Stealing into the restricted section had been easier than he had hoped, taking the books a little harder but nothing a bit of wand waving could solve. He had a small collection running now; enough to be reading for the moment anyway. He should be free of the Trace by Samhain if all went to plan.
Figuring out the Sorting Hat's petty riddle had been trying, however. A nice challenge really, considering the disappointment of everything else. From what he had gathered, Salazar Slytherin's ghost or portrait dwelled in the dungeons; he just had to find the long dead man. Once Slytherin was found, and persuaded to let slip that little bit of information he was most anxious to have, he could go into the chamber.
He planned to go in search for Salazar Slytherin that afternoon. But first he had to deal with Potions and the professor that came with it.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making." The professor spoke in barely whisper but they all heard him, many too scared to do anything else and others too enthralled by the eerie, dangerous melodic way in which he spoke. He did not believe he had ever heard a more perfect way of speaking. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't really expect you to understand the beauty of a softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through the human veins, bewitching the mind and ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper in death- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads that I usually have to teach."
The end of the glorious speech finished with a scowling snap, startling many of the kitty cat Gryffindors. Harry barely glanced at them; his eyes firmly fixed on the very possible traitor to the Dark but seeing him now, looking at him now, hearing him now Harry could very easily guess where the man's allegiances lay. The Dark would always win him over. Once ensnared by its beauty there was no going back especially by a man whose passion is with his talents and the same man had created spells of only the most dangerous and illegal kind…
"Potter!" Snape said suddenly, before sneering, "The celebrity that is." The class's attention drifted to the arrogant toe-rag that sat surrounded by his lackeys. "What would I get if I added shredded edelweiss to a bare hot cauldron?"
The mudblood's hand shot into the air, whilst Saeviour looked truly stumped at being called upon before his face twisted into an ugly, arrogant expression.
"I don't know Snivellus," he sneered. "You tell me."
"Twenty points from Gryffindor," the potions master snapped. "Try again, what are the effects of purified lavender in most potions?"
The mudblood's hand was in the air again and Saeviour was back to simply not knowing.
"Pick on someone your own size Death Eater," he bit out.
"Thirty points from Gryffindor," the dungeon's bat snarled. The Slytherins all secretly shared their gloating smiles, eyes openly mocking the lions. "Again, what would happen if cypress was eaten raw?"
The Mudblood faltered for a moment before her hand was again begging for the attention of a teacher, the only teacher, that would not give it to her.
"I don't know sir," Saeviour snarled, "Hermione does, why don't you ask her?"
"Ten points from Gryffindor," Snape said softly, turning away the Gryffindors he muttered, "Let's see if the other Potter can do better." He raised an eyebrow at him expectantly.
Harry answered, understanding perfectly. "If you added shredded edelweiss to a bare cauldron you would have a minor explosion to a fatal explosion depending on your precautions, the amount added and the heat of the flame," his voice alone sent shivers down other's backs. "Purified lavender causes a drowsy or sleep effect in most potions, hence why it is a key ingredient in Draught of the Living Death. And finally, raw cypress when eaten can cause slow poisoning, the final effect being inexplicable death."
"Fifteen points to Slytherin," Snape called, before whirling on the rest of the class. "Well? Why aren't you writing this down?"
Penning it down in elegant script, Harry mused on the confirmation. An old Death Eater code that was used by the more public of figureheads…one his fellow inmates had been sure to teach him. Subtly, effectively, Snape had passed on the truth of his allegiances to everyone who cared to listen. Or perhaps more specifically, him.
Taken together it spelt out clearly; 'My allegiances and devotion are towards the Death Eaters.'
Dumbledore's favorite pet wasn't so loyal after all.
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