Some day, this will be a "Last.fm/NetFlix/Amazon for web fiction" (both original and fanfiction) where you can search across many different hosting sites or rate what you've read and get recommendations. However, life keeps throwing more urgent projects my way, so I don't know when it'll be ready.
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/13230340/7/"Potter, stay behind," Professor Snape instructed, as they were packing up. "I want a word."
"Yes, Sir," Harry agreed promptly, thinking quickly over the schedule. He'd planned to go up and get started on the Potions homework straight after the lesson, but since the homework had turned out to be prep for the next lesson it would arguably be better done on Thursday evening if possible.
At the Potions teacher's words, Draco and his friends (Vincent and Gregory, if Harry remembered right) all sniggered on their way past and out the door.
Once the rest of the class had left, Professor Snape approached Harry's desk.
"Mr. Potter," he began. "I have been teaching Potions at this school for many years, but never have I seen anything quite so foolish as a student eating Potions ingredients."
Harry tilted his head a little. "I'm sorry, Sir? I usually eat the leftover ingredients when I cook."
Professor Snape blinked. "When you… cook."
"Yes, Sir," Harry agreed. "My Aunt and Uncle expect me to cook, and I think they try to not give me enough, but it doesn't work because I can eat the eggshells and packaging and stuff and that fills me up."
"Your… Aunt," Professor Snape repeated. "Mr. Potter, are you saying that you have been cared for the last few years by Petunia Evans and her oaf of a husband?"
Harry nodded. "If that's what she was called before she married Uncle Vernon. But they haven't been all that bad, because… well, since I turned into a dragon I think they couldn't find a way to make it awful for me."
He frowned. "Hold on, how do you know my Aunt's name?"
"That is none of your business, Mr. Potter," Professor Snape told him. "But, for your information, you should not eat or drink anything in a Potions laboratory because of the serious risk that it is contaminated and may be toxic. I do not care if you have not suffered a toxic reaction before because you are a dragon, this is something you should not do."
"Okay, Professor," Harry said, nodding. "Sorry about that. Do you have any tips on how I could avoid the temptation?"
"I am not your nutritional consultant, Mr. Potter," Professor Snape told him. "Since the rest of your year, and all the other years in Hogwarts, have managed to refrain from eating potions ingredients for the last decade then it should not tax you to do the same."
Harry considered that, and nodded again. "All right, Professor. I'll do my best."
Professor Snape frowned, examining Harry's expression, then seemed to accept (possibly on guesswork) that the Gryffindor had been sincere.
"Another question, Mr. Potter," he said. "You mentioned turning into a dragon, and of course I can see that you are now. But how did this come about?"
"I'm sorry, Professor, I don't really remember," Harry admitted, wings twitching slightly. He raised a talon to his muzzle, scratching absently as he thought. "It was kind of a long time ago… it was after I'd gone to school for the first time, but not long afterwards."
Harry waited to see if Professor Snape had any further questions. His face had gone an odd colour and he was muttering things about 'legacy' and 'delayed Charms' to himself, and after what he thought was an appropriate length of time Harry raised his forepaw.
"Can I go, Sir?"
"What?" Professor Snape asked. "Yes. Of course you can go!"
It was nice to have a teacher so concerned with his well-being.
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