Brewing

The Sorting Hat's song was funny and light-hearted, and the Sorting itself was entertaining. Elya remembered her own as being one of the single most terrifying experiences of her entire life, but as much drama as it had caused within her family, she was fairly pleased with the outcome of it. She wouldn't have fit in well with the Slytherins. They had a certain air that she just did not possess.

The seventh-year sat with the girls she had been roommates with for the past six years, greeting them kindly before listening closely to Dumbledore (who, unlike her father, Elya thought to be a fabulous wizard), and tucking in to her meal.

Being back inside the castle was nice. She was quite attached to it, though not to the same extent as some, but that probably had to do with the fact that even on break, she was completely surrounded by magic and was permitted to perform it. Still, the overall atmosphere of Hogwarts was much more positive than anything she'd ever felt at home.

All of the students seemed extremely excited to be back as well, judging by the loud chatter, and, glancing at the staff table, all of the professors also looked quite chipper. McGonagall and Dumbledore were sharing a laugh. Hagrid was listening politely to one of Trelawney's bogus prophecies. Madame Hooch and Sinistra were discussing one thing or another, probably what the night sky looked like while on a broom. All of the faces were familiar save for one, a man with gray hair, a bulbous nose, and thick-rimmed glasses. Dumbledore had introduced him as Professor Jephyrs, the year's Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

Next to the new addition, Snape, clothed entirely in black, looked up from his wine goblet, black orbs easily landing on Elya. Both gave a short nod, a habit that both had fallen into once the girl had started attending the school to politely acknowledge one another without raising any suspicion. Snape didn't fraternize with students, no matter his relation to them.

The students were dismissed after a large dessert of pudding and cauldron cakes with the promise of classes the next day.

Elya made her way to Ravenclaw tower, solving the riddle password in her head as the House prefect answered out loud.

Her room mates were four other seventh-years-- Cheryl, Brody, Mallie, and Nabeen, the first two being twin sisters with identical green eyes, strawberry blonde hair, and vague smiles. Mallie was a very talkative and bouncy brunette, and the only thing she seemed to like more than the boys of Hogwarts was the gossip of the castle. Nabeen was most like Elya in the way that she kept mostly to herself and to her books. She was friendlier than the pale girl, though, and sometimes added into the other girls' conversation in the common room, which was more than Elya could say.

She got ready for bed, changing into pajamas, brushing her teeth and hair, and setting her uniform out for the morning. She wasn't particularly happy about starting classes, but she was eager to fall into the easy routine that the term promised.



Elya had Alchemy in the morning, a class she shared with Dervish. Naturally, they sat next to one another. Rivalries weren't strong between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, so nobody looked at them strangely. They started the period off by turning in their summer assignment then began working on a quiz of what they remembered from the year before.

When she was younger and had attended public school, first days were usually blow-offs. Children reunited and shared stories from their break while receiving syllabus after syllabus. Hogwarts was very different, though the students did get to listen to a rather harsh welcome back speech from Professor Tucker that quickly turned into a lecture about how difficult the class would be since they were taking it at N.E.W.T. level.

"Seems like this year's going to be loads of fun," Dervish whispered, flicking hair from his eyes as he clumsily scratched out an answer for one of the five free response questions.

The quiz wasn't too troublesome, as most of it was over history, and when she was finished, she took it to Tucker, took her seat, and pulled out her Potions book, making notes where she could. She still had another forty- five minutes in Alchemy, and she was going to take full advantage of it.

There were only about ten other students in the class. Alchemy had never been a high in demand course at Hogwarts, and some years, the school didn't even offer it. Just enough students signed up for it Elya's sixth year, though, and she had always found the subject rather fascinating, so she dropped divination and picked up the new course. So far, she had yet to grow too terribly bored with it.

Her schedule showed that she had Potions next, also with Hufflepuff, meaning Annabella would be with her. She had chosen to keep the subject with Elya while Dervish dropped it like a hot potato. Potions wasn't everybody's strongest subject, after all.

Professor Tucker dismissed the class, telling them to write out the complete timeline of Alchemy for homework.

"D'you know how much parchment that's going to take?" Dervish whined. "I'm going to have to sneak into Scrivencraft's by the end of the week if he keeps up at this rate!"

"Oh shush, just be glad he didn't ask us to write about all of the events in history along with mapping them out. That'd be a nightmare."

"Nightmare?" Bell piped up, appearing beside the two with a sweet smile on her face. "Wouldn't happen to be talking about Potions, would you?"

"No," Elya snorted. "Not yet, anyway."

The blonde boy broke away from the two, making his way to Ancient Runes as Elya walked with the Hufflepuff down to the dungeons.

There was already a bitter smell in the air, and the Ravenclaw remembered that second-year Gryffindor and Slytherins had Potions first. Snape was bound to be in an awful mood already.

The classroom was dark, as always, shelves lined with jars of all kinds of nasty critters, floating in thick preservatives. It was cold, and every surface seemed to have a thin layer of mist on it because of this. Cauldrons were set up on each table, and the few students who were already sitting down looked frightened as the day they first stepped into the dungeon.

Bell and Elya chose a table to the left of the room in the second row back, the mousy- haired girl immediately going for the seat farthest from the aisle so that when the Potions Master leered over his students and criticized their work, Elya would have to take it. Annabella smiled at her friend in a way that could have given even Dumbledore a cavity, but the Ravenclaw just shrugged her off. She had never been particularly afraid of Snape.

"Quiet, quiet," the professor barked as he walked out of his office, slamming the door and making his way to the front of his classroom, black robes flying behind him. The students obeyed, some sitting up straighter, others sinking further into their chairs.

"This is seventh-year Potions. I, personally, haven't the slightest idea as to why any of you signed up for it since most of you barely scraped by in previous years." He was wearing the same bored expression that he always did, skin pale, lips pulled downward in a permanent grimace, as he spoke slowly, in a way that suggested that every one of his students were mentally handicapped. "This course will be much more difficult than anything you have taken at Hogwarts, and it will require most, if not all, of your attention. Many of you will drop the class, all of you will be failing at one time or another, and the majority of the potions that you'll attempt to make will end up being useless."

"Since when did he turn into Trelawney..." A Ravenclaw boy in the back of the classroom muttered just a little too loudly. In any other classroom, every student would have at least snickered. This was Potions, though, with Professor Snape, so instead, everybody cringed.

The raven-haired man stayed silent, lifting an eyebrow then slowly paced over to the table that the boy sat at. His name was Jarod O'Malley and he was one of the more obnoxious Ravenclaws.

"If you're so interested in fortune-telling, Mr. O'Malley, perhaps you should join the third years who are in Diviniation right now. I'm sure you would be much better suited in such an environment."

This time, the class did laugh quietly, Elya even cracking a smile.

"I-I, s-sir, I-..." the boy stuttered, face flushing a horrid shade of red.

Snape held a hand up and sneered. "Save it, as amusing as your unintelligible spluttering is, I have more important things to focus on." He then leaned over O'Malley threateningly, growling lowly, "Do not interrupt my class again, boy."

Then, he was back at the front of the room, leaving the scolded boy shaking slightly as he explained the days assignment, though, that was a loose term, as all he actually did was tap the blackboard with his wand and reveal a list of ingredients. The name of the Potion appeared nowhere.

Anna frowned in the corner, face scrunching up as she read over it. "What does that even make?"

Elya smirked as she opened her book. She had recognized the ingredients immediately, remembering having to gather them in her first year.

"It creates a healing potion called Wiggenweld."

"Wiggen- what?" The other girl snorted.

"Wiggenweld-- it has the power to wake someone who's fallen into a magically- induced sleep." Elya's eyes scanned the page once she found it, then the room, wondering why nobody else was up gathering materials.

"Like Sleeping Beauty, or Snow White?"

The Ravenclaw rolled her eyes and snorted, "Not exactly. As far as I know, Sleeping Beauty and Snow White woke up due to their being molested by their so-called Prince Charmings."

A very short and startling chuckle sounded from a little ways down the aisle, and Elya glanced at the Potions Master who was stalking about the classroom like a predator. She caught the briefest glimpse of a smirk on his face and shook her head.

"I'll gather the ingredients while you read the passage on Wiggenweld, so you're not completely useless." Elya pointed to the page then forced a smile, though she wasn't really joking at all.

Quietly, she slid from her stool and made her way to the different storage cabinets Snape stored potions materials in. Other students were still flipping through their textbooks, though a couple of them stood and followed the petite girl to the cupboards, mimicking her actions so that they didn't come off as completely inept.

She could feel the professor's eyes on her, something that unnerved her even when they weren't in a school environment. Elya had never gotten used to his gaze, probably because she felt like some kind of strange specimen whenever it was on her.

Returning to her table, she lit the burner under the cauldron and began working, knowing well that Wiggenweld was a complicated potion, easy to botch, and that sooner, rather than later, the dungeon was probably going to become a hazardous place.

Slowly but surely, her peers found the right page and joined the two girls in working. Fumes began to fill the room, a tart sort of smell that surged with energy.

Anna added ingredients at Elya's command as the concentrated girl stirred in a very precise manner, also changing the temperature of the potion as certain things were added.

"Alright, now add exactly three and a half Flitterbloom leaves and seven rose thorns at the same time."

"Three and a half? What if I don't rip the leaf in two exact halves?"

Elya sighed, wanting to swipe her bangs from her face but needing both hands to stir steadily. "Try your best," she said through gritted teeth. "Now come on, we don't have much time."

There were some rancid smells assaulting her senses, and two students had managed to create an explosion, which was hard for Elya to fathom as none of the materials were corrosive or all that flammable.

Anna did as she was told with hands that shook as Snape walked by, eyeing the cauldron and revealing none of his thoughts. The Hufflepuff held the leaves in one hand and the thorns loosely in the other, then slowly let them fall into the mixture while Elya began to stir counter- clockwise, reaching for her wand to make the flames a bit smaller.

"You have five minutes left," Snape sneered, rolling his eyes when his students rushed their work. That would only cause more problems.

Many potions began to bubble over the tops of cauldrons, and without any thoughts, Snape raised his wand to clean the messes, making mental notes to fail each sorry attempt at Wiggenweld as he went.

Once Elya and Anna finished moments later, their creation was something close to a kiwi green, which wasn't too far off from the expected neon color. Elya pouted at it not being perfect, knowing well that it was probably because the Flitterbloom half was more than half, but she figured it was good enough for a first attempt. It was much better than Inder Pannis and O'Malley's cauldron of goop.

Elle gathered some of their assignment in a vial, corking it and waiting for Snape to call time. When he did, the rest of the class groaned and retrieved their samples, a student from each partnership bringing it up to the professor save for those who had theirs wiped clean.

The pale girl watched as the man held up every sample, examining it and frowning. He'd shake his head then utter some sarcastic remark. There was only one other potion that came out acceptable, though Snape was hesitant to admit so. He regarded it with raised eyebrows for a few moments longer than the obvious failures before finally saying, "Passable."

Elya was second to last to hand in her and Anna's product and stood before the familiar man silently. She was easily a head shorter than him, and his billowing robes dwarfed her thin frame. He was intimidating, but he didn't actually intimidate Elya herself.

Much like the others, he looked from the vial, to Elya, then back. His expression was less disdainful, however, when he muttered the similar, "Not a complete failure," and placed the potion on his desk behind him, black eyes flickering with something akin to satisfaction.

Class was dismissed just a few minutes later, but when everybody filed out, Elya sat still, ignoring Anna's strange look, though still explaining vaguely, "Need to ask about something. I'll meet you for lunch." The girl looked somewhat worried but still left, leaving the room empty save for the Ravenclaw and the Potions Master.

Elya didn't talk with the man in private often, especially during school hours. The only times she had made it a point to see him was after his returns from the few, somewhat dangerous search missions he had taken part in, just to make sure he had gotten back in one piece.

She was aware that Snape had a reputation to uphold at the school. Nobody knew that he was a friend of her family except for Dumbledore and McGonagall, and Elle felt that it was best to keep it that way. To everyone else, he was the nasty, greasy, vindictive Potions professor.

"Realizing the full extent of my warning so soon, Miss Vavilov?" He questioned in a mocking tone as he took a seat at his desk.

Elya rolled her eyes and made her way closer, though she still kept her distance. "Please, as if I'd let you off that easily and drop. You'll have to put up with my lily arse for at least the rest of this term."

"Language, Elya. Wouldn't want to get a detention your first day back, would you?"

His low voice wasn't nearly as abrasive as it was when he was teaching a class. In fact, it held a teasing lilt, and he glanced up from the parchment in front of him with a raised eyebrow, the corners of his thin lips turning upward.

"That's not even swearing. I've heard you say much worse, Professor." His dark eyes shone brightly as he fought harder to hide his smile.

As she was growing up, the two had never been on joking terms, exactly, but Severus was the only one of her father's friends who she was even close to comfortable with. She didn't really have a choice in the matter, as he had seen her at her absolute worst, most vulnerable state. He had witnessed her destruction, and that wasn't something that either of them could just forget. Though the incident with Greyback was never brought up between the two, it had bound them together in a way, leaving them as much more than mere acquaintances, much more than than student and professor, but still less than friends. It was, needless to say, an odd relationship.

With age, though, came easier conversation, as Elya could understand and appreciate Snape more. He seemed to recognize this, as well, and though he never went out of his way to talk with her, he did give her the time of day when they crossed paths, so long as they weren't at Hogwarts, and that was more than could be said for any of the other Death Eaters.

"Considering the circumstances I'm sure I was in at the times of my alleged swearing, I'm sure you can understand." Elya only grinned, staring at him until he prompted, "What do you want? I haven't the time to defend myself from petty accusations."

The girl shrugged her shoulders and leaned against the nearest table. "I was just going to ask how your morning was going, wanted to make sure you aren't going to use any unforgivables on your sorry students any time soon."

"Mm, you're confusing me with Lucius," he grimaced. "Unforgivables aren't my ideal brand of poison."

Elya snorted and nodded, "Ah, right you are."

"Of course I am," he agreed smugly, averting his eyes. "Anyway, as touching as your concern for me is, Elya, I imagine your little friends are worried about you, and while I do enjoy instilling fear in all of my students, I don't exactly appreciate hearing the many rumors of how I torture those I keep after class. Soon, they'll think I've got you gagged and bound in my office."

The Ravenclaw let out something close to a squeak, and felt her face flush, and Snape stilled his writing, a blush creeping up his neck as he cleared his throat. "That didn't sound nearly as noble as I had hoped."

Elya snorted and shook her head in an attempt to rid herself of any thoughts that included her and Severus in compromising positions. "I, uh, yeah, erm, I'll just-... This has turned into a sufficiently awkward situation, so I'll just be, yeah, bye." It was a clumsy attempt at an exit, and halfway through, the Potions Master had raised his gaze to watch her stutter, extremely amused. Uncomfortable as he was feeling, he had to admit, the seventh-year was quite endearing when painted pink.

She turned and walked quickly from the classroom, showing one last, stiff smile before disappearing from view.