Lucrecia: Und dann war da noch...

Lu's Anwalt:
*mit Robe unterm Arm an Lu's Büro vorbeistampf*

Lu:
Wo gehen Sie denn jetzt hin? (er hat doch gar keinen Termin?)

Lu's Anwalt:
Der H. (Steuerberater) will meine Robe und ich weiß nicht warum. *Grinst* Bin mal schnell bei denen vorne.

Lu:
Okay o_ô

Lu's Anwalt:
*nach 10 Minuten wieder kommt*

Lu:
Und wo haben Sie jetzt Ihre Robe gelassen?

Lu's Anwalt:
Die hat der Herr H. behalten.

Lu:
Und was will der damit? o_O;

Lu's Anwalt:
Der will damit Harry Potter machen!

Lu:
Wie jetzt? XD Für Halloween oder was?

Lu's Anwalt:
Ich hab auch gemeint, das passt so gar nicht. Harry Potter ist doch so ein junger Kerl! Der sollte mal eher den Voldemort machen! *komische Zombie-Geste macht*

Lu + Lu's Anwalt:
*snort*

"How was your day?" He couldn't believe he'd asked the question. Nor apparently could Harry for he looked up in surprise.

"Fine," he replied, an odd expression on his face. His answer wasn't entirely accurate of course -- Severus knew he was angry about the more than thirty house points he'd lost. "How was yours?" That last was civilly spoken, but just barely.

"Fine," Severus answered, debating mentioning that he had enjoyed the opportunity afforded to him to potentially rob Gryffindor of the house cup this year. "How are your classes going?" He told himself that he really wasn't interested. Just making polite conversation.

"Fine," Harry said again, and then a strange light entered his eyes. "Well, not all my classes," he added.

"Oh?" Curious in spite himself, Severus leaned forward wondering if Harry was going to share something about his other classes, and wondering why he cared if he did.

"Yes," Harry continued. "I hate my potions class," he explained blithely. "I don't get along with the teacher. He can't seem to explain anything in a way that makes sense."

Severus' eyes narrowed as he found himself caught somewhat off guard by the tact Harry was taking. He'd of course initiated it, asking about the classes after all. But he hadn't expected such an open insult. "Maybe if you paid more attention, the things he told you would make more sense," he bit out.

"I do pay attention," Harry insisted. "It just doesn't seem to do any good! He doesn't give good directions. I do exactly what he tells me to do and my potions still blow up in my face."

"Exactly what he tells you!" Severus leaped to his feet, incensed by the blatant lie. "You chop instead of slice, dice or sliver. You don't mash, ground, or grind any of your ingredients properly and you fling them together as if you're making a stew instead of a magical potion!"

Harry leaped to his feet as well. "You tell me to add a cup of Ansil Weed, I add a cup. You tell me to add a salamander tongue, I add a salamander tongue. And then you tell me I did everything wrong!"

"I told you to add a cup of DICED Ansil Weed, and a SLIVERED salamander tongue!" Severus roared back at him.

Harry's eyes widened in disbelieving outrage. "They all turned to mush in the cauldron anyway. What in hell does it matter if they're diced, sliced or mashed!"

"You stupid boy! It matters!" Severus yelled at him in fury. "The preparation changes the properties of the ingredients. Any five-year-old wizard knows that!"

"I was never a five-year-old wizard!" Harry shouted back, once again turning Severus words from several days ago right back on him. Shocked Severus stepped back in amazement. The boy was too clever by half, and now that he stopped and thought about it he had a point to boot. He stood in silence, blinking at the angry young man in disbelief. Well. . . damn! Making a quick decision he turned and walked swiftly toward the door to his private lab.

"Come here," he told ordered, pushing open the door. He didn't bother to see if the young man was following him. Instead he began rummaging through his stores on the shelves around the room, removing a jar containing Wizarding sugar root. When he turned back around Harry was standing beside his worktable, waiting patiently, his face still fixed in a stubborn but expectant frown.

Severus set down several of the sugar roots, and picked up a sharp knife. He began cutting through the roots with quick deft strokes of the knife, dicing some, slicing others, chopping a third pile and final dropping some into a mortar and pestle and grinding a fourth bit. Then he handed one of the untouched roots to Harry. "Taste," he ordered.

Looking somewhat put out, Harry took the root from his hand and bit off a small portion. "It's sugar root," he shrugged. "Tastes sweet."

Severus handed one of the sliced pieces of root. "Taste," he ordered again.

Sighing, Harry took a bite of that. He frowned at the taste, his eyes widening slightly. "It's. . .not as sweet."

Satisfied, Severus handed him a piece of diced root. Harry tasted it without being asked this time. "It's salty!" he exclaimed.

Next he handed over the chopped root. "Tart!" Harry sounded completely baffled.

Severus held out the bowl with ground root inside it, watching as Harry dipped a finger in and brought it to his mouth. He found himself a bit preoccupied with the pink tongue that licked the digit clean and almost didn't hear Harry exclaimed. "It's too sweet now!"

"Sugar root is one of the more extreme examples of magical ingredients," Severus informed him. "The differences in preparation are extraordinarily noticeable, something every Wizarding child learns in their mother's kitchen growing up. All the magical ingredients you use in potions are affected by the way in which they are prepared. If a potion asks for diced Ansil Weed and you chop them you might as well have just added a completely unrelated ingredient for all the good it will do."

Harry looked completely flummoxed. "No one ever told me," he stammered. "I thought you were just being fussy."

"Fussy!" Severus glared at him.

"How was I supposed to know?" Harry insisted. "You never mentioned any of this. Not even during my first year."

"Don't they teach you these things in Muggle Studies?" Severus had never actually taken Muggle Studies himself, having believed it to be a waste of time. He was beginning to think his assessment has been accurate.

"No," Harry told him. "And I don't take Muggle Studies -- it's pointless. According to Neville they are currently discussing the relative merits of analog verses digital watches. Something no Muggle-born cares about."

"Then apparently we need two different versions of Muggle studies," Severus mused. Muggle Studies was supposed to teach Wizarding children about the Muggle world, and Muggle-born children about the Wizarding World. It seemed however it focused on the ridiculous minutia of the Muggle World alone.

"Apparently," Harry agreed, looking down at the collection of sugar root. "I'm sorry."

Surprised by the apology, Severus raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "For what?"

"For screwing up in potions," he explained.

Severus sighed. "I'm the teacher," he admitted grudgingly. "It was my mistake not yours. I should have figured out what the problem was." A thought occurred to him. "You don't suppose that's what Longbottom's problem was?"

"No," Harry shook his head. "He's wizard-born. He's just terrified of you."

Severus almost laughed at the explanation. "And you're not?"

Harry looked up at him, his gaze open and thoughtful. "No," he admitted. "I've been living here three weeks now and you haven't even come close to killing me. No matter how angry I've made you."

Suddenly suspicions Severus glowered at him. "Have you been trying to make me angry?"

"No," Harry smiled. "If I was really trying, you'd know. Sirius has been mailing me lists of suggestions that he's certain will send you into a rage."

"Potter!" Severus sputtered in shock, not at all certain how to take that comment. He actually wouldn't put it past Sirius Black to do just such a thing. Remus Lupin too.

Harry just grinned somewhat cheekily at him. "I'm going to bed," he announced and left him there still struggling to find words.

After a moment Severus just gave up and laughed softly. He hated to admit it, but he as actually starting to like the boy.