Snape looked coolly over his desk.

Neville Longbottom was being a twit again. He had been stuttering and twitching about his full marks for an Herbology pop quiz. He was so preoccupied he hadn't noticed what he was adding to his cauldron. Instead of his potion fizzing pink and then fading to a deep magenta as it should, it emitted a flume of orange mist, the liquid itself turning a vomitous yellow.

Neville and the unfortunate Miss Hermione Granger had inhaled some of the mist and were turning the same yellowy shade of the liquid, looking jaundiced from head to toe. Neville began to sob immediately.

The potion they had been working on was a rather complex one. Even those who got the ingredients correct might boil it one second too long and it would lose its potency. If perfected it was a powerful anti-depressent capable of creating a warm pleasant sensation in the consumer of the potion.

Even Snape however, had failed to make the potion at its proper potency. HIs doses fell short of the mark. Since it was a rther new development though, he felt villified. The technique had to be at fault if it was too difficult for even Potion's Master Snape.

All the same he now had a sobbing yellow curmudgeon sitting across from him, too afraid to speak and biting his lower lip.

At least the only effect the potion had had on the boy and Granger was the altered skin tone. If Madame Pomfrey couldn't return them to their normally peachy hue they would simply fade back to it within a few days time.

The truth was, there wasn't enough harm done to warrant any sort of action but a firm talking to. If Neville continued to botch his potions much worse than yellow flesh could ensue. One wrong ingredient, one fouled up step could equal death with some of the potions thay had been working on, especially the experimental potions Snape had allowed the highly advanced students to work on.

Snape would never touch a potion Neville had made, let alone allow someone else to test it one themselves (unless it was that wretched toad, Trevor). But as he sat, glaring at the twittering boy he remembered Hagrid's words about the boy being too timid. Yet he quickly brushed the thought away. The boy simply had to get a backbone, it wasn't his problem.

But because Hagrid had been so sincere, Snape made an honest effort to be accomadating to Neville's already frayed nerves. He proceeded to give him an hour long lecture on care and proper procedure when handling and mixing potions.

Neville, truly surprised that Professor Snape was not screamig and was not threatening to fail him, was listening attentively to every word.

When Severus had finished he nodded gruffly, "you should apologize to Miss Granger and see if Madame Pomfrey could do something about that." He finished pointing at Neville's mustard yellow head.

The boy nodded nervously, nearly tripped over his feet while walking to the door and barely managed to turn the doorknob.

Perhaps, Snape thought, he won't need another chance after this. Maybe now he'll get it right.

To be Continued in Episode Eighty