I wanted to remind you that the third floor corridor is off limits. In case I "mess anything up," I would like to state now, that I'm not following the books or movies exactly. Be prepared for change.
The next day, breakfast was loud as people talked about their classes and soon, it was time to head back to the dormitory and get ready for said classes. I gathered some of my things so I could take notes and hurried off to Potions with Professor Snape. I kept my head high as I walked in and chose a seat one section back from the front, toward the aisle. The class was filled with first years from each house, which left the room to feel rather crowded. I sighed and put on a smirk for show.
Professor Snape entered the room quickly and I watched as his eyes scanned the room, his eyes pausing on me and Potter before continuing. He seemed disgusted with us. My mother raved about Snape to me, told me what kind of man he was, but here, I see nothing of what she mentioned. He looks at us with scorn in his eyes. Where is the warmth that she spoke of? Of course, in this moment, he reminds me much of my father. Cold and stern.
I did my best to focus on what he was saying, I took notes, and every time Hermione raised her hand, he seemed to ignore her and call on some poor unsuspecting student. Often Potter. I knew the answers to the majority of his questions, but I did not want to be compared to that muggle born witch. Why did he continue to call on Harry? Everyone knows he was raised by muggles. I rolled my eyes at the thought. "Do you find my lectures…irritating? Mr. Malfoy," Snape seemed to sneer at me. So much like my father. I managed to control my flinch at his words. "No Professor. I was thinking of my father," I figured I could give him some form of half-truth. He seemed indifferent to my answer.
If the first class was like this, how would the rest go?
Thoughts?