Double Potions with Slytherin was always bad. It was the worst part of any
Gryffindor's week. But during the dead of winter, it became a weekly
torture session. Not only was the dungeon where Professor Snape held his
classes unheated and open, but also, he insisted on constantly finding new
reasons to take points from Gryffindor. Even that wouldn't be too bad if
they could just daydream or doze off in his class as many of the students
did in other classes such as History of Magic. But no, not in Snape's
class. If caught so much as letting your eyes wander to your watch, you
could expect at least ten points to be taken away and depending on what
kind of mood Snape was in, perhaps even a detention.
Of course, that was only if you were in Gryffindor. If you were in Slytherin, on the other hand, you could get away with pretty much anything. Not so much as a half of a point had been taken away from a Slytherin during Potions this year. This being true, Slytherin students spent most of their time in Potions taunting the Gryffindors and the Gryffindors spent most of their time copying note with their heads down to avoid doing something that they would regret.
This winter, thought, it was different. The temperatures had hit a record breaking low and Snape had spent the last seven lessons making them write notes on the fifty uses of dragon dung until the student's ink froze over and their fingers were numb. By the time that the eighth lesson had rolled around, they had already copied five feet of notes and had just about had it with the ignored taunts and jeers from across the room. As the students slowly trudged into class, three slowly made there was to the back, lugging their caldron behind them. One was a boy who had vibrant red hair, freckles, and a black, rather worn out, but still warm cloak on over his robes. Next came a girl who was slightly taller than the boy ahead of her. She too wore a cloak, and her bushy hair was pulled into a simple bun. The other boy had messy, jet black hair and a lightning shaped scar on his forehead. The went to the table as far back as they could, but that wasn't far because all of the far back seats had been taken.
"Do we have to sit right in the middle?" The red head grumbled as he slid into his seat. "Ron, there aren't any seats in the back." The girl chattered as she pulled her jacket closer in a vain attempt to save some of her body heat. "Hermione," the second boy began, "why do we need our caldron?" "Do you ever pay attention, Harry? Snape said that we were going to try a stronger sleeping potion today." Hermione replied as she rolled her eyes.
The three pulled out their ingredients then sat down, waiting for their Professor. Five long (and cold) minutes later Snape burst into the room, a particularly surly and unpleasant look on his face. His request to have Potter taken off of the Quiddich team due to "excessive happiness" had been refused (again), so needless to say, he wasn't in the best mood.
"You have exactly one hour to finish your sleeping potion and the counter potion. Get to it." He said in a quiet voice that had something of an edge to it that suggested that anyone who decided to talk out in his class could expect detention for the rest of his or her life.
Nothing interesting happened for the first half hour or so. The three friends worked in silence (except when Hermione turned to help either Harry or Ron) and even the Slytherin's kept to themselves. Snape spent his time glaring over his hooked nose at Harry and mentally grumbling about "Potter's cheeky attitude".
Things finally came to a boil when Snape noticed Hermione trying to help magically thicken Harry's potion. He almost, *almost* smirked as he realized that this was his chance and quickly walked over in front of their heating caldrons.
"Miss Granger, how many times have I told you not to help Potter; ten points from Gryffindor. Mr. Potter, what have we here." The Professor hissed as he looked down and the soupy mixture that was coming to a boil. Addressing the class, Snape began to speak again:
"Potter has forgotten how to do the simplest of potions. Perhaps he should be put with the first years!" Laughter erupted from the Slytherin side of the room as Snape continued. "Anyone can see that Potter here wasn't paying attention. Your attention is your most powerful tool, though some never learn to use it. To become a great wizard you must be finely tuned in to the world around you. Take me for example I can tell you everything that is happening in this room right now. Why? Because I pay attention."
"Excuse me Professor." Harry started.
"Silence!" Snape command. "You will not interrupt me, it will not be tolerated. As I was saying, you must always be aware of what is happening at all times. I could tell what is happening at my own feet or across the room. I know what you are going to say. You will say that I have said this before. Unfortunately, I need to repeat myself several times for those who do not pay attention." At this, he shot a withering glance in Harry's direction.
"Uh. Professor. . ." Harry tried one last time.
"I TOLD YOU TO BE QUIET!! Unfortunately, your hearing skills are worse than your attentiveness. Regrettably, there is no hope of you ever becoming as attuned to your surroundings as I am to mine. And furthermore, if you try and interrupt me again, you will have detention until this building rots." Snape finished with a triumphantly.
"Professor, I was just trying to tell you that your robes are on fire."
Of course, that was only if you were in Gryffindor. If you were in Slytherin, on the other hand, you could get away with pretty much anything. Not so much as a half of a point had been taken away from a Slytherin during Potions this year. This being true, Slytherin students spent most of their time in Potions taunting the Gryffindors and the Gryffindors spent most of their time copying note with their heads down to avoid doing something that they would regret.
This winter, thought, it was different. The temperatures had hit a record breaking low and Snape had spent the last seven lessons making them write notes on the fifty uses of dragon dung until the student's ink froze over and their fingers were numb. By the time that the eighth lesson had rolled around, they had already copied five feet of notes and had just about had it with the ignored taunts and jeers from across the room. As the students slowly trudged into class, three slowly made there was to the back, lugging their caldron behind them. One was a boy who had vibrant red hair, freckles, and a black, rather worn out, but still warm cloak on over his robes. Next came a girl who was slightly taller than the boy ahead of her. She too wore a cloak, and her bushy hair was pulled into a simple bun. The other boy had messy, jet black hair and a lightning shaped scar on his forehead. The went to the table as far back as they could, but that wasn't far because all of the far back seats had been taken.
"Do we have to sit right in the middle?" The red head grumbled as he slid into his seat. "Ron, there aren't any seats in the back." The girl chattered as she pulled her jacket closer in a vain attempt to save some of her body heat. "Hermione," the second boy began, "why do we need our caldron?" "Do you ever pay attention, Harry? Snape said that we were going to try a stronger sleeping potion today." Hermione replied as she rolled her eyes.
The three pulled out their ingredients then sat down, waiting for their Professor. Five long (and cold) minutes later Snape burst into the room, a particularly surly and unpleasant look on his face. His request to have Potter taken off of the Quiddich team due to "excessive happiness" had been refused (again), so needless to say, he wasn't in the best mood.
"You have exactly one hour to finish your sleeping potion and the counter potion. Get to it." He said in a quiet voice that had something of an edge to it that suggested that anyone who decided to talk out in his class could expect detention for the rest of his or her life.
Nothing interesting happened for the first half hour or so. The three friends worked in silence (except when Hermione turned to help either Harry or Ron) and even the Slytherin's kept to themselves. Snape spent his time glaring over his hooked nose at Harry and mentally grumbling about "Potter's cheeky attitude".
Things finally came to a boil when Snape noticed Hermione trying to help magically thicken Harry's potion. He almost, *almost* smirked as he realized that this was his chance and quickly walked over in front of their heating caldrons.
"Miss Granger, how many times have I told you not to help Potter; ten points from Gryffindor. Mr. Potter, what have we here." The Professor hissed as he looked down and the soupy mixture that was coming to a boil. Addressing the class, Snape began to speak again:
"Potter has forgotten how to do the simplest of potions. Perhaps he should be put with the first years!" Laughter erupted from the Slytherin side of the room as Snape continued. "Anyone can see that Potter here wasn't paying attention. Your attention is your most powerful tool, though some never learn to use it. To become a great wizard you must be finely tuned in to the world around you. Take me for example I can tell you everything that is happening in this room right now. Why? Because I pay attention."
"Excuse me Professor." Harry started.
"Silence!" Snape command. "You will not interrupt me, it will not be tolerated. As I was saying, you must always be aware of what is happening at all times. I could tell what is happening at my own feet or across the room. I know what you are going to say. You will say that I have said this before. Unfortunately, I need to repeat myself several times for those who do not pay attention." At this, he shot a withering glance in Harry's direction.
"Uh. Professor. . ." Harry tried one last time.
"I TOLD YOU TO BE QUIET!! Unfortunately, your hearing skills are worse than your attentiveness. Regrettably, there is no hope of you ever becoming as attuned to your surroundings as I am to mine. And furthermore, if you try and interrupt me again, you will have detention until this building rots." Snape finished with a triumphantly.
"Professor, I was just trying to tell you that your robes are on fire."