The Tenth Rule

It couldn\'t have happened at a worse moment. She sneezed. So unexpected she didn\'t have the time to move the small spatula away from her. Instead of the powdered bald-headed eagle\'s tendon being slowly stirred into the gently simmering potion, the whole lot fell in, in one powdered mass. A huge ball of flame exploded within the cauldron rendering the carefully prepared solution useless. A thin, though acrid ten of of smoke curled lazily from the pot.



Every student in the class looked up and froze, not least of all Alice; every one of their expressions identical...shocked horror, not from the mishap but the expected reaction from the Potions Master, Professor Snape.



Whilst in every class mistakes or errors were made, expected and accepted - after all it was a school - mistakes or errors were not tolerated nor accepted in Professor Snape\'s class.



When Alice and Bethany firsfirst arrived at Hogwarts, they had not believed the tales they had been told about the greatly feared Potions Master. They had dismissed it as typical scare mongering, the older students pranks, teasing the new kids, trying to scarem. em. However they only refused to believe it until they first saw him and had their first class with him.



Their first sighting of Snape had been during the introductions and sortings in the Great Hall, and then to see him glong fng from the end of the upper table at the meal a little later. The following day they had their first lesson, and as with all the students, before and after, he made a lasting, terrifying impression.



Since that day, and as with any class, terror of the fearsomely strict Professor Snape created a frightened tension amongst all the students, so that in most cases, their desperation not to fail caused them to make mistakes. Lessons with him were always demanding and arduous, not to mention extremely stressful on the nerves.



Professor Snape, who had at that moment been at the other end of the classroom, swept to Alice\'s and Bethany\'s bench in seconds. The tall man moved with speed and a silent elegant grace, the impression enhanced by the great black robe he wore over his black clothes that billowed like sails behind him.



\"Miss Pearson.\"



The Potion master\'s voice was as unique as the man himself. Ore ore occasions it could be bewitchingly melodious, hypnotic, mesmerising, soothing and calming, silk and warmed black velvet, however, more often than not, that same voice could be hard, scathing, ridiculing, verbally cutting down trembling students, slicing away at their crumbling confidence with the lethal dexterity and delicacy of a surgeon with a scalpel.



He very rarely neede rai raise his voice in anger or to scold; its pitch and dely hay had more impact than someone screaming or bellowing. And such was Snape\'s voice now...low, hard, terse and clipped.



\"Miss Pearson, having effectively destroyed what amounts to almost two hours of painstaking work, not to mention wasting extremely rare and expensive ingredients, and my time...why am I addressing the top of your head; look at me when I speak to you!\" Professor Snape’s voice had become increasingly irritated.



Alice slowly looked up. All that was before her was black. Black, black, black; the broad expanse of his tightly buttoned frock coat, the voluminous folds of his robes. Just a narrow band of white at the cuffs and the narrow ruff at the high collar of his coat was the only relief from all that intimidating black. Finally, she looked up to his face, and she felt herself swallowing at a dry throat.



Professor Snape could notdescdescribed a handsome man in the classical sense though he possessed arresting features that captivated all that looked upon him.

He had hair as black as his robes and glistened, not from grease as was often cruelly bantered by the students all of whom dreaded the man. Making unkind statements about his physical appearance and his dour demeanour was the only revenge the students could take on the man, though all insults were made well out of earshot of the Potions Master. The shine was int upt upon closer proximity its healthy quality. It hung loose in no distinguishable style whatsoever, the slightly upturned ends brushing the collar of his robes.



He possessed a long face with strong and dominant features, a large hooked nose, and a mouth that was either constantly compressed in a disapproving line or curling with a vicious sneer.



But it was his eyes, the eyes that arrested the most, and had always frightened Alice. Alice had always had an irrational fear of heights, anofesofessor Snape’s eyes instilled that very same sensation; they unnerved her, and whenever she had the rare misfortune to have his close and undivided attention, as now, that chilling, stomach churning fear roiled in her stomach when she looked into those eyes. The iris appeared as black as pitch, so black even the pupil was impossible to discern. His eyes made her think of bottomless wells and Alice looking at him, felt as though she were standing on the very precipice of a frighteningly endless abyss. Heart thumping, palms sweaty, stomach feeling as though it were turning to water; those were the experiences she suffered, and why she always found it difficult to look into his eyes.



\"Excuse me Professor Snape, but she sneezed, it was an accident,\" spoke Bethany hesitantly, aware that her friend was immobilised and speechless with fear, and though she herself was afraid to speak up, her need to protect Alice from the vicious verbal humiliation that he was sure to deliver to her, was the greater. The grateful glance of appreciation she saw from Alice out of cor corner of her eye was ample reward for what was sure to come now. The look Snape cast her was venomous.



\"Miss Beddows.\" Each word was precise, perfectly enunciated, and succinctly sardonic. \"I do not recall requesting you to speak, or even addressing you for tmattmatter.\"



Bethany admired and respected all her teachers highly, including Professor Snape, but this man scared her as well. She had always found it difficult to speak to him and had always avoided doing so.



\"I...I just thought you would like to know how this accident happened.\" She added, annoyed with herself that her voice sounded so weak.



\"Having observed the way you two have been constantly chattering to each other throughout the lesson, Miss Pearson, I know is perfectly capable of the power of speech and able to explain for herself. Ten points from Ravenclaw for your uninvited interference.\"



Bethany\'s jaw dropped open, ready to complain but stopped herself. It would do no good to argue any injustice with Snape. She looked down at the bench, not wanting to reveal the anger she felt towards him in her eyes.



\"Miss Pearson.\" Snape returned his full attention to Alice, \"Are you that dim-witted that despite the years in my class, you are incapable of observing even the most basic rule of administering ingredients to potions?\"



Poor Alice\'s mouth worked but her voice had deserted her, her throat dry with fear.



\"Well?\" He demanded loudly, leaning towards her, his face hard, eyes glittering cruelly.

Alice was totally overwhelmed by his proximity. She shook her head, fighting back a sudden inexplicable urge to want to cry. She had a bad week one way or another and this humiliation and ridicule by this horrible man was about the limit.



\"Go to the front of my desk and face the class, and recite the first ten basic rules of Potion Making,\" he snapped.



Professor Snape moved to one side to let her pass him. For a moment she stood there, her legs unable to move. Bethany at that moment hated him more than anyone she had ever hated in her life. He was a cruel man who very cleverly, quickly recognised and preyed on every single student\'s emotional and psychological weakness, and used it against them as punishment. Alice; a shy, quiet, retiring girl hated an audience and to have to speak before the class, having been humiliated in front of them, was even worse. Bethany could sense there were many there that were spiteful enough to grin and relish her discomfort, her shame and embarrassment, which would make the ordeal ten times worse, most of them Bethany noticed were her own housemates from Slytherin.



Professor Snape grasped the edges of his robe and folded his arms, the heavy black cloth enveloping him as he remained at the bench Alice and Bethany had been working at.



\"We haven\'t all day Miss Pearson,\" he stated coldly.



Alice managed to move, her step slow, but she tried to hold her head up whilst her mind frantically tried to recall the rules. One by one they popped into her head, but fled the moment she approached his desk and then turned to face the class. Alice swallowed dryly and thought again.



\"The first rule is…. never leave a cauldron unattended when in the process of making a potion.\"



That one came from nowhere and her own voice surprised her as the answer sprang forth from her lips.



\"Correct.\" Snape said, his eyes glinting, enigmatic. It was obvious he was waiting, poised to make a verbal kill at the slightest error.



When she tried to voluntarily think of the rules, they would not come, but she found when she cleared her mind and ignored the looming malevolence of her Professor, it was much easier.

\"The second rule is…. follow instructions thorou unl unless you expect disastrous results.\"



\"Hmm. Correct again. Perhaps you do harbour a little intelligence after all.\" His triumph over her nerves was evident so far and Alice hated him for it. Some of her fellow classmates laughed at his little dig. She ignored him and looked at Bethany instead whose brown eyes were dark with worry. She knew the next three were always bound together so that would be easy enough; that would be five down and five to go. Half way through.



\"Three; fresh ingredients unless stated otherwise, Four; ingredients of quality, Five; ingredients must be prepared with care and attention to detail.\"



Her eyes met his at last, hers like frozen lakes, actually bearing some degree of spite straight into his of cobsiobsidian. He didn’t flinch but she could see a tiny, almost insignificant little muscle tugging gently with irritation at the corner of his mouth. He won the staring competition as expected soon enough, he creeped het aft after too long.



\"Six; stir to the rhythm instructed, be it either of heartbeat or tide.\"



He raised his dark right eyebrow. Not many student’s remembered that one; most preferring to go at potion stirring with the gusto of a starving man preparing porridge. Most accidents happened this way when the dunderheads weren’t adding the wrong ingredients in the first place. And some student’s parents had the audacity to complain to him at parent-teacher evenings about the state of their beloved offspring’s robes as the result of corrosive compounds.



Snape would do his usual thing for the reply; suppressing the craving to cast an unforgivable curse and instead hissing that if their child hadn’t been throwing the stuff willy-nilly into their cauldron before beating the hell out of it with their ladle then maybe they wouldn’t have huge scorch marks all down the front of their expensive uniform. Then he would tell them in that calm, controlled arctic winter of a voice that he could tell that in this case he would have to apologise as he could see now that the child’s stupidity could not be helped, as it was so obviously hereditary.





\"Continue.\" He ordered after several long seconds of silence.



\"Seven; personal experiments to be done in private, no adventure’s in concoction to be shared with other’s.\"



\"Yes indeed, an important rule which today you have broken, pay attention to this one if you know it so well.\"



\"I sneezed Sir, I didn’t intend to have the accident. It was certainly not on purpose.\" Alice blurted.



\"You were requested to recite the ten rules of potion making Miss Pearson, not your lame excuses, so I urge you to proceed with them quickly unless you wish detention with Filch later for the infirmary’s bedpan cleaning. I understand several students have recently been admitted with particularly unpleasant stomach upsets.\" he stated coolly.



There was a sudden eruption of giggling and sniggering at the Professor\'s implication, and the humiliation of the girl. Snape slowly moved his head, glancing at the students…



\" Silen" He" He warned menacingly, and immediately the command was obeyed.

The entire class was focused on her, but she could only see two people; Bethany who was like a little light in the middle of the dungeon burning with hope and encouragement, reminding her with pure presencat tat the lesson wouldn’t go on forever no matter how she felt, and him, that sadistic bastard.



\"Rule Eight;\" she said in her most acidic tone, glad to feel her anger surface and she fed from that to give her further strength to get through this. \"Brew not for selfish means, unless you wish to suffer via the unwritten laws of Wizardry.\"



\"Almost there Miss Pearson,\" he said. Despite the fact she was nearly done, she felt his smugness, he had no faith in her ability whatsoever.



\"Nine; Equipment must be cared for if you wish to reap successful results for years to come. They are the most important tools in Wizardry.\"



This was the moment of truth. Somewhere in the distance, Alice could hear the bell signalling the end of class and the end of the day’s lesson. But as usual, as was the tradition of fear in Snape’s dungeon, no one dared to move a muscle, staying jammed in their seats. Nobody left his lesson unless told to do so, not unless they wished to be in detention’s of a most unpleasant nature for the rest of their school life.



What the hell was the last one? Alice really was having trouble now. She looked with soft pleading in her eyes to Bethany, who she could tell from her disadvantage at the front of the class, had no idea either. There was an open textbook right in front of her on a desk. The answer was there, on page 780, the last page of the book, the one everyone knew because it had those blasted rules in navy ink on yellow parchment. She stared at the textbook with hate. How dare it know such vital information. How dare she forget it!

Seconds ticked by, her head began to ache as she concentrated so hard on trying to recall the tenth rule. Suddenly, it was there.



\"Rule ten; potion making is an art; so for those who find it impossible to master, do not lose faith as there are many other fields of magic where talent waits to be reaped.\" She said the last one with a great air of confidence. It had popped into her head surfing a great wave of relief. She liked this rule, because it made all of Snape’s derogatory insults and condescension’s pointless. It was for all of those who would never have a hope of shutting that snarky Snape up. It was for those who lost faith during their agonising potions lessons when insulted and degraded. They could always sneak a look to page 780 and have a private victory over him. The rules spoke more and had much more authority than the Master of the subject ever would.



Her gaze returned to his finally and she allowed herself the smallest smile of triumph. He looked incredibly sour at her achievement.



\"Very well, Miss Pearson, it is with relief you have managed to console me that I waste only 99% of my time trying to teach you rather than a 100%. Class dismissed,\" he said. Alice ran back to her desk ignoring his cruel jibe.



Snape sneered to himself. Stupid little bitch. She may have achieved a minuscule victory but he would remember and next time his position allowed it, he would maer ser suffer. She would not get away with it. No student ever left his dungeon victorious over him. Be it the smallest personal achievement or the biggest act of obvious belittlement. He had made her stand at the front of the class to be humiliated, but now it was his pride bruised, not hers.



He took his place at the desk at the very top heights of the dungeon and thrust his quill into the inkwell to make it look as though he was a very busy man and he had lots of life-or-death decisions to make. In reality, he was scrawling furiously. He was rather annoyed with himself that he let such petty nonsense aggravate him so; but his years of teaching these ungrateful students that really did not understand the art, beauty and complexity of potion making seemed to erode his patience more and more each year.



Bethany was so relieved she actually greeted her friend with a hug as the rest of the class bustled out, the suppressed noise and tomfoolery during the class finally erupting into the chilled corridor outside.



For a split second, the worst, most dangerous second, Snape looked up with one burning, hateful eye to pierce Alice with one final resentful stare before she retreated to her dorms for the weekend. Bethany, in her infinite happiness, clasped her slender blonde friend hard. Both girls laughed, embarrassed by their overreaction to their joy and replaced by the joy of temporal success for the time being. Their expression of affection struck him. The instant defence mechanism he had forcibly installed many years prior snapped into action; reminding himself of both his age and official position in connection to them. But even he had felt the crackling electricity from right across the dungeon. He watched in surprise, both girls blushing bright crimson and stuffing their books into their satchels, laughing and avoiding eye contact. Alice and Bethany…lesbians? No…he had never even slightly picked up on it. They were close, very close, but girls and their best friends are at that age, silly, giggly and overly affectionate. He hardened his face again and glared.



Before he had the chance to shout and tell them to get out of the claom, om, they had already gone, leaving the door wide open. He snarled to himself, furious that he now had to both get up to slam the doors shut so he could begin to mark papers in peace and quiet, and because now he had his attention drawn to the unwanted fact he was regarding them as not just students, but two young teenage girls. With determination, he again quickly shut down the dark thoughts and urges of years past before they began to surface.



He got up and headed for the doors.



Bethany was still squealing with delight outside. Alice had needed to stop and rest for a moment against the cold stonewall of the corridor outside, too shaky and relieved to run straight off to her dormitory. Bethany was liberated in her actions and speech. She was giddy with excitement.



\"Alice, you are officially the coolest person in the world!\" she sang.



\"I didn’t think I would remember one of them, let alone all ten,\" the blonde replied, still blushing bright.



Both girls were high from the victory. Alice had made their hated Potions Master look the truly petty, spiteful and vindictive creature that he was and she had done it with grace and confidence; attributes not usually linked to Alice Pearson. Alice had killed two birds with one stone that day; she had mocked Snape, thus earning the respect of her fellow classmates no doubt. Things would not be the same now.



\"You were brilliant, Alice, I am so jealous, everyone’s going to think you’re fantastic. Such bravery, where on earth did it come from? I’ve never seen anything like it! He didn’t even bite back, you truly stumped him!\"



Alice pulled herself up from her lean against the wall and let her mouth split into a huge smug grin.



\"Rule eleven; don’t be such a greasy-haired, malicious little Potions Master or Alice Pearson will slay you!\" she laughed merrily.



Their eyes danced over one another; giddy with triumph exciexcitement.



\"Tsk, tsk, tsk, Eleventh Rule indeed.\" The caustic resonance behind them could mean only one thing.



\"You know there is no such thing Miss Pearson. Now stop loitering within the corridors and get about your business.\"



Snape had been standing there listening to them at the door all along.

Alice turned slowly and looked to confirm her fear. Both girls stood frozen to the spot, flaming with embarrassment, all smugness quickly burning out and smoking with shame instead.



\"We’re sorry, Professor Snape.\" Bethany said quietly, not knowing whether her apology would be appreciated or not.



He didn’t appear terribly furious, not compared to how he had looked in the dungeon anyway. Unless this was a new and improved, freshly developed malice he had been saving for such an occasion. Quiet rage to mislead the prey into a false sense of security so the verbal attack would have more of an impaSomeSometimes, Bethany wished he would just beat people with a stick instead of the impossibly degrading mental games he played, at least you would have some idea of what to expect and the pain would heal a lot, lot quicker. Snape’s scathing attacks left bruises on the soul that many never really got over. Physical damage would only need a quick visit to the infirmary.



\"I\'m sure you are sorry, Miss Beddows. Those of infinite stupidity and fool’s confidence usually are when they are caught off guard.\"



There was nothing left for the girls to say. An apology had been offered after all and it was hardly as though they were going to get down and kiss his highly polished boots. One thing was for sure however; Alice’s triumph had suffered a premature deatr />r />


\"Now go,\" he said, his voice chilling.



\"Uh, yes Sir,\" she said. Alice was waiting for the trick. He could not be simply sending them away after catching her insulting and mocking him like that, could he? They watched him hesitantly, waiting for the mantrap to snap its maws closed around them. He simply gestured with his pale hand that they go.



Alice and Bethany hurriedly walked away in embarrassed silence and more than a little relieved they had got off so lightly! Snape simply returned to the classroom, shutting the doors behind him.