There was much excitement when Professor Snape took ill. It was mid-winter and the hated Potions Master had succumbed to flu. Some rumors spread that it was worse than the flu, but most knew that would be wishful thinking.
However, with Snape gone, the students would have a substitute. But, the students decided, any substitute would be better than Snape.
***
Ronald Weasley entered the dark dungeon for potions. His ginger hair hung in his eyes as he sank into his seat.
“Why so glum?” said a cheerful voice”a woman’s voice.
Ron looked up in surprise. Ron expected Snape to be at the front of the classroom, but he was no where in sight. The woman who’d spoke (surely it was her, for there was no one else Ron was unfamiliar with in the room) stood before Ron’s desk. Merlin, she looked odd.
Surrounded by dark décor of the dungeons, stood a woman with green hair. Not just ‘green’. It was a color between puke and neon green that glared in the candlelight. Her eyes were mismatched (one blue; one brown) and her outfit… Eclectic, would be the polite term. Eclectic, being a euphemism for brightly-colored, out-of-place and mix-‘n’-matched. The outfit reminded Ron of something Ginny would have put together at age three. It was hardly something for a grown woman to wear.
“I’m not glum,” Ron said, at long last.
“I think somebody’s grumpy…” said the lady in a babyish voice. “C’mon smile!”
Ron held his tongue, though sorely tempted to tell her what she could do with her idea of treating him like he was four. But, he smiled. If, for no other reason, than the woman’s absurdity.
The rest of the class began to file in and take their seats. The woman walked away from Ron’s desk to the front of the room.
“Good day, class!” said the woman cheerfully. “My name is Professor Berezi. It’s so nice to see all your bright shining faces!”
Ron looked around; most kids were laughing or smiling in a mocking way at Professor Berezi.
“Let’s get started, shall we? Professor What’s-His-Name must have left stuff for us to do, but I couldn’t find it anywhere!”
There was a wracking cough from Snape’s office at that. Professor Berezi waited for it to end.
“So instead, I’ve decided to give you a little project of my own!” she said, still cheerful as ever.
The class however, became rather less cheerful. That is to say, there were groans and moans and sighs from everyone. Seamus Finnigan punched his desk with such force that his ink bottle fell off it and shattered.
“Oopsie!” tinkled Professor Berezi, nearly skipping over to Seamus’ desk. “Looks like someone did a ‘no-no’. We’d better fix that!”
Seamus glowered as he cleaned up the spilt ink. Ron suppressed a laugh. Once the mess was cleaned up, Professor Berezi resumed her speech.
“For this project, you have to make a potion that represents you. You can create one of your own, or you can make something already in existence. I want you to bring it to class on Wednesday.”
More groaning and moaning and sighing ensued.
“Now,” said Professor Berezi. “I want you all to begin writing down traits that make you… you. Do this until the end of class.”
Then she sat in Snape’s chair and put her feet on his desk.
“Not a very comfortable chair is it?” she said loudly. “Honestly, your professor’s butt must hurt like heck every time he sits in his chair.”
“It’s not like we pay much attention to Snape’s arse,” said Ron’s best friend, Harry Potter.
Professor Berezi giggled. “I suppose not.”
***
Two hours later, in the Gryffindor common room, Ron’s list only comprised of three ingredients: heroics, courage, and loyalty. It sounded good, like something he could use to get an “O” on the assignment. Since Snape wouldn’t be grading it, Ron figured he had a better shot at passing, at least.
Ron leaned back into his cushy armchair and shut his eyes. Then he heard a commotion. Hermione Granger, another one of Ron’s friends, had dropped her rather large stack of books. He rushed to go help her.
“Here you go, my lady,” he said teasingly.
“Ron, chivalry is dead. But, thanks anyways. I’m headed down to the library to return these. Care to join me?” Hermione asked briskly.
“No thanks,” said Ron, shrugging. “I’ve got that Potions’ homework to do. Professor Berezi is odd, don’t you think?”
“She is different,” Hermione said indifferently. “I’ve got to go.”
As she left, Ron thought.
“Chivalry is dead.” Hmm… he added a ‘good portion’ of chivalry to his list.
***
By the next afternoon, Ron only had his four words. Heroics, courage, loyalty and chivalry: hardly the ingredients of a normal potion. As he and Harry played a game of wizards’ chess, Ron cast a glance to the staff table. Snape’s seat was not vacated, but rather inhabited by Professor Berezi. Ron groaned. For a fleeting second he wished Snape would get better soon. When Ron looked to the chess board, it was his move.
“Knight to E5. Checkmate, Harry. I win. Again,” he said, proudly.
“You’re so stuck-up sometimes,” said Hermione, moodily. “So…. Arrogant.”
Ron pulled out his list and scribbled down ‘Arrogance’. He smiled at Hermione.
“Thanks, Hermione. That’s two adjectives you’ve given me. Chivalrous and arrogant. What’s your problem?”
“That stupid potions assignment! I spent all night researching complex potions to make and couldn’t find a single one that represented me!”
Hermione put her bushy head down on the table and her body shook as she cried tears of frustration. Ron patted her on the back feeling a wave of sympathy and compassion towards her. That’s it! Compassion! Ron jotted that down as well, before continuing to pat Hermione on the back.
“Have you considered a wit-sharpening potion or something?” asked Harry. “Not very difficult to make, for you anyways.”
Hermione’s head shot up. She had stopped crying.
“That’s it! Harry you’re a genius!” She was smiling again. Ron liked it when she smiled.
Ron looked over his list that night. His potion was due tomorrow, but he felt it was missing something. With a touch of humor he added ‘firewhisky’ to his list before going to sleep. He was going to have fun tomorrow.
***
The next morning, in Potions class Ron seemed to be the only one smiling. Everyone else shuffled in with half-finished potions, or crumpled lists on long sheets of parchment.
“Why so glum?” Professor Berezi asked the class in her sing-songy voice. “C’mon, smile!”
Instead, groans and moans and sighs ensued.
“Oh don’t be grumpy! It’s project presentation day!”
Eye-rolls followed that statement almost immediately. And Professor Berezi recognized defeat, at long last.
“Who wants to go first?” she asked, her voice now not-so-bright.
Hermione’s hand shot in the air. And, as hers was the only one up, she presented first.
“I made a wit sharpening potion at the suggestion of a friend,” she said. “The wit-sharpening potion suits me because it’s to make one smart, which…” Hermione went pink. “I guess I am.”
She smiled at Professor Berezi and sat down quickly, obviously embarrassed. Ron and Harry both patted her on the back.
“Well done, Miss Granger… I believe it was?” said Professor Berezi, when she had stopped writing. “Who’s next?”
There was polite clapping for Hermione as she sat down. Then, to everyone’s surprise, including his own, Ron Weasley raised his hand. Professor Berezi called on him at once and Ron stood up before the class. He unfolded his list and read.
“I chose to create my own potion,” he said. “I call it The Perfect Gryffindor Spirit, but it’s kinda hard to actually make. You need to mix a dash of heroics as a base. Then, add two large helpings of courage. A smidging of loyalty is always good. A good portion of chivalry should be added after you let it simmer for three minutes. Add a little arrogance and pride for good measure.” Ron paused to draw breath. “Add a drop of compassion and a smattering of firewhiskey. Shake it, don’t stir. Never stir. And then you toast!”
Ron pulled out a flagon of butterbeer, charmed to look red and gold.
“To Gryffindor and Gryffindor spirit!” said Ron heartily, before taking a swig. “Voila! Behold The Perfect Gryffindor Spirit!”
The room went silent. Ron was sure he’d failed. When, suddenly applause from his fellow Gryffindors erupted. Meanwhile, the Slytherins they shared the class with said and did nothing. But Ron didn’t care. He was thankful to have finished his project. He took a deep, theatrical bow and sat down next to Harry and Hermione.
“Nice toast, mate,” said Harry, clapping Ron on the back.
“That was brilliant, Ron,” said Hermione. “Much better than mine. You deserve full marks.”
***
The next day, when they walked into Potions, Professor Berezi was gone. Instead, Professor Snape sat menacingly at his desk.
“Although you had a substitute for your lessons for the past few days, she did nothing according to my lesson plans,” said Snape darkly. “The ‘assignment’ she gave you, such as it was, is not going in as a grade. It was absurd and now we are a few days behind in our lessons. Open your books to page one-hundred and ninety-two.”
Groans and moans and sighing ensued.