The Teacher's Impressions Year 1
In a stone room filled with the sound of a boiling cauldron, a dark-haired man with a slightly crooked nose stood over his work, adding in the pinch of fairy dust he would need for the current step of his potion crafting. This, along with many other such things, was one of the ingredients sold by the first-year student Tom Dick Harrison.
He refused to call him by his original name despite what the Hogwarts quill had listed him as for magical purposes. His adopted family name was quite close enough either way. The boy did nothing to deserve to be treated as the butt of a joke due to his birth parents' unfortunate naming ability.
He remembered well how he had come across a set of house elves working on selling ingredients to the students and asking them how they obtained such things. House elves were not known for wanting to obtain currency of their own, so he had reasonable suspicion that these were not, in fact, house elves of Hogwarts, and that one of his Purebloods had decided to create a little side business for themselves.
Upon his questioning, however, they mentioned that it was Tom, the mugglebornorphan Hufflepuff who was selling them, and that had gotten his immediate attention.
He had seen firsthand the quality of that student's potions. It was something he expected of one using his own personal suppliers, but he had wondered if perhaps he had found another. Someone he might have to keep an eye out for, if the quality of what he found was any indication.
However, Severus Snape was not a man who asked pointless questions. Not to those who knew how to use their resources wisely. It was not up to him to demand an inspection, nor to dig too deeply into the lives of his students. So, if Tom had managed to find himself a supplier of top-quality magical ingredients, one that wished to use him as their public face for selling mildly illegally gained goods, he wasn't going to snitch.
He even approved of using his mind to find the resources, and of selling them through an intermediary like the house elves. It showed that he understood proper risk management, and was more than happy to delegate when the time called for it.
You see, he wasn't like those utter imbeciles that prided themselves on working with their sub-par materials simply because they were labelled as 'ethically sourced'. No, he understood well the need for fresh ingredients that were utterly pristine in nature. For ingredients that were handled poorly or were past their prime usage date would most certainly affect the quality of whatever potions you were attempting to brew.
This was why when Tom began to sell such things for a ludicrously low price, he instead paid him the full value of what they were worth, and thoroughlyencouraged others to do the same. After all, if he decided he could sell them for a better price elsewhere, he most certainly would. He was the type to hunt a profit when he could see one, Snape could tell. And he could indeed respect such a thing.
It meant that he had the drive, the willingness to make things some might normally be morally against. To hone his craft to such a degree that even he, a renowned potions master worldwide, was impressed by his hard work and dedication.
Tom was no genius. No savant or intellectual superior of any kind. He did not have the qualifications to be known as a game changer for the world of potions at this very moment.
What he did have, however, was the drive to improve. A hunger for knowledge far beyond those of his year. The willingness to work harder than anyone else to achieve his goals.
Snape had heard many of his upperclassmen complaining about the fact that they had to take more and more detailed notes. This was simply because Tom would buy their old textbooks and notes from them to go over the things they had learned. Along with the fact that he would pay a premium for those who truly broke down the steps and mistakes they had made, and how to avoid them or rectify them before things became… explosive.
As a result, his classes had become much less hazardous to the health and wellbeing of the students, and much less incidents occurred during class. Such a thing was a massive benefit for Snape as a teacher, as it meant much less time wasted cleaning up after dunderheaded mistakes, and much more time being able to actually teach.
It also helped that many of the students had taken his example, and had begun doing the same, whilst openly asking for criticism on their work. Something he was all too happy to give, as it meant they were at least trying to improve, despite their failings.
If Snape was a lesser man, he would have been intimidated by the sheer single-minded pursuit of betterment. But he was well aware of how such thoughts wound up for him in his life so far, and he liked to think of himself as a better person than he was as a child. Even if he knew he was still filled with bitter resentment from those years.
However, Snape decided to keep an eye on this one. Perhaps he might just offer him a few more things to go over in his spare time, and maybe allocate an hour or two per week to extra classes for him. At least, if he wished to learn some of the more advanced techniques and potions a bit earlier. It would certainly be something to bring up before the summer break, at the very least.
For now though, he needed to work on his improvements to the luckpotion. If he was able to create something slightly less addictive and toxic, it might be worth looking into. Now where did he put that gold dust…
~~~~
This year had been wonderful so far! The students were so bright and full of energy! Why it made Fillius feel as if he were thirty years younger again!
There was even a young student, Tom Dick Harrison — and wasn't that a peculiar name — who was more than willing to practice spells with the upperclassmen and himself whenever they had the extra courses available! He hadn't skipped even a single one!
Now Filius Flitwick was not born yesterday. Tom most certainly had managed to get his hands on a Time Turner somehow, but he seemed to be using it properly and responsibly, so the half-goblin wizard saw no need to turn him in to the headmaster. After all, what harm was a little extra time in a day to learn all you could from Hogwarts while you were still young!
Why, he had done much the same in his youth, and it led to him being known worldwide as the reigning dueling champion for almost his entire life afterwards! It was a real treat to see someone with such a passion for learning, and he was almost mildlyupset that the boy hadn't been sorted into his house at the start of the year.
However, just because he was a Hufflepuff through and through — especially with the amount of work he powered through every single day — didn't mean that Filius was in any way going to hinder his growth. Quite the opposite in fact!
Tom had expressed interest in the dueling arena, and so he had requisitioned a Time Turner for himself from the Ministry. He did this in order to spend just a little more time per week helping Tom learn the things he needed to, as well as setting up proper dueling opponents for him to practice against with supervision.
Was it favoritism? Why yes, indeed it was. But any true teacher will tell you that there is no such thing as a teacher who does not at least have one favorite student of theirs that they worked with over the years.
Teaching was an experience. A journey in which both the Teacher and Student come out the better for it in the end. To deny the act of enjoying the feeling of such was to call yourself out as someone unfit to be teaching the next generation of Witches and Wizards. Especially at a place so well-renowned — even famous — for their excellence and the quality of the teachings as Hogwarts was.
Filius just knew that Tom Dick Harrison would go far. And that was what he was planning to tell the others at the upcoming staff meeting.
Hopefully Dumbledore would be a bit more, hmmm. Present this time? It would most certainly help if he could actually remember the details of the meetings after they were finished.
But Filius didn't hold his hopes out for it. The man still had much of his special pipe filler left for now, and Filius wasn't entirely sure if it was actually the fault of the strange smelling weed he smoked, or if he was simply getting old. However, he knew that his replacement would be much less fun to work with, so he simply didn't dare to comment on it.
There was a good saying his parents used quite frequently that he applied to this religiously. It simply wasn't his business what other people imbibed, so long as they got their work done well enough.
And so far, that had been exactly the case. So, as a wise friend once told him: 'It will be fiiine, everything is fiiiiine.'
With that thought in mind, he made his way to the headmaster's office, making sure to apply the anti-smoke charm to his face as he did. It simply wouldn't do to breathe in too much of it, after all!
~~~~
A puff of calming, relaxing smoke. Another, and another. A few brownies and some tea. Dumbledore was feeling as mellow as he wished to be in his office while he listened to their teacher's reports for the last semester of the year.
Inhale smoke, exhale smoke rings. He was quite happy to simply be.
After all, his staff members were a capable bunch. Surely they could handle themselves well enough to take care of the students without him needing to micro-manage their every move.
The world wasn't chess, and the wizarding war was already over, so Dumbledore had all the time in the world to simply let go and enjoy the moment. If only his companion Fawkes the Phoenix felt the same.
"Dumbledore. This Tom," Professor McGonagall intoned as if it was a mildly poisonous snake that she wished to avoid at all costs. "How can we be certain that he's not related to You Know Who?"
"My dearest friend…" Dumbledore began, taking another puff from his pipe and releasing it gently. "I will not judge someone simply based on their given name, no matter their talents."
Apparently that was the right thing to say, as Minerva blushed furiously at her misstep. Clearly, she had been letting her protectiveness over her house get away from her once again, and was worried that someone in the school was about to cause a bit of mischief. How unfortunate that she refused to partake in his calming draughts and special pipe weed.
Such a wonderful invention that American student of his had shared with him in celebration of the Dark Lord's defeat. He was quite happy to say that the barrel of product would last him for a great many years before he would need to restock. Just in time for young Harry to come to Hogwarts. Oh, how much he looked forwards to seeing the smiles on the faces of many in the years to come when The Boy Who Lived, his own personal ward, came to enjoy the magic of the Wizarding World.
Such a thing would prove wonderful. He would be treated as a hero!
Dumbledore was sure the child was being raised lovingly by his Aunt and Uncle. They were the type that seemed to indulge in luxuries from time to time, and enjoy spending time in the community with friends after all. And their own son would likely get along rather well with him, as that was how they were as a family.
He received reports on them every week. Though whenever he had the time to sit down to read them, some emergency or other happened at one of his various jobs, and by the time he was back to his office, he had already long forgotten.
Dumbledore felt bad about it indeed, but he had faith that if it was urgent and pressing, one of his many agents situated around the area would tell him post-haste! After all, it was quite well known that he was rather fond of the boy, and that he wished him to be raised in a healthy, stable environment full of love and care.
It seemed he was off on another tangent, however. He did not have the focus needed to continue the meeting for much longer, so he figured he should make a comment or two to let people know he was still awake.
"Ah, let me know if this Tom is interested in having a little chat," Albus Dumbledore said with a grandfatherly smile. "I would certainly love to hear his opinions on the school and wizarding society as a whole, if he is willing."
Such topics were all the rage when he was an impressionable young man. People from all ages would come together to discuss the various things they had discovered or learned at places of interest, connections would be made, and bonds would be forged that would rarely ever be broken.
He would not make the same mistakes he had made with Tom Riddle if he had any say in it. Dumbledore was ashamed to admit it, but a good portion of why Riddle had gone out of his way to become evil was because Dumbledore was too harsh on him. Because he tried to restrict and control someone in the hopes that they wouldn't turn out like him, or his dear old lover Grindelwald.
Unfortunately, Dumbledore knew all too well that it all could have been prevented, simply by introducing the poor boy to some proper companions. Ones that would help him see value in life and happiness.
No, he would not make that same mistake again. Instead, he would properly help the boy along the path he wished to take, and simply be there to advise him, and pick him back up when he fell. It certainly would have helped him, if he had someone willing to do such during those trying times.
As such, he would ensure that the boy was in a better position than he was as a child. After all, the truly gifted needed special attention to ensure they did not accidentally misplace a part of their soul due to some ritual in a women's toilet, or something equally as ridiculous.
A puff in, a smoke ring out.
It's not like that had happened to any of his students before to his knowledge, so he had nothing to fear.
~~~~
AN:
Kitsu: More Chapters for the Chapter Gods, more Stories for the Fluff Throne!
Or something like that.
Anyways, chapter 8. An interlude chapter to show other people's perspectives.
Was fun writing snape.
Asdo21: Always loved reading alt POVs of people reacting to MC's in the story, hopefully you all do to. Now back to dying again, blargh.
Kitsu: Come chat with me on discord! I could always use more beta readers.
Also, if you all want more stuff from me, or you want something done your way, my commissions are open~
aikoakiyoshi carrd
EN:
Kitsu: I'm so glad I have TheLetter_A working with me on this, because I don't want to imagine a Yoga Teacher snape ever again. Positions Master my furry ass lmao.
TheLetter_A: Man somehow managed to typo "renowned potions master" into "renowned positions master". Everyone laugh at him.
Kitsu: It's not nearly as bad as how many times you stumbled over perfectly normal words trying to read it aloud. Man read "Happy to simply be" As "Hamply to sippy be" and said "Another Pipe from his Puff". Everyone can laugh at him too if they're gonna laugh at me lmao. I know we both did.
Apparently Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore is now simply Alfred Dumbledore btw. Don't ask me how that happened. I have no clue, and neither does TheLetter_A.
By the way, Professor McGonagall wasn't actually trying to imply that the name was what linked Tom Dick Harry to Tom Riddle on it's own. He was an orphan in the war, with unknown parentage, and yet was able to advance in skill almost as a direct mirror to how fast Voldemort grew in power. And while he is somewhat more bookish, he still has plenty of noble house companions following him around and doing stuff for him behind the scenes at this point as they chill with him.
Every data point she can actually see is a direct parallel to Voldemort, who she is terrified of. She isn't thinking rationally, at all, and let her mind get the better of her.
Don't think badly of her lmao, she's just scared that he might end up the same.
TheLetter_A: Yey, we managed to edit this in one day! Though admittedly this chapter is a bit shorter than the others, so that may have helped. The weather is still rather sunny while I'm typing this, perfect for a bike ride.
Can't be bothered with the usual self-promotion today. I do editing, Kitsu's carrd, Kitsu's Discord Server, yadda yadda.
See you all next time! :wave: