Proffesor Snape turned and stared at Harry, one eyebrow raised. "Mr. Potter! Are you paying attention?" "Y-Yes, Proffesor." "Tell me what would you get if I asked you to add powdered root of Asphodel to an infusion of Wormwood?" Snape asked, knowing that the first year wouldn't know the answer. "I-I don't kn-know Sir." Harry said, his throat tightening severely. "Very well, Mr. Potter, where would you go if I asked you to get a Bezoar?" "I-I s-suppose t-the supply c-closet, P-Proffessor" Harry said, his heart racing and his breathing becoming shallow. "I-what?" Snape asked, not expecting this answer from a Gryffindor. "Th-the s-supply c-closet, Sir?" Harry repeated. "Well... umm yes, technically, but if I didn't have one then where would you go to get one?" "Th-the s-store s-sir?" Harry asked trying to think of a suitable answer. "Think Potter. Where does a bezoar come from?" "I d-don't know sir!" Harry cried, tears prickling his eyes. "And what is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?" Snape asked. "I-I don't know, Sir" Snape stepped closer to Harry, who in return flinched away. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so power-" Snape stopped talking as Harry quickly wrote down every word the man was saying. "What are you doing?" "Ta-Taking N-Notes Proffesor." Harry said, quietly. "Is that what you were doing before?" Snape asked, surprised. "Y-Yes, Sir." "Hmm..." Snape hummed "Five points to Gryffindor." the class gasped and stared at the Proffesor "And see me after class, P-Harry." "Y-Yes, sir."