Work Text:
Horace was just preparing to leave the dungeons when a familiar wizard decided to enter his Potions classroom with a friendly presence.
"Ah! Albus." Horace continued to gather his notes before he glanced distractedly at the Headmaster of Hogwarts. "What brings you to the deepest, darkest dungeons?" he asked in amusement.
The Headmaster studied Horace carefully as he stepped around tables, his steps slow and his gaze studying the classroom sharply.
"Quite a collection of Potions you have here, Horace."
Horace stopped piling the homework his students had given him to look at his guest quizzically. "Yes, well... It is Potions, after all.” He laughed nervously. “It would be unusual not to exhibit Potions that students should strive to master."
Albus simply nodded before he stepped in front of the large cupboard that housed most of the dangerous Potions that Horace had already prepared for teaching purposes, his eyebrows knotted together in thought.
"Is there something I can help you with, Albus?"
Albus didn't raise his head from the Potions he studied, nor did he answer the question. "Is it true that you are working with students to alter existing Potions?"
Horace immediately found it difficult to breath. He even pulled out a handkerchief to mop his sweating brow, wondering vaguely if he had somehow done something against the school rules. "Yes. I suppose. It's not dangerous," he added quickly. "If anything, I believe it is a well-earned opportunity to learn." As Albus continued to stare down the cauldrons, Horace found his nervousness increasing with each passing second. "There are quite a few talented students; in sixth year, especially. Evans has a knack for brewing Potions while Goldstein seems to have the most interesting ideas."
Albus finally turned to look at him. "Ideas like having a Draught of Living Death that is immune to the Wiggenweld Potion?"
At that, Horace paused. "W-Why, yes. How did-?"
"Minerva confiscated a vial from a student this evening after he had tried to poison another student and failed.”
“Merlin! Is the student all right?”
“I should hope so. What would have happened if the Potion had been used successfully?”
Horace mopped his brow again. “Well, if it had been successful, then I suppose the sleeper would never be able to wake up.” His eyes met Albus’ fearfully. “Surely, you could see that had I known-“
“Yes,” Albus stated curtly. “I know you wouldn’t have encouraged such behaviour.” He turned to leave.
“Who was it?” Horace asked quickly.
Albus looked at him disappointedly. “You already know who, Horace.”
As soon as the Headmaster left, Horace moved quickly to the stores where he had kept the altered Potion. As expected, a good quantity had gone missing. In a fit of rage he disposed of all his Potions; months of work would have to be put on hold for his mistake. Once he had let himself befriend a student thinking him brilliant; he had no intention of letting Snape help him repeat the one memory he regretted.