Up for a Burnout//Harry Potter

Thursday morning brought double Potions with it. Matt set his bag down near the front of the class, not wanting to miss any of the instructions their Professor might give them. He was one of the first students there, so when he saw the room fill with Gryffindors and Slytherins he sighed. There seemed to be some tension between those two houses, something bigger than a simple harmless competition. Two bags got dropped on the table he was sitting at and Matt looked up. Hermione and Neville, another boy from Gryffindor, sat opposite of him.

"Hey." Matt smiled.

"Hi Matt!" Hermione smiled back. Neville didn't seem to register him at all. He was pale and shaky, playing with the sleeves of his robe and kept his head down.

"You okay, Neville?" Matt tilted his head.

"Hmm?" He looked up, startled. "Yeah, fine." He obviously lied. Then he jumped when the door to the classroom slammed shut and Professor Snape walked to the front of the class.

"Today, you'll be brewing the Shrinking Solution. Page twelve." Matt frowned when that seemed to be the only thing the Professor was intending to say. He looked around, confused, when everyone in class seemed to just go with it and opened their books, grabbed the ingredients and prepared their potion stations. "Something wrong, O'Donnell?" Snape's eyes turned sharply at him. Matt opened his mouth, getting ready to argue that he could tell them at least what the potion was commonly used for or what were its possible side-effects, but the look Hermione sent his way stopped him. Her eyes were meaningfully wide and she very subtly shook her head. Matthieu wasn't a fool, he knew when to take the hint.

"No sir." He said in a low voice.

"Then get to it. Just because you're a transfer doesn't mean you will get special treatment." Matt's eyebrow twitched. So he was that kind of a teacher. Very well, Matt did love a challenge. And spite was one of the most effective motivators. Opening his book and skimming the text, he found that the recipe was written in complex sentences with barely any paragraphs. The Ravenclaw rolled his eyes and pulled out a piece of parchment, copying down the instructions into simple bullet points in his messy handwriting. It didn't take long, it wasn't the most difficult potion Matt has ever brewed, but copying the recipe and double checking he had everything did take around ten minutes. Long enough for Snape to notice he was the only one without a cutting board in front of him. "Planning to start anytime soon, O'Donnell?" Snape snarked at Matt as he was walking by, clearly not expecting any answer for he was just continuing on his way.

"I have a system, Professor." Matt said confidently, not bothering to look up. Snape stopped and turned around. Matt noticed Neville pale even more.

"Say that again." Snape said with an intimidating tone and the rest of the class went quiet, everyone staring at them.

"I said..." Matt looked up into Snape's dark eyes. "...I have a system, Professor. As a Potions Master, I am sure you do too, sir." Matt said in the most polite way he could manage. "And it's the results that matter, no?" Snape glared at him, solidifying the picture of a pathetic bully in Matt's mind. Anyone who found it necessary to intimidate thirteen-year-olds deserved no respect in Matt's books.

"I expect you to be finished by the end of the class." Snape hissed out and began turning around.

"Don't worry, sir, I believe I'm gonna be finished with some time to spare." Matt lazily smiled and turned back to his parchment, perfectly aware of the hateful glare Snape shot him over his shoulder. So the challenge began. For the next forty minutes, Matt was in his zone, not letting in anything but the sound of his bubbling cauldron. He missed Malfoy coming in, being a prat and he missed Snape smirk cruelly at Neville when his potion turned orange instead of bright green. He didn't miss this, however: