A/N: Written in about ten minutes, and beta-ed by MissKass. It was quite awkward before she got onto it, and believe me – she's a babe. Again, please read and review. I have several other similar ideas such as Ron and his reaction to Harry playing Quidditch, Ginny's second year sorting and others!
Hermione beamed with complete assertion that she would not be left behind this year. Since she was very young, she had always been top of her classes throughout primary school, and it wasn't about to be for nothing. It was why she had read all those schoolbooks before she attended. She was sure that all the Pure-blooded students would know most of the things she read; so, she didn't want to make her first impressions of being slow or silly. Neither was very befitting of the young girl.
With unprecedented excitement, she almost floated down the otherwise dreary corridors that lead to Potions classroom number five. As others began to fill up behind her, she smiled happily to herself, recalling the twelve magical properties of dragon's blood and what Dittany was used for. Once she entered the classroom, there was no chance she'd be unprepared.
Their professor approached, an unpleasant man named Professor Snape. He looked down his hooked nose at the small gaggle of Gryffindor students, and then appraised the Slytherins with much more obvious approval. He had been a Slytherin himself, so it only made sense. She plucked her books from her bag, along with several other smaller notebooks, which held her own personal notes for the subject. With a casual glance around the room, some people did not even have their textbooks out yet.
As the Professor took the register, Hermione was a little abashed as he paused at Harry's name and sniped a mocking little jibe at him. For a brief moment she was shocked and disapproving of this, but decided that perhaps it was simply a joke. Perhaps they might know one another, even if the tone did not suggest so.
But before she could send scathing glares at the boys still sniggering about Professor Snape's unfunny joke she felt this disapproval melt away. She had missed the first few words of his introduction to the class! After a short, frantic search for a quill, she found one nestled in amongst her books on the table and began writing out word-for-word what he was saying, every so often looking up in slight awe. It all sounded so amazing! The potions he had mentioned were not in her textbooks that made her pout hidden behind her bent head.
After a few moments of note taking, she was so enthralled by these potions and elixirs that she had now discarded her quill and attempts at writing; she hadn't even noticed the pointed stares she was getting all around. Most came from her two roommates Patil and Lavender. The three had not gotten off on a good note, as Hermione had mistaken Lavender's jumper for her own.
'A question!' Hermione beamed, jumping out of her drifting state of mind and looking at Professor Snape with wide eyes. Her hand was high in the air. 'It's the Draught of Living Death!' she thought frantically, her hand remaining up even as the professor refused to acknowledge her hand.
'Tut, tut – fame clearly isn't everything.'
Her hand remained unacknowledged and unanswered for the next two questions. It didn't discourage her persistence to answer everything he threw at the class. It was a bit odd that no one seemed to want to answer his questions; they must've known! If they had read the textbooks, that is. How could someone not? She stood up from her seat. 'Perhaps he can't see me, or doesn't – doesn't realize I want to answer the question!' She thought frantically, keeping her hand raised towards the ceiling.
'I don't know, I think Hermione does, though, why don't you ask her?'
Hermione blushed a deep red so her face matched her Gryffindor crest as she fully realized she was now standing. If it was possible, it deepened as Snape told her to sit down with a hostile tone. For the rest of the class, Hermione resigned herself to simply making the set potion and taking notes when necessary, or at least until her embarrassment died down. Without saying, her potion came out with almost perfect results. Her hands were shaking a little when she was measuring the powered crushed snake fangs.
The moment they were let out of class, Hermione thought better of staying behind to ask questions and simply ran out of the room, in fear that she could possibly make a worse impression on her teacher.