Harry Riddle || Harry potter

Chapter 9: The Gringotts Mystery

Harry and Draco sat side by side in the front row of the dungeon potions classroom (on the Slytherin side, of course). It was fairly early in their very first day, and they'd only had Transfigurations class so far. McGonagall had not been pleasant, but even Harry had to admit that watching her turn herself into a cat, then back into a human, and then transfigure random objects all around the room into other, drastically different things was a bit entertaining.

After they'd been dismissed, they'd all tromped down to Slytherin territory, the dungeons, and watched happily as the Gryffindors became a bit nervous, whispering to each other that Snape was rumored to be strict and that their older siblings had told horror stories about him.

Both Harry and Draco grinned as the classroom door was abruptly flung open, hitting the wall with an extremely loud bang that echoed throughout the room and made most of the Gryffindors start. Professor Severus Snape stormed in, robes billowing out behind him. A large, light tan and black dog with alert ears, a bushy tail, and bright grey eyes trailed behind him, sniffing the floor and wagging its tail slightly.

Severus leaned back against his desk, managing to look threatening without even moving. The grey eyed dog meandered around the room, avoiding the Gryffindor side even though some of the girls reached out to pet her.

"You are here to learn the subtle science of potion making," the dark eyed professor began quietly. His voice was no louder than a whisper, but the whole class could hear him. The Gryffindors seemed to be getting intimidated, while the Slytherins listened attentively, completely calm. Strict as he was, it was no secret that Professor Snape blatantly favored his own House and therefore never took points from any Slytherin during his class, no matter how horribly they bungled a potion. On the other hand, when in the dungeons, it was open season on Gryffindors, who were routinely insulted, belittled, and severely punished for mistakes.

"As there is little foolish wand waving here," he continued, "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 the human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses . . . I can teach you how to bottle frame, brew glory, even stopper death-if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Most of the Gryffindors exchanged bemused glances, while Harry got the impression that Hermione would've just loved that speech had she been present.

Snape suddenly snapped a question at an unlucky Gryffindor by the name of Dean Thomas: "Mr. Thomas, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

The Gryffindor looked a bit shocked, then befuddled. "I - I don't know, s- sir."

"Hmm. It seems that bravery does not necessarily equal brains."

The Slytherins snickered, earning them glares from the other side of the room.

"Weasley!" Snape snapped.

A Gryffindor redheaded boy gulped. "Yes, P- Professor?"

"If I told you to find me a bezoar, where would you look?"

The boy seemed to grasp for words, while Snape tapped his booted foot against the stone floor impatiently.

"I- I'm not sure," was Weasley's eventual reply.

"Well, well, well. We seem to have a bit of a trend here. What is the difference, Patil, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Parvati Patil was yet another Gryffindor. She bit her lip for a few seconds before stuttering out, "I- I'm not sure of the difference, sir."