𝔖𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔶 𝔯𝔢𝔭𝔢𝔞𝔱 𝔦𝔱𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣 | 𝐇𝐏 ʷᵗᵐ

𝟎𝟏𝟓; ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏᴛɪᴏɴ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀ

POTION LESSONS TOOK place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the register, and like Flitwick, he paused at Coventina's name.

"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Coventina Potter. Our new - celebrity." Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands.

"What the..." Lily mumbles.

"Damn asholle, what happen Snivellus? Could not handle getting reject, could you?" Sirius smirk, yet his tone was full of disdain.

"Shut up Black!"

"You, shut up, Snape." Regulus says firmly as he glares at Severus, daring
him to continue.

"And he is gagged." Rabastan smirk.

"He has something sticking up his arse or what?" Aelora raise a brow while he glares at Snape. She wants to strangle him till he lay dead on the ground.

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, even stopper death- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

"Happy to not have him as a teacher in here." A Slytherin whisper.

More silence followed this little speech. Aelora and Anastacius 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.

"That girl, I swear."

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

"Wait! That's not a first year's question!" Peter catches on and complains.

"He is right." McGonagall shake her head in disappointed while Severus gritted his teeth.

Hermione's hand had shot into the air.

"If you did combine Powdered Root of Asphodel and an infusion of Wormwood, you'd brew a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death." She answered.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer. He ignored Hermione's hand. "Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat.

Coventina smirk lazily, "A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons, professor." Anastacius let out an amuse sound.