The Great Hall buzzed with the usual morning activity, with students excitedly talking about the hottest topic available, and a ripple of silence enveloped the hall as Harry strode in for breakfast the next day. He nonchalantly made his way over to the Gryffindor table where his Quidditch teammates were already sitting in their usual spot.
The faintest of smirks played on his lips as he glanced at Daphne and Tracey on the Slytherin table before eyeing Fleur discreetly who gave him a saucy wink as she turned away, resuming her breakfast.
Harry did not miss the numerous glares being directed at her, or at him, for what had transpired the previous day after the second task. He noted, with amusement, that they were both being glared at by opposite genders.
'Ha! As if anyone of you can stand by her side,' Harry thought disdainfully as he approached his teammates who were not subtle in their response either.
The moment they spotted him, they erupted into raucous cheers. Fred wolf-whistled loud enough to startle a first year into dropping her toast while her twin George banged his fist on the table in a mock fanfare. Alicia and Angelina were not so overt, but even they leaned back to regard him with matching catlike grins on their faces. It felt as if they had cornered a particularly juicy canary. However, opposed to them all, Katie merely arched an eyebrow, her eyes shining with amusement.
"Look who's decided to grace us with his presence!" Fred crowed, shoving a plate of sausages aside to make room. "The man of the hour, the hero of the hourglass, the—"
"—Champion of French relations," George finished, waggling his eyebrows.
Harry slid onto the bench beside Katie, reaching for a slice of toast. "Morning, lads. Sleep well?" he asked, as though the entire hall hadn't just gawked at him.
"Oh, brilliantly," Angelina drawled, propping her chin on her hand. "Though I reckon someone here had a far more… energetic night."
"Energetic?" Harry echoed innocently, taking a small bite. "Dunno what you mean. Unless you're talking about the lake. Bit chilly for a swim at night, wasn't it? Sorry, but I had enough of it in that task."
Alicia snorted into her tea. "Right, because swimming's the only thing you got up to at the lake. Forgive us for thinking the, ah… post-rescue celebrations might've been a tad more… heated."
They all laughed as Harry shrugged, unruffled, though his eyes gleamed with mischief. "Suppose you'll have to ask the judges if gratitude kisses count toward tournament points."
"Gratitude?" Fred gasped, clutching his chest. "Is that what they're calling it these days?"
"Oh, lay off him," Katie cut in, though her tone lacked any real reproach. She leaned closer to Harry, her shoulder brushing his as she lowered her voice. "Though I will say… now I know who your 'flame from Beauxbatons' is. The one you kept eyeing every time. Totally makes sense now. Can't say I expected it to be her though."
Harry smirked as he leaned close enough so that he could whisper in her ear.
"You jealous, Kitty?" He asked hotly, his proximity and his voice making her shiver in her spot. She leaned away from him and regarded him keenly for a moment before a sly grin emerged on her face.
"More like looking forward to some… exciting experiences, shall I say," she replied.
As she turned away and resumed her breakfast, Harry could only shake his head with a grin. Fleur, Daphne, Tracey, and Katie. All four women in his life were total deviants, exactly how he was and exactly how he preferred them.
"Still, it was quite a show you two put on yesterday," Angelina said, failing to suppress her grin entirely.
"I was just accepting her gratitude in the traditional French manner," Harry replied, reaching for another piece of toast.
"Looking right at home doing that as well," George remarked, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. "Honestly, Harry, if you're not careful, you'll end up on a chocolate frog card for snogging a bird like that."
"More like in Witch Weekly," Alicia chimed in. "Most Charming Smile and Most Kissable Wizard of the Year, perhaps?"
Harry chuckled, unbothered by the ribbing. "Well, it's nice to know you lot think so highly of me," he said dryly, taking a bite of his toast.
Meanwhile, the whispers and stares from the rest of the hall hadn't abated. Every now and then, Harry caught snippets of conversation as he glanced around: mentions of their names, the Second Task, and, of course, the kiss.
"Seriously though, mate—you and Delacour. Proper item now, are we?"
"Nah," Harry said easily, reaching for a pitcher of orange juice. "Just a moment. She was relieved about her sister. There aren't any labels of that sort. I didn't expect it to happen, to be honest."
"And still you didn't look surprised at all," Fred smirked. "You can't tell me you snogged a freaking Veela, and one that looks like her to boot, in front of the entire world to see, and it won't go anywhere. I know you have high standards," he eyed Katie as he said this, making the brunette roll her eyes, "but surely it can't get any higher."
"And what's that supposed to mean?" Alicia asked with an arched eyebrow.
"No offense meant to present company, obviously."
"Standards?" Angelina smirked. "Says the bloke who tried to kiss a bludger last year."
The group erupted into laughter again as Fred grabbed Angelina and tickled her. The girl playfully swatted him away and as the teasing subsided, Harry's gaze drifted over to the copy of the Daily Prophet lying abandoned near George's elbow. He snagged it, flipping to the front page, and his smirk deepened.
There was a small note that covered their kisses, but he saw no mention of Veela allure, or 'secret romances'.
His lips quirked.
'Good. Skeeter's finally learned to keep her quill in check.'
"Surprised they didn't dedicate the whole front page to your 'fervent, desperate kiss,'" Alicia teased, reading over his shoulder.
"Yeah, well. Maybe Skeeter's got better things to do these days," Harry said vaguely, tossing the paper back. "Speaking of better things," he continued, turning to Fred and George, "The lozenge worked like a charm. Really brilliantly done, you two. It's got the potential to be a real lifesaver."
Fred's grin widened. "Cheers, mate. Always good to know our products are lifesaving as well as entertaining."
"Lifesaving, eh?" George said, nudging his twin. "We ought to put that on the packaging of all our products then. 'May save your life in a pinch—or help you avoid homework.'"
Harry let out a laugh. "I mean it. I'm excited to see what you've got planned next. As for this one, all I'll say is that the business is going to be brilliant."
Fred and George exchanged a pleased look before the former asked, "You've got something in mind for it, haven't you?"
As one, all five pairs of eyes turned to Harry who kept eating calmly.
"Go on already," George added. "Spill it."
Harry's smirk returned as he took a large gulp of his orange juice, his expression both enigmatic and amused. "You'll have to wait," he said, leaning back in his chair. "For now, just focus on increasing production. Trust me, you'll want to be ready."
The twins' curiosity was palpable, but Harry's tone brooked no argument. Fred shrugged, grinning. "Fair enough. But don't keep us in suspense for too long, Harrykins."
"We're not a very patient sort, as you well know," George smirked.
"Just a little bit," Harry replied, his smirk widening.
As the group went back to their breakfast, chatting about random topics, Harry remained aware of the lingering gazes from other tables and the occasional giggle or whisper that followed his every move. He didn't mind. In fact, he found it almost amusing. Let them talk, he thought. For once, the attention didn't feel burdensome. If anything, it felt like a bit of fun.
Katie nudged him again as the others began to argue over defensive strategies during a Quidditch match.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" she asked quietly, her lips quirking into a knowing smile.
Harry glanced at her, and the mirth shining in her eyes made him grin. "Maybe a little," he admitted.
The brunette chuckled. "Just don't let it go to your head."
"Too late," he replied, grinning, as his eyes drifted over to the Ravenclaw table where Fleur sat with the rest of the Beauxbatons contingent. As if feeling his eyes on her, she looked up, their eyes meeting across the Great Hall, and Katie followed his line of sight, her lips quirking into a teasing grin when she saw Fleur wink at him with a suggestive smirk.
"Yep," she whispered, making Harry glance at her out of the corner of his eyes. "You've got to introduce us."
"You know you can be as candid with me as you want, right?" He asked with an insinuating grin on his face that only made Katie's smirk widen.
"I'd rather show than tell," she replied.
All he could do was chuckle at that.
-Break-
As the Great Hall began to empty once the students were done with their breakfast, Harry spotted Neville sitting with Ginny and a few of her friends at their house table. He glanced at Katie and nodded before getting up and walking over to the group.
One of Ginny's friends spotted him and a faint blush colored her cheeks as he got closer.
"Hey Nev, Gin," he greeted, easily sliding into the seat beside him.
"Ah, Harry," Neville greeted with a shaky smile. "Good morning. Congrats on getting first place yesterday."
"Thanks," Harry replied, nodding at the others when they echoed the same. He saw one of the girls nearby, a brunette with rather attractive features, eyeing him as she feigned interest in her toast. The suggestive gestures, from how her tongue darted out to how she slowly nibbled on the bread were not lost on him and all he did was grace her with a smirk. The girl's eyes widened and he saw how her grasp on the toast tightened, and he had to stifle a chuckle at that. She could not believe he had personally responded to her like that.
Turning back to Neville and Ginny who looked much better than how he'd found them before in the library, he smiled.
"Looks like things are going pretty well, hmm?"
As if knowing what he was talking about, both he and Ginny blushed slightly, the memories of the show he and Katie had put on for them still fresh in their minds. They had not approached either him or Katie for a repeat, and Harry believed they had gotten enough study materials to proceed on their own. It was disappointing in a way, as he knew how much Katie had loved it, but it was not as if he could force the two for another session or a few.
"Y-Yeah," Neville replied a bit nervously, exchanging a glance with Ginny.
'Or maybe not,' Harry thought, eyeing them keenly.
"It's just…" Neville began, and Harry could feel that the lad was nervous. Looking around, he saw the other girls staring at him curiously, and he turned to Ginny who bit her lower lip and averted her eyes.
"Why don't we talk as we walk, eh?" Harry suggested, and before Neville could reply, he got out of his seat and hauled him out of his. Glancing over his shoulder at Katie, he subtly gestured toward Ginny with his eyes. The brunette got the message instantly and she gave him a nod, watching as he and Neville walked out of the Great Hall.
Finally, on their own, Harry and Neville began making their way over to the Grand Staircase.
"It's about you and Ginny?" Harry asked without preamble, taking Neville by surprise. The boy glanced around at students passing them by, most of whom openly stared at Harry. He ignored them and glanced at Neville out of the corner of his eyes. "Well?"
Neville looked undecided for a moment before he nodded with a sigh.
"You can be open with me, you know that, right?" Harry asked supportively.
"It's embarrassing, mate," Neville chuckled nervously.
"Oh I'm sure it is," Harry replied with an understanding nod. "But don't you think after what you two saw last time, you should be less embarrassing around me and Katie?"
"I guess…" Neville replied, still looking decidedly uncertain.
"Look, Nev," Harry began with a sigh. "If it's a repeat you two want, then you can just say it. There's no need to be so skittish about it. If you don't know, Katie loved it. It's a kink of hers, shall I say, as I'm sure you two must've figured out already."
Neville nodded shyly, his cheeks burning. Harry found his reaction genuinely amusing.
"Yeah, so if you two want a repeat to get some more pointers, just ask for it, mate. There's no harm in asking, is there?"
"It's not exactly that, Harry," Neville said slowly, his voice full of hesitation. "It's… well… Ginny and I did what you and Katie told us to—"
"More like showed," Harry interjected with a chuckle. He swung an arm around Neville's neck and squeezed. "Come on, mate. Relax a bit, will you?"
Neville shook his head as they walked off the staircase toward the Gryffindor Tower.
"Yeah, that," he muttered. "And it was good, I'm not gonna lie."
"Just good?" Harry teased even more, smirking.
"Okay, it was better than anything," Neville replied with an embarrassed chuckle. "But uh… well… how do I say it…"
"Just out with it, Nev," Harry rolled his eyes.
"Ginny wants to do it," Neville blurted out. Sighing, he continued, "She said she is ready, and well… I am too, but—"
"But you're afraid of a repeat," Harry surmised. "Understandable."
"Listen, Harry… I know Katie likes it and all, but it's still embarrassing to ask like this, so could you… well…"
"Go and grab your bag, Nev," Harry chuckled. "We'll meet in the same place tonight. An hour after dinner should be good."
Neville gave him a nervous smile before he gave him a shaky yet thankful nod. Harry watched on with a small smile as the boy bolted through the door to their common room and with a small shake of his head, he followed behind him at a sedate pace.
Neville was slowly gaining confidence. There were no doubts about it. Earlier, he wouldn't have been able to form even a sentence but now, even though he was immensely hesitant, he could at least tell him what he wanted. That was massive progress for someone like him. Still, Harry felt as if he should help the boy come out of his shell even more. He knew Neville was a capable person, and for him to grow into the man Ginny deserved in her life, he had to do away with his shaky personality.
As he followed Neville into their dormitory and saw him chucking various books and other items of stationery into his bag, he walked over and picked up his Potions book, shrinking and putting it in his pocket.
"You're going to class today?" Neville asked in surprise, and Harry nodded.
"It's been a while. I better go or I'll forget what being in a classroom feels like," Harry replied with a smile. "With the task done, I have some time to kill."
"Still, choosing to attend P-Professor Snape's class, Harry?"
Harry smirked to himself. Snape was Neville's boggart, which went a long way to telling him just how terrified the poor lad was of the resident dungeon bat.
"I find myself missing his dour personality, Nev," Harry replied as he walked over and slung an arm over his shoulders, dragging him along. "Now let's get going. The bastard's going to be livid when he sees me. Better not waste the class' time more than necessary, eh?"
Neville could only smile nervously in response.
-Break-
Contrary to what many of his friends and acquaintances believed, Harry did not hate potions. Sure, it did not involve much of the 'foolish wand-waving' or 'silly incantations' that other subjects did, but he found the subject interesting. Mostly because one did not need to be a witch or a wizard to brew a potion. Even a squib or a muggle could do it with the ingredients and by following the right process.
No, the reason people believed he absolutely despised potions was because of the man teaching the subject.
Severus Snape—the man who Harry sometimes felt hated him more than fucking Voldemort himself.
Harry and Snape had never gotten along, and Harry firmly believed it was because of the older man's vendetta with him. He had not even known the man when he had started to publicly target him for seemingly nothing. The only inference Harry could draw from their first interaction was that Snape hated his unwanted fame, which made him look like a jealous bastard more than anything else. Furthermore, targeting a literal child like that in the first meeting did not do him any favors.
It had not taken long for him to realize that Snape was simply an asshole, and it was just that. There was indeed some targeting involved with him but overall, Snape was just a cunt. It would not be an exaggeration to say that if given a choice between drinking a goblin's piss and shaking Snape's hand, Harry would ask the goblin for seconds. And he was sure Snape felt the same.
The Potions class was not entirely full by the time they arrived, and it felt as if the classroom had transformed into a graveyard, not that it needed much work to look like it. Put some grave markings around and the room would look like an underground mausoleum of a dark pureblood family, complete with an alive dungeon bat glowering at him from his spot at the front and center.
Harry silently dared the man to speak up as he entered the classroom with Neville by his side, and he was slightly disappointed when no taunts came his way. Instead, Snape turned around and walked inside his office.
Was the bat finally learning some manners? The thought amused him as he glanced around.
At the sight of him, the classroom had fallen into silence. Harry saw Parvati and Lavender freeze mid-giggle upon spotting him, their eyes widening as if he'd walked in while they were having a particularly scandalous bit of gossip session. Meanwhile, Seamus and Dean were sitting right behind the two girls, their eyes trained on him.
"Blimey, thought he'd given up on classes long ago," the Irish wizard muttered quietly, but Harry heard the edge in his tone clearly enough.
Ignoring him and the others staring at him, Harry walked in with Neville, and to the surprise of everyone present, he led the way to the Slytherin section of the classroom where a certain pair of beauties sat. He pretended not to notice the surprised looks or raised eyebrows directed his way.
The two Slytherin girls looked up, their eyes locking with Harry's, and as one, their lips curled into the barest hint of amusement.
"Miss Greengrass, Miss Davis, mind if we sit here?" Harry asked politely to keep up appearances, even though his eyes wandered over their bodies. Merlin, he couldn't help himself when he was with them.
Daphne arched a delicate brow as she scooted slightly to the side, making room for Harry. "Brave of you, Potter," she remarked just loud enough for most of the classroom to hear, not that it required any effort. "Abandoning the Lions for the vipers. What would your dear friends say?"
Tracey smirked as she leaned forward, her elbows resting on the desk. "Maybe he's finally come to his senses and realized which side has better company."
Harry slid into the seat without hesitation, casually resting an arm on the table as he tilted his head toward them. "Better company, better looks, and better brains. Can you really blame me?"
Daphne's lips twitched, her ice-blue eyes gleaming with barely concealed amusement. "Flattery, Potter? Careful, or we might start thinking you enjoy our presence more than you should."
Harry leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Oh, but I do. And you know just how much."
Daphne flushed brilliantly but she was quick to school her features. Meanwhile, Tracey let out a soft chuckle, flicking a strand of hair over her shoulder. "Careful, Potter. If you keep this up, we'll have to start fighting over you."
"Now wouldn't that be a sight?" Harry smirked, eyeing them meaningfully. The two beauties gave him smoldering looks and Daphne even grabbed his thigh out of everyone's sight. Harry's smirk widened.
Tracey's eyes fell on a bewildered Neville still standing and she snorted. "Relax, Longbottom. And grab a seat, will you? We don't bite, unless our man wants us to," she smirked, making Harry roll his eyes. "Just don't melt any cauldrons here, yeah?"
Neville's face flushed brilliantly and Harry calmly pulled him into his seat. "Just relax, Nev."
Their exchange wasn't lost on the other students. Whispers spread like wildfire, Gryffindors and Slytherins alike exchanging bewildered glances. It was one thing for Potter to be civil with a Slytherin—it was another for him to be outright friendly with them.
Ron's ears burned crimson as he slumped into his usual seat beside Hermione, his eyes darting from Harry to the Slytherin girls with unhidden disgust. Meanwhile, the resident bookworm had her face buried in Magical Draughts and Potions, although her knuckles were white as she gripped the desk hard.
"He's really getting chummy with them?" Ron hissed under his breath. "Next he'll be singing along with Malfoy of all people."
Hermione's reply was clipped. "Perhaps if we'd bothered to stay close to him all these years, it wouldn't have come to this."
"Oh, right, because we're the ones who—"
There was a sudden scrape of wood on the floor that silenced Ron and he looked up. Draco Malfoy sauntered in, with Parkinson hanging off his arm like the tool she was, and his two gorilla bodyguards Crabbe and Goyle flanking them. The pompous peacock's smirk faltered the moment his eyes fell on Harry who was busy flirting with his lovely girls while Neville sat, flabbergasted.
His expression twisted into one of outrage, and he marched over, coming to a stop right beside Neville whose eyes widened when he saw Malfoy's glare. His cronies—Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle—all had matching glares on their faces, and the entire classroom seemed to be watching with bated breaths as they saw the golden opportunity Malfoy had to stir up trouble.
However, just as Malfoy opened his mouth, Harry glanced over, his gaze calm and unbothered. The memory of the first task of the tournament flashed through his mind, and a shiver ran down his spine. He parted his lips slightly, but no sound came out.
Harry quirked an eyebrow, waiting. Daring him to put his foot in his mouth.
Malfoy's fingers clenched into fists. He could feel the expectant stares of his housemates, waiting for him to put Potter in his place. However, something deep in his gut twisted—something that shouted at him that he shouldn't do it.
The realization that he was truly, genuinely scared had him scurrying away with his tail tucked between his legs, and Harry smirked.
'Cowardice suits him,' he thought, watching Malfoy march over to the furthest table. Pansy's simpering followed him but it dissolved into a confused frown when Malfoy brushed her away. She turned to glare at Harry, only to be met with an unimpressed stare. The brunette sneered and turned away.
"Looks like the ferret lost his bite," Daphne whispered, her hand still caressing Harry's thigh under the table.
"Shame," Harry replied with a smirk, his eyes on her hand that kept climbing higher with each stroke. "I would've loved to hex him into next week. If only he'd tried something…"
"Language, Potter," came Snape's silken drawl as he swept into the room, his robes billowing behind him as usual. "Ten points from Gryffindor for… crude fantasizing."
'Apparently not,' Harry thought to himself with a sigh as he eyed Snape.
"Well, Professor," he drawled as well, "we were just discussing the ethical uses of hexes and curses in self-defense. A… theoretical discussion, of course."
Snape's glare intensified, his disdain for him apparent for all to see. "How… noble of you, Potter. Tell me, does your sudden return to academia stem from a desire to impress your adoring fans? Or have you finally realized even a celebrity cannot survive on incompetence alone?"
"Neither," Harry said, taking Daphne's hand and placing it right on top of his groin. The blonde's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before she went to work, quickly unzipping his trousers and fishing his cock out. Harry stifled a groan of approval when her hand wrapped around his girth and she began to stroke him. Still eyeing Snape who was the biggest erection-killer in existence, he continued, "I missed your charming personality."
A stifled snicker rippled through the classroom as Snape's nostrils flared. He looked like he would retort but seemed to think better of it. His black eyes glittered dangerously as he eyed Harry.
"Another five points for your cheek. Now, today we will be brewing the Draught of Peace—a potion that, ironically, I find myself in desperate need of whenever you're present in my classroom."
A few students sniggered, but Harry maintained his composure while Daphne kept working him up under the desk. "Maybe that says more about your emotional control than my presence, Professor. I suggest you ramp up your Occlumency practices. Those would help."
The class held its collective breath and Neville looked ready to faint.
"The instructions," Snape continued through gritted teeth, clearly fighting the urge to escalate things, "are on the board. You will work in groups of four. And Longbottom—" his lips curled into a cruel smile, "—try not to blow up your cauldron this time. Although with Potter as your partner, I wouldn't be surprised if the entire classroom ends up in flames." Before Harry could retort, Snape continued, "If any of you dunderheads manage to botch this, you should reconsider your life choices."
The class immediately scrambled into action and Harry quickly sent Neville over to gather the ingredients with Tracey accompanying him. She gave Harry and Daphne a meaningful glance though, as if saying she wanted her turn soon enough.
The moment more than half of the students went away, Daphne intensified her ministrations. Her hand began to move up and down on his cock in long, rough strokes, and it did not take long for her thumb to join in. She smeared his precum all over the crown of his cock and discreetly leaned over, dropping a thick glob of spit right over his manhood.
"That's a good girl," Harry praised quietly as he prepared their station while Daphne helped him out with her other hand. His cock was slick with her saliva and his precum and Daphne's hand moved wildly as she jerked him off.
"You close, hmm?" She whispered, her hand shaking as she put another cauldron on the desk.
"Almost there," Harry grunted.
Daphne made a show of dropping a ladle and bent down to pick it up, and as she quickly grabbed it, she shoved the entirety of his length deep inside her mouth.
Harry almost groaned aloud and it was only his firm grip on the desk that prevented him from giving it away. Daphne moved wildly, furiously sucking him off. Her tongue rolled all over his cock, splashing it with her hot, wet saliva and sloshing her tongue around his girth as she plunged her mouth over and over onto his prick, taking him deeper and deeper with each thrust until she had him buried deep within her throat.
"Fuck, Daph," Harry grunted softly, his Occlumency working in overdrive to keep his face and his hands as calm as he could manage. He could feel himself almost ready to erupt and Daphne sensed it as well. With both hands, she engaged him, stroking his length hard and fast with one while fondling his balls with the other. Her tongue kept swirling around the head of his cock as she kept her lips wrapped tightly around him.
With a soft grunt, Harry came, and Daphne eagerly gulped every drop of his seed that he shot inside her mouth. She kept gulping as he ejaculated, her throat bobbing and her hands firmly stroking him to completion.
Finally, he released a deep breath, utterly spent, and as he gazed down, he saw her watching him with a pleased grin. Opening her mouth, she showed him the final vestiges of his cum before she swallowed it eagerly. The sight was so erotic that Harry almost gave up on all pretenses and was ready to bend her over and take her in full view of everyone. It was only his Occlumency that made him stay in control of his actions.
As Harry did the final work on their station, Daphne fixed his clothes and made sure she looked as prim and proper as she always did. Once she was sure nothing was amiss, she emerged from under the desk with no one being the wiser.
Both Harry and Daphne exchanged subtle mischievous grins as they waited for Neville and Tracey whom they spotted at the front of the classroom, both carrying the ingredients they needed for the Draught of Peace.
The brunette eyed them both with a small quirk on her lips as she and Neville deposited their ingredients on the large table. Their eyes met, and Harry gave her a subtle nod. Mollified, Tracey joined Daphne as Neville took his place on his left.
"Alright, Nev, you handle the bases. Greengrass, Davis, you two take care of the grinding and preparation. I'll handle the sequencing."
Neville gulped, his fingers already twitching nervously. "I—I don't know, Harry. P-Professor Snape—"
"—is an overgrown git," Harry finished smoothly. "Ignore him. Focus on the potion. You've got this."
Neville hesitated, but at Harry's steady gaze, he finally nodded.
Minutes passed as they worked, the bubbling cauldrons filling the room with the distinct scent of brewing potions. Harry, however, made small modifications to their process—adjusting stirring times and swapping minor ingredients for better efficiency. It wasn't long before Snape loomed over them, his beady eyes narrowing at Harry's work. Unfortunately, Neville's hands shook right then as he was adding powdered moonstone, nearly dusting the table instead of the cauldron.
"Remarkable, Longbottom," he hissed. "Even a troll possesses more finesse."
Harry stepped in, guiding Neville's wrist. "Sprinkle it from higher up—lets it disperse evenly. And breathe, Neville. It's not one of Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts."
"Potter," Snape drawled, his voice dripping with derision. "The recipe specifies three clockwise stirs after adding the quills. Yet you're stirring… counterclockwise."
"It does," Harry agreed. "But reversing the direction after the seventh stir neutralizes the quills' volatility. Cuts brewing time by ten minutes. Feel free to test the potency if you want."
"No one asked you to put your wits to test, Potter. It seems you're incapable of following even the simplest of instructions," Snape sneered.
Harry glanced up, utterly unfazed. "Only when the instructions are subpar. As you can see, I made a few improvements."
Snape sneered. "Improvements? And what, pray tell, makes you qualified to experiment in my classroom?"
"Knowledge, for one," Harry replied and gestured to their cauldron, where their potion was developing a rich, ideal color—far superior to the others in the room. "And the results."
Snape's nostrils flared. "Your arrogance truly knows no bounds, Potter. The recipe in your textbook has been refined over centuries."
"And yet," Harry replied, already beginning to put the finishing touch, "innovation shouldn't stop just because something is old. Unless you're suggesting that wizarding knowledge reached its peak centuries ago and we should never try to improve upon existing methods?"
Several students, including some Slytherins, looked thoughtful at this. Hermione, despite herself, found she agreed with Harry's logic, even as she disapproved of his confrontational behavior with a professor.
Snape's nostrils flared as he eyed Harry. "You better hope your reckless shortcuts don't cause the potion to fail, Potter. I don't want your idiocy hurting other students' grades."
Harry smirked. "If it fails, then you're free to grade it accordingly when it's done. Though, of course, that means Miss Greengrass and Miss Davis will suffer as well. I'm sure their parents would be... disappointed."
Daphne and Tracey tried their best to look affronted, though the barest hint of a smirk tugged at their lips as they kept working without glancing at them.
Snape's lips pressed into a thin line. He turned on his heel and stalked off, his robes snapping behind him like an irritated crow.
Harry exhaled through his nose, smirking. "Well, that went well."
Tracey chuckled. "You just played him at his own game."
Daphne smirked. "And he knows it."
As Harry chuckled, Neville swallowed hard, but for the first time, his grip on his ladle didn't shake.