Star Sisters

Chapter II: How to Approach the Potions Master

Charis and Morgana began their mission in earnest, by seeking to impress the Potions master with their skill and knowledge. However, if there had ever been a man who wasn’t easily impressed, it was Severus Snape. The girls worked hard and assiduously, and the combination of Ravenclaw brilliancy and Slytherin cunning earned them the highest grades in Potions. But a word of praise from their teacher, there was none.

Not that they had ever expected any praise. The teacher in question was, after all, Severus Snape, and the day he would praise a student would surely be the day when Hades froze over. But working their butts off and not getting anything in return started to become frustrating. Both Charis and Morgana had thought Snape would value intelligence in a woman, and being girls of considerable talents, they studied diligently and mastered their potions to perfection in the hope they would receive, if not praise, then at least a keener interest in them and their work. Snape, however, much to their disappointment and frustration, did not treat them any differently.

By the middle of October, Morgana had decided to change her tactics. She had not been sorted into Slytherin for nothing, and she would get what she wanted, at any cost.

‘I’m going to get myself put in detention,’ she announced one evening when she and Charis were studying in the library.

‘Detention? Are you out of your mind? You have never had detention.’ Charis couldn’t believe it. It was one thing to get the attention of their Potions master by behaving well, but risking his wrath with detention? She had always thought she would rather clean out Hagrid’s Blast-Ended Skrewts than be on the receiving end of one of Snape’s notorious bad moods.

‘Hey, I am not going for the Most Righteous Student Award here,’ Morgana snapped. She was not in the mood for Charis’ justified – but still annoying – advice.

‘Snape is not noticing us when we are being nice,’ she continued, ‘so maybe he will notice us when we go bad. And you know what they say about good witches going to heaven and bad witches going anywhere they want.’

Charis started chewing her lip. Her record was spotless, and she was proud of that. Getting detention wasn’t very high up on her priority list. But then again, this was about getting close to Severus Snape. And that was certainly worth getting into trouble for.

‘But you might end up with Umbridge,’ she pointed out.

Umbridge. Both of the girls wrinkled their nose at the very name. The foul woman had managed to reduce one of their favourite lessons into a subject drier and more tedious than History of Magic. There was no chance to perform spells, and all work seemed to involve copying great chunks out of their revised and "Ministry approved" textbooks.

It was their NEWT year, the year when the sum of all their hard work should be honed before examinations in the summer. But no, instead they were forbidden any practical work and were reduced to having to read meaningless fodder. Charis and Morgana both agreed that if Umbridge’s un-pedagogic teaching methods caused them to fail DADA, they would personally use all three Unforgivable Curses simultaneously on her.

The woman was vindictive, though. Vindictive and poisonous. The girls had seen how appallingly Professor Trelawney had been treated, and whilst neither of them were especially fond of the old fraud, they did feel sympathy for the way she had been humiliated in front of her students.

And Umbridge’s vindictiveness was also tinged with blatant xenophobia. Many times she had lectured them about the dangers of interbreeding cross-species and the threat of Muggles on a peaceful, pureblood society. Charis could feel anger and hurt well up inside her stomach as the toad-like woman spoke words of hate drizzled in her cloying, sickly, honeyed tones. This was dangerous. Umbridge was feeding the undercurrent of Muggle-born hatred that was bubbling within Slytherin House. And the Slytherins, Morgana and some other brave souls excluded, seemed to lap it up.

‘Snape takes pleasure in giving out detention personally,’ Morgana replied. ‘He’d want to issue any punishments himself.’

‘And just how are you planning to get yourself in detention then, Morgana?’ her friend enquired.

To that, the red-haired witch leant back in her chair, arms crossed in front of her chest, grinning mischievously. ‘You’ll see, Star Sister. You’ll see.’

* * *
Morgana got her first chance for detention that very same evening. She and Charis had been working on their Potions essays for three hours straight, and despite her burning interest for the subject, Morgana was getting bored.

She laid her head onto the table and groaned theatrically: ‘Why did we ever sign up for NEWT Potions, Charis? Why? Why?!’

Charis had already opened her mouth to remind her friend of their reasons when a low baritone made her spin around in her chair.

‘Are you falling asleep while doing my assignment, Ms Belakane?’

Morgana shot off her chair and seemed suddenly wide awake. ‘Would never dare, sir,’ she replied. She tried hard not to grin but was failing miserably.

‘Sycophancy will get you nowhere,’ Snape snarled, and Charis flinched at the mere tone of his voice. To her utter shock, she saw Morgana’s eyes narrow slightly, and she knew that her friend was up to no good. She knew Morgana well enough to know that narrowed eyes meant trouble.

‘I was sorted into Slytherin for a reason, sir,’ Morgana started, ‘I think sycophancy becomes us rather well.’

‘I am very aware of the traits of Slytherin House, Ms Belakane,’ Snape replied in a low, dangerous tone. ‘Now get your ridiculous hide to bed before Madam Pomfrey diagnoses you with narcolepsy.’

‘Narco... What was that, sir?’ Morgana asked, looking innocent as a fawn.

‘The condition where one falls asleep during intervals throughout the day without their control, Ms Belakane,’ Snape explained in a tone that clearly showed his annoyance.

‘During the day?’ Morgana smirked. ‘Sir, it is night.’

Charis groaned inwardly, her toes curling with embarrassment inside her shoes. Morgana was skating on very thin ice. And the worst thing was that she did not even seem to care that Snape might explode with anger any second now. Her eyes darted from Snape to Morgana, hardly daring to breathe. Morgana was acting very out of character, giving her Head of House such lip, and Charis knew Snape did not tolerate insubordination of any kind. She braced herself for a scathing retort.

To her surprise, Snape’s voice was more snarky than angry when he spoke again. ‘Well done, Ms Belakane. Your powers of observation impress me. It is, however, unacceptable that you are falling asleep while doing a Potions assignment or when a superior is talking to you. Or were you not taught basic manners by your parents?’

Morgana sat up straight. ‘I am wide awake, sir. And no.’

‘No, what?’

‘Sir?’

Now she had done it.

‘Miss Belakane, I do not appreciate your tone,’ Snape spat coldly, any trace of snark gone from his voice. Now he was angry. ‘Off to bed with you now before I am forced to take points from my own House.’

And with that, he swept out of the library, leaving a gaping Charis and a smirking Morgana behind.

‘My, my, my. Looks like he had noticed us after all. Wonder if he meant my bed or his?’ Morgana mused when Snape was out of earshot.

‘Are you out of your bloody mind?’ Charis chided her friend. ‘You could have got detention for that behaviour!’

Morgana turned towards her friend and gave her a look that could just as well have come from the Head of Slytherin House himself.

‘My dearest Charis,’ she replied. ‘Getting detention was actually the point of the whole game.’

* * *
They handed in their essays on Mind Controlling potions the next day, and Charis couldn’t help but notice the mischievous grin on her friend’s face. Nor did she miss Snape’s eyebrow raising as he read the title of Morgana’s essay.

‘What the hell did you write about?’ Charis whispered.

The grin on Morgana’s face broadened. ‘Lust Potions.’

Charis gasped. ‘You did not!’

But then again, she knew Morgana. Of course she had! That was just the sort of thing she would do to get Snape’s attention. That girl had no scruples whatsoever. Charis watched as her friend smugly took out her textbook from her bag. Whilst she wasn’t sure baiting Snape was altogether the right way to approach their Potions master, she couldn’t help but feel a little envious of Morgana’s gall. An essay on Lust Potions! Morgana might as well have ‘I’ve Got the Hots for Severus’ tattooed on her forehead, it was so obvious! Charis would never have the nerve to do something so blatant. Fiddling with her own textbook, she pondered how Snape would react to this new bit of attention seeking.

And Morgana certainly had gotten the attention of their Potions master. In fact, he approached the two girls in the library the very same evening.

‘That was a well thought-through essay you handed in today, Ms Belakane,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Three rolls of parchment, too. Ten points to Slytherin for your diligence.’

Charis gasped, and Morgana cocked an eyebrow at her teacher. Ten points and praise? Na, that was too good to be true. And Snape’s slightly narrowed eyes proved them right.

‘However,’ he went on. ‘Ten points will be taken from Slytherin for having your mind firmly in the gutter.’

Morgana snorted. ‘My mind likes the gutter, sir.’

Snape raised an eyebrow at her and smirked. ‘So it seems, Ms Belakane. So it seems.’


* * *
It was a Sunday afternoon in late October when Morgana fled her common room with a book in her hand. There was no way she was going to be able to read in there, not with Draco Malfoy showing off his new broom that his daddy had bought. How she hated that little brat! She had seen enough of him over the summer, when she had been invited to stay at Malfoy Manor. She certainly had no desire whatsoever to spend any more time with Draco.

But where was she to go? She couldn’t take that book to the library. She had bought it in Knockturn Alley, and it was certainly not part of the curriculum. So she decided to find a quiet little alcove in one of the corridors in the dungeon. There she conjured a fluffy pillow and made herself comfortable.

Potions which enabled the brewer to ensnare the drinker’s mind proved to be an interesting read indeed, and Morgana was just re-reading a very alluring passage about Lust Potions when a low baritone made her slam the book shut.

‘Enjoying yourself, Ms Belakane?’

She raised her head to stare up into a pair of beetle-black eyes and smiled. ‘I’m studying, sir.’

Snape cocked an eyebrow at her, and she could have sworn that he was suppressing a grin. ‘Well, there is a first time for everything.’

Morgana bit her lip not to laugh. Snape knew her grades. And he knew damn well that she was a good student.

‘I am not particularly keen on books, sir,’ she replied. ‘I am more of a learning-by-doing-person.’

Snape peered down at her book and smirked. ‘Obviously. One cannot learn how to brew potions by merely reading a book.’

‘Of course not, sir,’ Morgana replied with a smile that could have made wax melt, ‘Potions require more than intellect.’ A little flattery couldn’t hurt, now could it?

‘Indeed.’ Snape’s eyes narrowed slightly, and Morgana felt a shudder go down her spine. She hated it when he looked at her that way. And at the same time, she relished it.

‘And what, pray, are you endeavouring to learn today, Ms Belakane?’

What the hell did he think she was endeavouring to learn? She was reading a book about Mind Controlling potions. Morgana set her jaw and looked up at her Head of House. If she played her cards right, she might have a chance for a private lesson. ‘Anything you’d see fit to teach me, sir.’

‘It is Sunday, Ms Belakane,’ Snape replied, his voice cold. ‘You do realise lessons are for weekdays only?’ Then a flicker of amusement appeared in his eyes. ‘Are you asking me for remedial lessons, Ms Belakane?’

Bingo. ‘Do you think I need them, sir?’

‘Honestly? No.’

Morgana gasped. Had Severus Snape just given her a compliment? Horklumps might fly!

‘There is no harm in practising, however,’ Snape went on, already directing his steps towards the Potions classroom. ‘Practice makes perfect, after all.’

Morgana got up, Vanished the pillow and put her book into her book bag. ‘Then what might we be practising today, professor?’

‘So you want to practice, right this instant?’ Snape asked, suddenly sounding sour. ‘You realise I will have to supervise you, don’t you? I would have appreciated some advance notice or even the courtesy to be asked to use my classroom …’

Morgana frowned. Talking about getting mixed signals. Here he was, telling her off for disturbing him, and at the same time he was already holding open the door to the Potions classroom. She had no idea if he wanted her to enter the classroom or not.

But Snape didn’t move, was still holding open the door, and Morgana took her chance. She slunk inside under his outstretched arm and immediately turned to look at him. ‘I’m sorry, sir. Since you opened the door, I thought that I was welcome. I would have assumed that you’d send me away if you found my presence here disturbing.’

‘Disturbing?’ Snape repeated, his black eyes boring into her blue ones. ‘No. But had I realised you had planned on getting some practical experience, I would have been more prepared. It is, after all, only common courtesy to ask, seeing as you will be using ingredients from my store cupboards.’

‘More prepared?’ Morgana saw her chance for yet another dose of flattering. ‘But sir, you certainly do not need time to get prepared.’

His gaze became even more intense, and Morgana had to take a deep breath to keep her knees from going weak.

‘What do you mean by that, Ms Belakane?’ he asked slowly.

‘I mean that if anyone in this castle is man enough to take on any challenge at any time of the day, it must be you, sir.’

‘It seems you have a rather inflated sense of ego, Ms Belakane,’ he growled. ‘You are no more of a challenge to me that a Doxy is.’

Of course he would have taken that the wrong way, Morgana thought. Oh well, the damage was done, and she might as well push a little further. Eyes slightly narrowed, she whispered: ‘Try me, sir.’

His voice was a stern mask, but his voice was dangerous. ‘Are you threatening me, Ms Belakane?’

Many other students would have run for their lives, but Morgana stayed put. Backing away now would be against her nature. ‘Threatening you would be a waste of time, sir. Didn’t you just say that I was no more of a challenge than a Doxy?’

‘Then why are you trying my patience?’ His voice was like thunder, but Morgana didn’t flinch.

‘Would you like me to leave, sir?’

She heard him breathe through his nose and expected a yes. But Snape surprised her:

‘You may stay,’ he growled. ‘But you will be setting your own work. And if you try goading me again, you will be out of this classroom quicker than water off a Hippogriff. Do I make myself clear?’

‘Crystal clear, sir,’ she answered and smirked as he turned to unlock the store cupboard. It almost looked liked she had managed to get under his skin.

Snape watched Morgana closely as she started to pick her ingredients and set up her workstation. She had obviously chosen to brew a simple Healing Potion. Nothing advanced, but a sensible choice.

He disappeared into the shadows of the classroom, pretended to be working on his own potion, but in fact, his eyes never left the girl.

Why him, he wondered? Of all the teachers in the castle, why did she feel the need to impress him? He knew that she had a knack for Potions. And she must know that he had seen her talent when he had given her an O on her OWLs. Then why was she trying so hard?

He could understand the motives of her little friend. He wasn’t blind, after all, and had noticed how Charis blushed every time he spoke to her and how her pupils dilated when he gave her one of his intense looks. That girl certainly had some kind of crush on him. It was amusing, really. It had only developed in the last year or so, as she had become a young woman. The look in her bright green eyes had changed from one of intelligent concentration to one of longing. The little Ravenclaw had a crush on her teacher. Snape snorted. In all his time teaching, he had only ever recognised a schoolgirl crush in a handful of students, and the majority of those were from his own house. Still, it was fun to watch her blush and squirm, and Snape intended to see how far he could push the girl into further embarrassment from her little crush.

But Morgana? He wondered if the word crush was even part of her vocabulary. From what he had seen over the last year, she did not chose boys with her heart, but picked them according to what she could get from them.

She had become cocky over the summer, brattish even. It almost seemed to Snape as if she would do anything to get his attention, even the negative kind. She resembled a petulant teenager who would deliberately get into trouble for her parents to notice her.

Was that it? Snape frowned. He knew that Morgana had lost her parents at a very young age. She wouldn’t be the first student to look for a father figure in one of their teachers. But him? The mere thought was ridiculous. He supposed the girl could be having Electra Complex issues – it wouldn’t be impossible to imagine that the girl was projecting some kind of bizarre Freudian schemas on to him from the lack of a strong patriarchal figure in her own life. Snape mentally shook himself. Now he was indeed being ridiculous.

‘By the way, Ms Belakane,’ he asked as she was bottling her potion. ‘I meant to talk to you about your essay. Why ever did you choose Lust Potions? Girls your age normally choose to write about Amortentia when studying Mind Controlling Potions.’

Morgana tried to look nonchalant, but the way her head snapped up told Snape that he had touched a nerve. Nevertheless, her answer and the cold tone in which she delivered it surprised him.

‘Amortentia is a Love Potion, sir. And in my opinion, love is highly overrated.’

She handed him her phial for grading and silently cleaned up her workstation. Within five more minutes, she had gone. And Snape stared at the door she had closed behind her, wondering how a girl that young could have lost hope in love already.