Chapter Three: Classes Part Two
Defense Against the Dark Arts was a class I was particularly looking forward to. So, when Professor Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke I felt like I have been cheated. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which most said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. Personally I find this rumor very hard to believe first off based on the Professor's personality I doubt that he would ever involved himself with anything potentially dangerous. The garlic must be to actually cover up another smell. When a question aroused about his turban he told us that it had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for having gotten rid of a troublesome zombie, but many including myself found it hard to believe his story.
We had Herbology three times a week in which we went out to the greenhouses behind the castle with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout. She would teach us how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi, and found out what they were used for. On every Thursday at midnight we would have to study the night skies through our telescopes. It was hard to concentrate when sleep is attempting to overtake me.
Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. He gave us a class to study in other words gave us free time to do whatever but study. I like many of the other Slytherin at least took out our text book and flip to a random page.
Most were discussing about the classes, teachers, and the pile of homework that was so high that they would die before they could finish it. I found myself thinking back to the time I had helped the Hufflepuff, Everett Goodwitch. He held the name Goodwitch which were an old pure-blood family that have been on the rise the past couple of years. Something about this didn't add up he should have been able to cast the spell with only some trouble. Most pure-blood family teach their children the basics I know that much from being in Slytherin. What would he have to lie for then? It's not like he's doing himself any favors by acting like he's ignorant.
Friday finally came around which meant we would be having our last classes for the week. Double Potions taught by Professor Snape, the Head of Slytherin House. Some older students had told us that he does favor his house but he will still give you the grade you deserve so it's best not to turn in garbage unless you want to fail.
Potions class was in the dungeons near the common room which I was grateful for, I didn't have to lug around my satchel to breakfast and only had to go back to the common room to pick it up for class. Inside the classroom it had pickled animals floating around in glass jars all around the walls.
Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the class roll call and paused at Harry's name.
"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new — celebrity."
This caused Draco Malfoy and his friends whom I don't remember their names to laugh behind their hands. Which made it clear to the rest of us that poor Harry must have cross the Malfoy heir. Non of course would defend Harry because he had gotten himself into that mess but we are also not going to help Malfoy, unless there benefits.
"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 are`t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
More silence followed after his speech. One could clearly tell that he was very passionate about potion-making but had to deal with idiots who could make anyone lose faith in the future generation.
"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
A clueless Harry looked at his tall red-headed friend for help but he looked as equally stumped as Harry was. A bushy brown hair Gryffindor girl on the hand had shot her hand into the air.
"I don't know, sir," said Harry.
Snape's lips curled into a sneer. My own lips curled upward enjoy watching him squirm.
"Tut, tut — fame clearly isn't everything."
He continued to ignore the bushy haired girl's hand.
"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
Bushy haired girl stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Harry didn't even seem to have the faintest idea what a bezoar was. Malfoy and his two friends also seemed be enjoying the show as they were shaking with laughter.
"I don't know, sir."
"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" Snape was still ignoring the bushy haired girl's quivering hand. "What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
At this, bushy haired girl stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling and I mean who wouldn't at this question it was actually really easy as long as you used common sense, for the wizard world.
"I didn't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"
If I had popcorn that would just be perfect. A few people laughed; Snape, however, was not pleased.
"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"
There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Seriously though what era did wizards think we're in, have they ever even heard about of a pen and paper. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."
Snape then put us into pairs to mix up a simple potion to cure boils. Unfortunately there was an odd number of Slytherin and Gryffindor, I had failed to notice this and was about to form a group of three with another pair when someone tapped me on my shoulder.
Turning around my eyes met storm gray ones. The person had tapped me was a Gryffindor boy with such dark blonde hair that one could even call it golden.
"Would you be my partner?" he said it with so much confidence that you would think he was trying to ask a girl out. I looked back to my fallow Slytherin only to get looks of pity.
I nodded and picked up my bag to go where he was sitting. His smile vanished at this, like he was disappointed that he couldn't win with the other Slytherin.
Snape swept around in his long black cloak, watching the class weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. A stupid looking Gryffindor boy had somehow managed to melt his partner's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. My self-preservation skills kicked in fast and I was soon standing on my stool before my shoes could get ruined, the rest of the class follow my example while the stupid boy, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapse, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.
"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"
The stupid boy only whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose. But I had to admit it is pretty impressive that he managed to screw up this horribly on possible the easiest potion that we will ever brew in our seven years in Hogwarts.
"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at the partner of the stupid boy. The he turn to the person who had been closest to the stupid boy which just happened to be Harry and his red-headed friend.
"You — Potter — why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."
By the end of class the Gryffindor whom I had been partnered with seem to have wanted to chat with me but I had no interest in getting to know him so I just ignored him and went deeper into the dungeons to the where the Slytherin common room was, he wasn't brave or stupid enough to follow me because when I glanced back to see if he was still following he was gone.
