correct. He had put wiggentree root where wiggentree bark was. If I had followed the instructions using that, I wouldn't have injured myself, but the potion would have been much weaker. This was one of the ways the potion had been made 300 years ago. He was testing me, and if I had failed the test, he would have allowed me to find out my error at the end of the process without hurting myself. I retrieved the necessary ingredients from the table and brought them back to my desk. Snape watched me closely, his dark eyes keen and observant.

"Good. Now, begin by finely chopping the Wiggentree bark. Precision is crucial. Each piece must be of equal size."

I took a small knife and carefully began chopping the bark, making sure each piece was as uniform as possible. Snape nodded approvingly.

"Next, add the chopped bark to your cauldron and heat it over a low flame."

I did as instructed, lighting a small flame beneath the cauldron and adding the bark. The potion began to simmer gently, and I could smell the woody aroma of the Wiggentree bark.

"Now, add three drops of Flobberworm Mucus," Snape continued. "Overdoing this by even a drop will lead to the potion becoming too thick to drink."

I measured out the mucus carefully, counting each drop as it fell into the cauldron. The potion's color began to change, turning a pale green.

"Stir the potion counterclockwise three times, then add the Moly leaves, then stir twice clockwise," Snape said.

I followed his instructions, stirring the potion and then adding the Moly leaves. The potion's color deepened to a rich emerald green.

"Finally, add a single drop of Dittany," Snape instructed. "This will complete the potion and give it its healing properties."

I carefully added the drop of Dittany, watching as the potion shimmered and settled into a deep, vibrant green. Snape peered into the cauldron, his expression unreadable.

"Well done, Seras," he said finally. "You have successfully brewed your first potion. Remember, potions require patience, precision, and practice. Today, you have taken your first step in mastering this art."

I smiled towards him, ready to thank him for his guidance when he continued speaking, "you weren't perfect, however. You would normally have been given a fine grade, but you are talented far beyond your peers, and so I will grade you tougher than your peers. When cutting the bark, you cut with the grain, as opposed to against. This may decrease the efficacy by 2%. When adding drops, they were not uniform. Perfect drops are an art that comes with time, one that you will have to master with further practice to create more difficult potions. The measurements that you used for the Moly leaves were not exact either. Though you added the proper amount, the mass was what mattered. I didn't give you a scale, but you should have grabbed one. You also added them all together instead of individually, this drops efficacy by another 1-2%. Finally, you stirred about 2 degrees extra on the three counterclockwise and 1 degree less on the clockwise. This drops the potion's power by as much as 3%."

I had thought I had been near perfect. I had spent so much time in a lab in my past life that I believed I would instantly master the processes. I had learned much about what to do in potion-making today and maybe found another way to add a few items to this world. If I could somehow introduce a micropipette for exact ml measurements or an electronic scale for more exact weighing of Moly leaves, it could lead to a 5% increase in the strength of most potions made for sale. This may seem minor, but in the case of more dangerous and valuable potions, a 5% increase could be the difference between life and death.

Snape gave me a rare, small smile. "Keep this potion. You may find it useful in your studies. Next time, you will remake this potion again and again until you can do it blindfolded and better than today. Always remember that just because you are ahead now doesn't mean that you will stay ahead. You need to work harder to truly maximize your talent. For now, clean your workstation and make sure all ingredients are properly stored. I'm going to send you home with five papers written by first-year students on this simplified potion. Tomorrow I expect you to tell me what was wrong with each of them and what was right."

He passed me Magical Drafts and Potions and led me to the fireplace to go home. He would pick me up late tomorrow for my second lesson. I was still in a little bit of shock; my own godfather assigned me homework on the first day. I threw the floo into the fire and said "Malfoy Manor".