Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures

Harry let go of Neville, who stood panting and glaring at him.

“Why did you stop me?” he asked angrily.

“I had to stop you,” Harry gasped, picking up his bag. “Crabbe and Goyle would’ve torn you apart.”

“Neville, we…” Hermione paused, not knowing what to say.

She shouldn’t be talking about Neville’s parents here; it was supposed to be a secret, something they had sworn not to tell anyone.

Hermione wanted to say that she understood Neville, but could they really understand Neville’s pain? The answer was obviously no.

Neville said nothing; he merely snatched up his own bag and stalked off into the dungeon.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron looked at each other, feeling uneasy about Neville’s state, and followed him into the classroom.

They took their usual seats at the back of the class and pulled out parchment, quills, and their copies of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. The class around them was whispering about what Neville had just done.

“You will notice,” said Snape in his low, sneering voice, “that we have a guest with us today.”

He gestured toward the dim corner of the dungeon, and Harry saw Professor Umbridge sitting there, clipboard on her knee.

“It’s Umbridge!” He glanced at Ron and Hermione and raised his eyebrows.

Snape and Umbridge, the two teachers he hated most … it was hard to decide which he wanted to triumph over the other.

Umbridge seemed to have recovered, there was no trace of being manipulated by Evan, and she was still as annoying as before.

“We are continuing with our Strengthening Solutions today, you will find your mixtures as you left them last lesson, if correctly made they should have matured well over the weekend — instructions” — he waved his wand again — “on the board. Carry on.”

Umbridge had not given up on evaluating the professors and started the work again on the first day after she came back.

She included Snape in the assessment this time, knowing that she had never attended his Potions class before.

Snape’s classes were like this – no one was allowed to speak or ask questions. They didn’t even need to open their potions textbooks. All the steps were written on the board. They only needed a copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi for assistance to know the specific uses of herbs.

Most of the brewing recipes given by Snape were slightly different from those in the books. Evan said he had improved them to make the potions more effective. He had even specially asked Percy for his Potions class notes to study.

But Harry remained skeptical because he had never been able to brew them properly and found it more effective to follow the textbook when making potions back at home.

Professor Umbridge spent the first half hour of the lesson making notes in her corner and did not say a word.

Harry was very interested in hearing her question Snape, so interested, that he was becoming careless with his potion again.

“Salamander blood, Harry!” Hermione moaned, grabbing his wrist to prevent him adding the wrong ingredient for the third time. “You’ve got it wrong, it’s not pomegranate juice!”

“Right,” said Harry vaguely, putting down the bottle and continuing to watch the corner, where Umbridge had just gotten to her feet.

She strode between two lines of desks toward Snape, who was bending over Dean Thomas’s cauldron.

“Well, the class seems fairly advanced for their level,” she said briskly to Snape’s back. “Though I would question whether it is advisable to teach them a potion like the Strengthening Solution. I think the Ministry would prefer it if that was removed from the syllabus!”

Snape straightened up slowly and turned to look at her.

“Potions of this difficulty should be taught in the N.E.W.T level classes for advanced wizards. In my opinion, I think what they should be learning now is how to brew an antidote correctly.” Umbridge continued.

“That’s a first year lesson, and as the Potions Master, it’s up to me to decide what my students should learn.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t agree with your viewpoint on this!” Umbridge said, starting to scribble on her clipboard. “Now is not the time to discuss this matter, but I can reveal one thing: you will soon find out that the Ministry of Magic is going to reform the Hogwarts curriculum thoroughly. We will have experts examine what each year should be taught, rather than leaving it up to the professors. Now, please answer me, how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts? “

“Fourteen years.” Snape’s expression was unfathomable.

His eyes on Snape, Harry added a few drops to his potion; it hissed menacingly and turned from turquoise to orange.

“You applied first for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?” Professor Umbridge asked Snape.

“Yes,” said Snape quietly.

“But you were unsuccessful?”

“Obviously.” Snape’s lip curled.

“But why? This is really strange. The position of professor of this course is very vacant.” Professor Umbridge scribbled on her clipboard. “And you have applied regularly for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post since you first joined the school, I believe?”

“Yes,” said Snape quietly, barely moving his lips. He looked very angry.

“Do you have any idea why Dumbledore has consistently refused to appoint you?” asked Umbridge.

“I suggest you ask him,” said Snape jerkily.

“Oh I shall,” said Professor Umbridge with a sweet smile, “Well, I heard that you are also a Potions Master? As far as I know, there are very few wizards with this title nowadays. Can you show me your skills? Brew a high-level potion?”

“No!” Snape said coldly, his black eyes narrowed, “Is it relevant?”

“Oh yes,” said Professor Umbridge. “Yes, the Ministry wants a thorough understanding of teachers’ backgrounds and abilities. If you can’t prove yourself, it’s a demerit. I must remind you that I will be looking into the research you submitted to earn that title, and I hope it stands up to expert scrutiny.”

She turned away, walked over to Pansy Parkinson and began questioning her about the lessons.

Snape looked around at Harry and their eyes met for a second. Harry hastily dropped his gaze to his potion, which was now congealing foully and giving off a strong smell of burned rubber.

“No marks again, then, Potter,” said Snape maliciously, emptying Harry’s cauldron with a wave of his wand. “You will write me an essay on the correct composition of this potion, indicating how and why you went wrong, to be handed in next lesson, do you understand?”

“Yes,” said Harry furiously.

With a smile on her face, Umbridge looked at Snape’s attitude towards Harry without stopping him.

She was just writing something down quickly on her clipboard. It was unsure if it was a deduction or a bonus…

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