Harry groaned as the potion bubbled and failed once more. A hiss filled the air as if a rattlesnake were nearby, and he jumped back as some of the liquid leaped to the ceiling of the dungeons. He heard Snape point his wand and mutter something before it dissipated. 

“What did I do wrong this time?” He asked. 

“You stirred the wrong way, Harry.” Snape replied. 

“You said counter clockwise!” Harry protested. 

“Counter clockwise unless the potion begins shaking and trembling, in which case you must add in three more toad eyes.” Snape responded. 

Harry sighed. He had thought potions would be the easiest subject. It was just throwing random ingredients into a pot and stirring. Or so he thought. It had more in common with chemistry than he may have believed, but it was so much harder. The wizarding world had so many ingredients, all of which reacted differently given the combinations of materials and stirring patterns Harry used. Even the heat of the cauldron had to be changed every minute! 

The basic potions were not so difficult. Throw in a few random things, pour water, and he would be finished. If only it stayed that way. 

In advanced potion making, it was so much more complicated. Every action held meaning, be it the stirring pattern and direction of Harry’s spoon or heat of the fire. Certain ingredients had to be added at different times based on the potion, and even that could change if Harry made a single slip up. 

The most infuriating part was that slip ups were so common that they were expected. A second’s difference between adding an ingredient or putting out the fire could mean success or failure for the potion, and even a moment’s lapse of concentration could have devastating effects. One time, Harry had been a minute away from finishing a stamina potion before it exploded from him adding an ingredient. Not to the wrong one either, just ten seconds too early! 

Mistakes costed Harry, and not just in terms of gold either. If he added a certain ingredient a second later than he should have the potion’s quality would plummet. What should have revived a man half dead would only heal a scrape on their knee. To fix that he would have to use more ingredients to “calm” the potion down and “revitalize” it, in Snape’s words. But doing so meant time, resources, and worst of all, even more mistakes. 

Snape wasn’t about to waste time and money on Harry either. If he used up resources to brew a potion, Snape would take it to sell it and recover what gold Harry lost from using the ingredients. Often, that meant hours brewing mundane and basic bottles of magic water. During that time, Snape would of course brew his own. 

Harry couldn’t help but feel jealousy when he saw Snape bottling potion after potion with spotless precision before stuffing them on a rack. Meanwhile, Harry made every possible mistake there could be and had to restart. What took Snape minutes took Harry hours, and he almost thought of quitting. But if he did, there would be nothing to do except stare at Snape, and Harry wanted nothing more than to wipe that superior sneer off his greasy face. 

But Harry was a new potioneer and Snape was a master of the trade, and the differences were clear as night and day. Where Snape’s movements were little more than muscle memory, Harry struggled. When he thought a potion a success Snape chided at his failure. That was not even mentioning the increasing debt Harry had brought upon himself with usage of expensive ingredients. This was of course, all while Snape took baths in gold. 

Harry even remembered remarking about the value of the potions he had made once. “Come on now, Professor. I’m willing to bet that I have brewed enough potions to buy Hogwarts already.” 

To which Snape had responded, “And you’ve cost me enough to buy it twice, Harry.” That had shut him up. 

Whether or not it was true, Harry was not determined to find out. It very well could have been, potions sold for more than the cost of their ingredients. That is, if the potion maker was skilled enough to not botch every other attempt. Harry could not manage it yet, but he promised himself that he would try. 

So he tried, and when he failed tried some more. He memorized recipes during the day and practiced at noon, pestering Snape with questions whenever he was available. At night he brewed and brewed until he could buy himself a house and woke up early the next day to lose it all. He kept on losing money, until he stopped.