10 of 10

Chapter 1 Harry Snaps

Thanks to my lovely beta, LadyLini, who did the first draft, for all her help in making these easier to read for you, my readers. And now I'd like to thank darrelldeam and alix33 for looking over the second draft.

This will be the last story from 'Little of this, more of that', which I am rewriting, unless I get a request. I broke this one up into two chapters, because it was very long.

This is going on the premise that Hogwarts has tuition. I was informed, after I wrote it, that they do not. However, I like the story, so I am rewriting it.

At the time of this posting, I have a new poll on my profile that has nothing to do with this story. I just get curious. Remember this is fanfiction, so some things are not going to be canon. Like Harry's and Hermione's friendship, which I am starting early.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter that pleasure belongs to J.K. Rowling, and all the people who she gave permission to have it make her rich. I just play in her sandbox.

*blah* are scenes taken from the book.

Hphphp

Harry Potter and his two new friends, Ron and Hermione, went into their first potions class. Harry had been looking forward to this class since he had read through the book. He was rather excited. He reckoned that since he had been cooking for a long time this was one class he couldn't fail in. The three friends found seats in the middle of class and waited for the professor.

Professor Snape came into the classroom and *like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name.

"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new — celebrity."

Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word — like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. … I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even stopper death— if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence followed this little speech. Harry and Ron exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione Granger was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Powdered root of what to an infusion of what? Harry glanced at Ron, who looked as stumped as he was; Hermione's hand had shot into the air.

"I don't know, sir," said Harry.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer. "Tut, tut — fame clearly isn't everything."*

Now Harry was annoyed. He did not pay for his schooling to be picked on by a professor. He turned away from his notes and caldron and looked directly into Snape's eyes and said. "What is your problem? I know for a fact that that question isn't in the first chapter of the potions' book, nor is it in the second. I'd like to know why you're asking me a question that no one but Hermione seems to know the answer to." He glared at the dark-robed man.

Snape just looked down his nose at the boy who reminded him of his childhood nemesis. "You are just as arrogant as your father. You think you should have special privileges just because you are a Potter and the Boy Who Lived. Did you think you could get away from learning by your fame alone? Did you think you did not have to open a book? Five points from Gryffindor for your cheek," he said and turned away.

"You know as well as the entire British Wizarding World that my father died in 1981 when I was fifteen months old. How would I know what my father was like? And that is not the point. You're a professor; you shouldn't be calling us dunderheads. You shouldn't be pointing out that I'm a celebrity. What you should be doing is teaching us potions. I, for one, think that, because it is our money paying your salary, you should get on with it," Harry said angrily to the man's back, making him turn, and feeling he had made his point, Harry turned himself back to his caldron.

Snape glared angerly at the young boy, then returned to the front of the class and pointed to the blackboard. "You are going to be brewing the potion on the board. The ingredients you need you should have obtained with your school kit. The directions are in your books, as well. What are you waiting for? Get to work," he snapped at the class.

They all jumped and books were opened to the correct page and the students started their potion. Ron grumbled at the lack of directions, and Harry nodded in agreement, getting even livider.

Snape lurked around the classroom, pointing out how well Malfoy had done on his potion and how the Gryffindors were messing theirs up. Then *Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose. "Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. * Then he rounded on Harry and Ron. "You—Potter—why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? Two Points from Gryffindor for trying to look good."

Now Harry was enraged, he slammed his knife down and turned to the irritating man. "I'm sorry, what? Neville is sitting behind me. How am I supposed to brew my potion and watch Neville brew his? You know, I was looking forward to this class, but now I think I am going to go and talk to my Head of House and see why I am paying for such a crappy education." The dark-haired boy took up his books and shoved them in his book bag, and then headed out the door, leaving his equipment behind.

The students looked on in wonder. The Gryffindors were wondering how a teacher could get away with what was happening in this class. The Slytherins were glad the Boy Who Lived was making a fool of himself. They would stand up for Snape.

"If you leave this classroom, I will take twenty-five points from Gryffindor, and you will have detention with me for a week. You are just like your father," Snape shouted to the retreating boy.

"And you are an arrogant bully that doesn't seem to listen," Harry stated over his shoulder as he left the room.

Because it was the last class of the day, Harry figured that Professor McGonagall would be done with her class soon. So, he waited outside the transfiguration classroom. When the class was done and the students had left the classroom, the upset boy headed in.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Potter? And why are you not in class?" Professor McGonagall peered over her glasses, giving Harry a stern look, like she knew he had been up to mischief.

Harry could not figure out why the professor was looking at him in such a way. She was looking at him like he had been getting into trouble all week, and she was expecting that he was the cause of the reason he was here now. "Professor, I would like to make a complaint. Snape…

"Professor Snape," she corrected, looking down her nose at the child. She knew he was going to be just like his father, not even the first week and he was already in trouble.

"…in my first class, asked me a question that I had no way of knowing the answer to." Harry ignored her reprimand.

"And just how do you know it is not on the curriculum?" McGonagall asked.

"I know because I read the first two chapters of my potions book," the messy-haired boy answered. "And when I informed him that I did not know the answer, he belittled me in front of the whole class and took points off for cheek."

"I am sure that you did something to deserve the lost points, Mr. Potter. Your father was very much the same. Professor Snape is not known for taking points away without just cause," she said with a huff.

"Right," Harry said a bit confused. "Anyway, then, without any preparation, set us to brewing a cure for boils. Neville melted his cauldron, which caused him to be covered in the potion he was brewing. And instead of asking if he was okay or treating him for his wounds, Snape berated him by calling him an idiot, then blamed me, stating that I let it happen just to make myself look good, then took points away from Gryffindor. When I stated that I shouldn't have to put up with such abuse and left the classroom, he took more points off and gave me detention," he finished, hoping that she would listen to him, though from the conversation so far, it was a dim wish.

Professor McGonagall continued to look over her glasses at Harry like she was disappointed in him. "What did you do to anger Professor Snape?" she asked, folding her hands and placing them on her desk. "Professor Snape has a hard class and has to be strict so that accidents do not happen. If Mr. Longbottom had done his work correctly, his cauldron would not have melted, and he would not have been hurt. You should not have left the classroom before the bell rang. So, you will just have to do the detention and take the loss of points. I am surprised that you did not take the class seriously. Your mother was quite well versed in potions."

Harry looked at her in shock. He was really starting to regret coming to Hogwarts. Sure it was cool to learn magic and all, but having grown up with little to no personal possessions, he knew that money was something to be valued closely. he didn't think of himself as too frugal, but he did know that money shouldn't be wasted. Why were all the professors comparing him to his parents? While he did want to know more about them, these teachers were not telling him anything except that he fell short of their expectations.

"Um, is there a PTA or something? Maybe a school board that I can write to? Or maybe I could speak to the Headmaster?" Harry asked, hoping that he could solve this problem, since it seemed that the person he was supposed to come to for support wouldn't be helping him. Right, your House is like your family. He was getting the impression that they were very like his… family.

"I do not know what a PTA is, and the Headmaster is far too busy to listen to the complaints of the students. There is a Board of Governors, but why would you write to them? It is not their job to listen to students. That is the job of the Head of Houses," the shocked McGonagall asked, not seeing the problem. She just solved his little issue. How she wished he was more like his mother.

"Thank you for your time, Professor," Harry said as he turned and walked out of the classroom, not really believing what he was hearing. This is what he was paying for? He needed to write a letter, and then he needed to make a plan. He knew it probably wouldn't work. If he were to go to the PTA in the Muggle World, they would defer him to his aunt, who was on the PTA, so that never worked. But his aunt wasn't here now, so maybe if he got everyone to tell their parents... his mind reeled with plans.

It was after dinner the next day that Harry stood up and went to the Head table. He turned and looked out to the students' tables and yelled, "Can I have everyone's attention, please?"

Only a few of the students seemed to hear him, but they nudged their neighbors, and everyone's attention was gradually turning toward the Head Table.

The Professors were curious about what the first year was up to. Snape was looking at him with distaste. He knew the boy was arrogant, and that impression got worse when the child didn't show up for his detention. The Potion Professor stood and yelled at Harry, "Ten points from Gryffindor for disturbing dinner! You are just like your father, thinking that you can get away with breaking the rules just to get attention. Do not think you are getting away with not attending you detention."

Harry looked at the Headmaster and his Head of House, waiting for one of them to interfere. He waited in vain.

They were looking on, but did nothing to deter Snape.

The preteen shook his head and turned back to the students. "Does anyone know a spell that will let everyone hear me?" he asked looking to the Ravenclaw table.

One of the seventh year Ravenclaws came up to the front and cast the Sonorus spell on him. Then he went back to his seat and waited to see what the Boy Who Lived had to say.

"Thanks," Harry said with a nod. "I have been here for one week, and I would like to say that I am very disappointed by the fact that my money is being spent on a faulty school. Here is a letter I have written to the Board of Governors'. If you are smart, you will have your parents or guardians write a letter as well.

"'To Whom It May Concern:

I am a first year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and I wish to tell you that, if this is the education I am paying for, I would like to withdraw and get a full refund. I will look to other schools. Perhaps, I will get the education I pay for.

You are the Board of Governors of this school; it is your job to make sure that we are getting properly educated. We are not.

You have a ghost teaching outdated history classes that very few pay attention to. Is he being paid? Because if he is, you are wasting my tuition. You have a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor that stutters so badly that we can't understand him. You have a Potions professor that not only belittles the class in his opening speech, but doesn't teach them how to brew the potions he requests. He simply writes the directions on the board and tells us to sink or swim. And when one of his students does sink, he puts the blame on another student instead of showing the student what they did wrong.

When I took my complaints to my Head of House, I was told that it was the fault of the students for not listening. No investigation was made. No questions were asked. Nothing was said about the unfair treatment that the students received in class or the points that were deducted. When I asked to see the Headmaster I was informed that he was too busy for students.

Because this was the first step in the chain of command at the school, and I was shot down before I even started, I am writing to you.

I also wanted to point out that in the opening speech of the Headmaster's we were told there was something in this school that would kill us. I wish to be in a school that I can safely walk around and explore. I shouldn't, as a child, have to look out for my own safety in a place that I am going to be boarded in for almost ten months of the year.

I will be telling all of the students that they should write to their parents as well and inform them that they are wasting their money and should also look elsewhere.

Thank you for your time. You can send my refund to Gringotts.

Sincerely,

Harry James Potter'

I have already sent this letter to the Board and encourage you to do the same." He tucked the copy back in his robes.

The students and professors looked at him in shock. The Boy Who Lived would really leave Hogwarts? Whispers started as the students talked about if they should too. They were in agreement that the standards of the classes had fallen. History and DADA was a joke, and they were verbally abused by the Potions Master.

The Headmaster stood up, and with that grandfatherly disappointed look, he addressed the boy standing in front of the table, "Harry, I am sorry but you cannot leave the school. I am your magical guardian, and I forbid it."

Harry turned and gaped at the old man. "What is a magical guardian? And if you were any sort of good guardian, magical or otherwise, you would support me in getting a good education and not treat me like I am the one at fault here," the messy-haired child said, completely flabbergasted. He had to wonder where had Dumbledore been all these years. The man just stated he was a guardian of some sort, and if he wanted to keep Harry at Hogwarts, what was his plan? He narrowed his eyes and looked at the man.

"Harry, Hogwarts is the premier school in all of Great Britain. You will not find a better education than you will here," Dumbledore said, letting his voice carry through the entire hall so that the students would hear his opinion. Everyone knew that his words were like the Word of God, or so he believed.

"Then I will go back to the Muggle World and take my chances. I will not pay for a school that condones bullying by a professor and does not support the students," the boy stated firmly and folded his arms in defiance.

"We do listen to you, my boy," the Headmaster stated with those thrice-damn twinkling eyes.

Harry went on, "What qualifications do your professors have? Out of the six classes I have, only three have shown they are qualified to teach. In the Muggle World, teachers have to go to school for years to get the qualifications to teach children, and they are not allowed to abuse their position. They are paid to teach. If Professor Snape has been teaching that way since he signed on, I have to wonder how many students have been hurt. If he were teaching in the Muggle World, he would not have lasted a single year. I am surprised that no one has complained about him before. And if they have, why has nothing been done about it? We are paying his salary. Why doesn't anyone understand that?" he asked, turning to the students, hoping they would hear what he was saying and start questioning what was going on in this school.

The murmuring started again.

"Professor Snape has my complete trust, Harry," the twinkle-eyed Headmaster stated as if that should settle the boy's problems.

"That doesn't answer my question. I asked what his qualifications are." Harry demanded vehemently, turning angrily back to the Head Table.

"Professor Snape is one of the youngest Potion Masters in centuries."

"Well, that's great. How does that qualify him to teach children? If I was to get on to the Quidditch team in my first year, making me one of the youngest players in centuries, would that qualify me to teach Quidditch? No. I would have to go through training in order to become a Quidditch coach. Just because someone is good at something, doesn't mean they can teach it," Harry stated firmly.

"You should respect your professors, young man," the old man said sternly.

"Why? I stood up here to tell the students something, and he stood up and took points for something that is not against any rules and called me a defamatory name, yet you and my Head of House sat and did nothing." Harry asked as the whole school looked on and listened. "If this is the treatment I'm going to get, why should I stay?"

The Muggle-born and -raised were realizing that Harry was correct. They had been so caught up in the wonders of the new world, which they had forgotten that their parents were paying for this. And not one of them disagreed on the fact that Snape was not a great professor.

Even the Slytherins were secretly agreeing. If it were not for self-study, they also would not be doing well in that class. Snape might compliment them and degrade the rest, but that was not helping them to learn anything.

Many of the half-bloods and pure-bloods also knew that their parents were paying for this, but because their parents went to this school, they figured that this was pretty much as good as it got.

"Harry, my boy, let's take this to my office. Let me cancel that spell. Finite," the old man said as he pointed to the boy's throat. Then much more quietly he stated. "Now, Harry, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape, if you will follow me." He raised voice and addressed the Great Hall, "Students, please return to your meals. If you are done, you may leave." He stood to lead the way to his office.

The other three followed the Headmaster until he reached the gargoyle that guarded his office. After he gave the password, they rode the winding stairs, and then they all filed in. The Headmaster took his seat behind his desk, the two professors moved to stand behind him and Harry sat on one of the chairs in front of the desk.

Harry looked around the office. It was colorful and full of many moving trinkets. There were portraits of people staring down at him, they all looked old. He wondered who they were. Turning back to face the Headmaster and professors, he waited to see what they had to say.

The Headmaster broke the silence first. "Harry, I am very disappointed in you. Why did you send a letter to the Board instead of coming to me first?" he asked, looking over his glasses and folding his hands over his beard.

"You should ask Professor McGonagall." He waved his arm to the professor, whose lips all but disappeared. "I went to her after my first potions class and was told that everything that had happened in that class was the students' fault and that the Headmaster and the Board had no time to listen to students complaints. She did not ask any other students that were in the class if what I said was true or not. The blame was automatically placed on Neville and me," Harry stated, grumpily crossing his arms across his chest and thumping back into his seat.

He wasn't going to be intimidated by this man or Snape. If he could stand up to his Uncle Vernon, he could stand up to these people. If there was one thing his childhood had taught him, it was to never give into bullies, no matter what form they took.

"He is just like his father, always trying to get people in trouble with his pitiful excuses. He will never live up to his mother, and, though I loath to say it, even his father was smarter than this little brat." Snape sneered, looking down his long hook nose at Harry.

Harry waited. And waited. And for two minutes, nothing was said. "This is why I wrote to the Board, and this is why I am looking to take my education elsewhere." He waved his hand in the vile man's direction. "This is why I told the students what I am doing. This man, who looks to be in his thirties, is belittling an eleven-year-old boy whom he has met once. Yet you two, who are above him in office, are sitting there and letting him do it. I want a way home. I will be withdrawing from this school. If you don't put your students above all else, you are not doing your job," Harry said, slouching back in his chair and pouting.

"I am afraid I cannot let you leave Hogwarts, Harry. There is no better school for you," the old man reiterated, "and this is the safest place for you to be educated. As your magical guardian, I must insist that you remain here," he said calmly.

"So my concerns mean nothing," the boy asked flabbergasted. "I want to ask, if I were any other student, would we be sitting here right now?"

"I am not the magical guardian of any other student," was the gentile answer.

"Right," Harry scoffed, not believing him for a second. He leaned forward and tapped his finger on the desk. "I want to tell you right now, that if you force me to stay in this school, I will do nothing in class. I will dispute any house points removed from me. I will not attend any detention I do not earn. I will write to the Board weekly with progress reports. If I don't get a response from them, I will find a way to get my story heard in the papers. I will encourage the students to do the same. I shouldn't be forced to stay where I don't feel I am being treated properly." His threats were very clear as he punctuated them with a tap.

The adults looked like they had been smacked. Who did this child think he was to make such threats?

"As for you being my magical guardian," the child continued, "I want to see it in writing, and I want a definition as to what your role is in my life. I have never met you before today, and if you are any type of guardian, I should have known you all my life. Or, at the very least, you should have been the one to introduce me to the Wizarding World. So, I say you are not really doing your job," he said, fed up with the way he was being side-lined.

"Mr. Potter, you will show the Headmaster some respect," Professor McGonagall snapped.

"I have not disrespected the Headmaster. I am simply stating the facts as I see them," Harry stated with a look of resignation. He was starting to realize he would probably have to make good on his threats.

"What can we do to make it so that you don't feel as if you have to leave Hogwarts, Harry?" the Headmaster asked, serenely ignoring the by-play.

"You can either make the professors teach correctly, or you can replace them. In Charms, Herbology, and Transfigurations, we were taught the theory behind these arts. We were told what would happen if we did something wrong. We were given basic safety protocols. In Potions, we were told the directions were on the board and to get started. No instructions or directions on how to cut or stir. No precautions or safety. Nothing telling us what would happen if we didn't take the caldron off the heat before adding the quills. Just get started," the child said, waving about his hands in agitation.

"If you would simply read the book then you would be able to follow the directions," the Potions Master sneered, not about to let this upstart child tell him how to instruct his class.

"That is not teaching, and it is very dangerous, as someone in my first class proved. Besides, I read the first two chapters of my book; I can tell you that nothing is stated there either. I spent two galleons on that book; it should be more informative. But I figured that, perhaps, these things would be taught to us by a competent professor. I was wrong," Harry said with nothing but contempt on his face, looking directly at Snape to make sure he knew how he felt about the potions class.

"It is not my fault that you are too much of a dunderhead to follow simple instructions," Snape scoffed, ignoring the fact that Harry had completed his potion without mishap.

Harry ignored him. "My parents left me money for my education, and I do know the value of a pound, or galleon as the case may be. And I know my money is not being well spent here. We have to buy our own equipment and books, as well as pay tuition. I would think that we should have at least competent professors," he argued back, staring straight at Snape, making it very clear that he found the school lacking.

That caused the two teachers to glare, McGonagall opened her mouth to protest, but Harry plowed on.

"I wonder if the Wizarding World has to live up to the standards of the Muggle World. I wonder if I should write to the Prime Minister and ask him to look that up. Because I can tell you, right now, that your school falls far below the standards of Muggle state schools—and those are free. We are paying for this, and that includes the meals, the up keep for the castle, and professors' salaries. We should be getting a higher standard of education from here than the schools we wouldn't have to pay for," he stated, feeling that he needed to get his point across. He really didn't want to leave Hogwarts, but was going to stand by his beliefs.

"I am afraid that I would have to decline your requests, Harry. I am the Headmaster of this school, and it is up to me to set the standards. I feel that they are just fine, right where they are. I also will decline your request for information on magical guardians, as I feel you are too young to worry about that right now. Now, you should return to your common room and start on your homework, and do not forget that you have detention with Professor Snape this evening, as well as for the rest of the week," Dumbledore said as he made shooing motions towards Harry.

Snape sneered at the boy, knowing that the Headmaster had won this round and put that brat in his place.

Harry stared at him with great disbelief. They really were not going to listen to a word he had said. They were going to try to make him attend a detention that he didn't earn. Nothing was going to be done. Harry shook his head and left the office, then made his way to the common room. Maybe the students would listen to him.

Hphphp

If you want to take this concept and run with it be my guest. Just drop me a link, my email is on my profile, since ffn doesn't allow links in their pms. I hope you enjoy the next chapter.