Owl Eyes

Chapter Three: Potions and Pride

To stir Like a dance of sorts

A potion is brewing

A medicine stewing

To be measured in gallons and quarts

Herbs and flowers

Together will blend

Someone we'll mend

Potions hold great power

Your hand be precise

Someone's life depends

On how this potion ends

Mistakes will not suffice

The Potions classroom was full of sounds and smells. So many scents of herbs I could not separate one from another. I heard the sounds of cauldrons bubbling as if they were living things. Aside from the noise of the materials we were to use the silence was deafening. No one wished to interrupt Snape. To shake him from his thoughts could be deadly or at least lose your house a hundred points, that is, if you were in Gryffindor.

"You will not make a mistake on this potion," Snape said evilly. "You are fifth years. I expect more from you than I have seen thus far. I have several projects that need attending to for those select few who might be stupid enough to choose to ignore my instructions."

I could tell it was going to be a long year with Snape in Potions class. He had seemed nice enough when I had met him on my first night at Hogwarts, but now he was beginning to live up to his reputation. It was as if he had appearances to keep up. He didn't seem like the type of man to be cruel. I could sense things about him and none of them were pure evil. I often thought about people when I met them. I was usually curious to know what they were like and had become a good judge of character. Here, in the classroom, he was acting, or at least it was his outer shell talking. What lay beneath was something entirely different. My friends could never know this thing that I had discovered about him. They would not understand, no one ever did understand me and my thoughts about others. In fact, most people simply did not understand others. I think most people don't bother to try. It is unimportant to them. In times like these are though, it can mean the difference between life and death. My father had told me that and I had believed him, knowing he was both wise and careful.

I was sure I had accurate notes of what to do but neither of my parents had been very good with potions so I hadn't had the most complete education regarding the subject. I hoped this wasn't going to be revealed to Snape on my first day in his class. I didn't want to blow anything up. Why wasn't he having us do an easy potion during this first lesson? Perhaps having us brew something difficult was just part of keeping up his reputation.

It was a good thing my mother wasn't present for the lesson. She would worry constantly about the difficulty of the potion. While she was an expert healer she was never good with the potions used in her line of work. She preferred to heal using spells whenever possible, which made her most useful in the field. My father, on the other hand, just said that potion brewing was better left to those talented in the craft. He didn't even try to brew his own.

I sighed and began trying to determine which ingredient was which. Why hadn't I labeled these with my Muggle Braille labeler like I had my books? This was not going to be an easy class, not at all. Ron and Harry had warned me, though I wasn't sure I had totally believed them. Hermione hadn't seemed to mind the class. I was sure she wasn't fond of Snape but she didn't complain about him as often as Harry and Ron did.

He, Professor Snape, kept stopping in front of me to inspect my work. I could tell he was just waiting for me to make a mistake. I grew more and more nervous as I worked. I measured ingredients as carefully as possible. When I stirred I did it as slowly and deliberately as possible. I kept checking the potions' directions and worked as steadily as I could, despite my hands which shook rather violently.

Suddenly, there was a bang and I was showered with hot liquid. My potion had exploded! The stench was horrible and it was everywhere. I wiped my face with the back of my hand and shivered as the slime slid across my skin. It burned my flesh ever so slightly, but I didn't notice the heat of it. It warmed slowly and bit at my flesh like tiny bugs everywhere on my body.

Professor Snape was at my side in an instant fussing over me. He didn't seem to blame me completely but was quite worried about my safety and any injuries I may have received. He dismissed class after the mess was taken care of, and rushed me to the hospital wing. Hermione, Ron, and Harry trailed behind us silently.

Madam Pomfrey fussed over me. She wiped off most of the potion and began lathering on a lotion to protect and heal my skin, but not before she had ushered professor Snape and my friends away, and drawn the curtain closed around the bed I was in. The whole process seemed rather dramatic to me. I could tell right away that she was an overexaggerator. The potion hadn't burned any of my skin deeply. I had been in worse accidents before, not all of them related to potion making.

"What was he thinking, starting you of all people out with that potion?" she said briskly.

She bustled around checking all of my vital signs. I thought the exam to be rather unnecessary, but she didn't seem to share my thoughts.

I decided it was better not to answer her question, or was it a statement. She probably wouldn't approve of my answer anyway. My thoughts were interrupted when she forced me to drink a bitter tasting substance. She claimed it would help ease any after effects from the potion getting spilled, no exploded on me. At the time I wasn't considering after effects. In fact, I couldn't even remember what the potion we had been working on was for. I began to hope that it wasn't a potion that affected memory.

"Perhaps you should rest here for the remainder of the day where I can keep an eye on you," she said as she cast the spell to check my temperature once more. "It has gone down some but it was quite high when you first arrived, thanks to the carelessness of our Potions Master."

She swept away and I could hear the curtains swishing behind her. Her footsteps retreated probably to her office and I couldn't hear anyone else in the room. I didn't want to be stuck in the hospital wing though.

I next heard approaching steps. This couldn't be Madam Pomfrey. These were long strides that reached forward with a purpose. They were the steps of Professor Snape. No sooner had I come to that conclusion than the curtain was drawn back. He strode in and stopped beside the bed like a bird half perched on a branch, unwilling to rest there longer than would be absolutely necessary.

"I see that you survived your little mistake thanks to Madam Pomfrey," he said.

I nodded.

"Good," he said. "It would hardly be possible to serve your detention if you were dead...or critically injured."

I nodded again. Surely talking would do me no good.

"You will report to my office tomorrow night at eight o'clock. I'm sure Mr. Potter can show you where it is if you can't find it yourself. Though, I think you are much more competent than some others would like to believe."

I nodded again. I was beginning to feel stupid.

"Well, as you have nothing to say, I best be returning to my classroom where I'm sure that I will discover that my next class has ruined the room just as thoroughly as you had done, Miss Lee."

With all his bitter words finally spat out for good his sweeping strides retreated, and continued even with the opening and closing of the hospital wing door. He had seemed harsher than he had been in the classroom. Perhaps he had just had time to ponder the situation. He was right though, I had made a big mistake. It could have cost me my life had the circumstances been different.

As soon as Professor Snape was gone eager steps approached my bed.

"Well done! The hospital wing on your second day here," Ron said. "That's better than Harry's record even."

The three of them laughed.

"Professor Snape gave me detention," I told them.

"We heard," Hermione said half whispering. "You'll be stuck in the dungeons with him...alone."

"I'm sure Snape won't kill her!" Harry exclaimed.

"Well, isn't that comforting," Hermione said.

"That stupid git shouldn't be able to get away with giving you detention!" Ron said in protest. "It wasn't your fault the potion exploded."

"Sure it was," I explained. "I'm the one that must have added the wrong ingredient."

"But he should have been watching," Harry said. "It was your first day here and that potion is hard to do right."

"And you can't even see!" Ron said as if it were new news.

"That's not his fault," I said. "It's my responsibility to deal with my blindness and make sure I can do things. Snape's just there to help."

"He should have done something," Ron insisted.

"Let me handle this," I said.

"Do you really think that detention is fair?" Ron asked.

"Ron," Hermione prodded, "leave Lucinda alone. I think she knows what she's talking about."

I said nothing.

"Alright, but I just don't like her being alone with Snape, the overgrown bat!" Ron said with a huff.

"I assure you I can fend for myself quite adequately," I told Ron.

"Yeah remember what Dumbledore said?" Hermione asked.

There was silence.

Hermione finally changed the subject.

"Will you be going to our next class?" she asked. "We're almost going to be late!"

"Yeah when is Madam Pomfrey letting you out of here?" Harry asked.

"I don't know," I replied.

Just then she arrived to banish everyone from my presence. She told them I needed rest to heal and that it had been a traumatic experience for me. I got the feeling she was making me stay the afternoon in the hospital wing because of my blindness, not because I was badly injured or traumatized. I didn't argue with her though. I was feeling a bit tired and it would get me out of History of Magic.

Finally, just before dinner, I was released from the prison otherwise known as the hospital wing. I was starving and made my way directly to the Great Hall. None of my friends had arrived yet so I selected a seat and sat down. I bravely began sampling food from the dishes nearest to me.

Hermione, Ron, and Harry arrived with a swarm of groaning voices. Apparently History of Magic was as boring as ever. I was glad I had missed it. Hermione told me right away that there were lots of notes for it and I could have a copy of hers. She insisted that the information was very important and would surely be on an upcoming test. Harry and Ron acted as if they could care less about the notes they had just taken. I began to wonder if the boys had in fact taken notes at all, and I felt glad I didn't have to rely on copies from them. Although History of Magic sounded rather dull to me I wasn't about to get bad marks in the class just because it was boring. My parents really wouldn't buy that excuse. Besides, I had my future to think about. Employers would want to know my marks for every class I had taken. I could mess around at school, as long as I didn't get expelled, but not where my coursework was concerned.

Once dinner was over we made our way to the common room as a group. Along the way I noted where doors were and tried to memorize each of the vanishing steps on the stair cases. It was hard work learning the castle but I decided that if I was persistent I could succeed. My pride had been badly injured earlier in the day. I had often thought of myself as just as competent as everyone else. I was proud of how I had learned to get along in the world. But now, when I so desperately needed to fit in, to succeed and prove myself, I had screwed up. I had made one of the biggest mistakes of my schooling career by messing up a potion in Snape's class, I thought. What would he have me doing for detention? At first it had seemed like he would be one of the few professors to treat me normally, but now I had ruined that by making a mistake. I had become the incompetent blind girl, even in his eyes. He had said that he thought I could find my own way to his office though. Perhaps it wasn't as bad as I thought?

I sat in the common room and tried to hurry through my Muggle Studies homework. It was just a few questions we had to answer. I knew little about Muggles. We, my family and I, lived in a wizarding neighborhood. My parents worked for the American Ministry of Magic and all of their friends were wizards. Since I knew so little it seemed like Muggle Studies would be interesting. Ron took an interest in my work and I couldn't help but wonder why he wasn't taking the class himself instead of divination. After all, he and Harry had already started complaining about that class.

"Quero Electricity," I told my Muggle Studies book as I tapped it with my wand. Pages turned rapidly on their own and when they stopped I cast the reading spell.

"Where did you learn all of those spells?" Harry asked.

"My parents," I replied "They had to find a way to help me read and write. I had a Muggle teacher who taught me a little about cooking, cleaning, getting around with a cane, doing things in the Muggle world, but I never learned enough to get by, really."

"What about those dot things?" Harry asked.

"It's called Braille," Hermione said, her voice muffled by the book which was in front of her face.

"Yeah, uh Braille," Harry repeated.

"Well, I learned that too," I said. "I just never learned it really well so that I could be fast at it. Braille books are also quite large. Wizarding books never come in Braille and have to be translated. Translation involves several spells, so they can be read in Braille."

"I love that writing spell," Ron said. "Can you teach it to me?"

"Ron!" Hermione screeched disgustedly. "You don't need it. Just be glad you can write on your own."

"You sound like my mum," Ron informed Hermione.

"Well," I said. "It is quite an easy spell, but perhaps you ought to spend some time in the library looking for it."

I grinned at Ron and Harry laughed loudly. Eventually all four of us were laughing.

Once everyone was back to working on their homework I decided to write to my parents.

Dear Mom and Dad,

I arrived safely. I've already made three friends and I think I'm going to like it here. I do have one very mean professor who doesn't think I'll be able to do the work in her class. She teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts. The Potions professor is also difficult. I got detention from him today. Don't worry though, I wasn't doing anything too terrible. I still feel bad about it though. I blew up my potion. It got all over me and I had to go to the hospital wing. I'm okay now, it wasn't a bad accident. I should have labeled my potions ingredients in Braille or something.

The castle is beautiful. It is quite huge though. It has portraits, which you open with passwords and staircases that move. I've already been lost and late for class once. Hopefully that won't happen again.

This letter makes it sound like I'm having a horrible time here but I'm really not, I promise! I love you both and will write soon.

Love,

Lucinda Lina

Once I had finished the letter, I summoned my owl using telepathy. She flew directly to me through the portrait door, which must have been open at the time.

"Wow!" Ron said.

"What?" I asked as I tied the letter to Sapa's leg. I just hated missing anything that might be going on in the room.

"Your owl just appeared out of nowhere when you finished," Harry answered for Ron.

"It's telepathy," I said. "How else am I supposed to send a letter?"

"Um," Harry said. "Most people go to the Owlery and just get their owls."

"Oh, that's too far to walk."

Hermione laughed. "I've never seen anyone do that," she said. "I've read about it though."

"Wait," Ron said. "Let me guess, it was in Hogwarts a History?"

"Actually no. It was in another book. I can't remember which one right now."

"Maybe you need sleep," Ron teased.

"Good idea," I said, raising my arm abruptly to send Sapa into flight.

"She needs out the portrait hole," Harry commented as he got up.

"Thanks," I called after him as he made his way over to open it for her.