Aspholdel and Wormwood? Neville gave Snape his reluctant attention, interested in spite of himself as to why those plants would be used. At Nott's sideways glace however Neville realize what a picture he must seem, lounging against the wall with tight fists and squinted eyes. Imminently mortified Neville thrust away from the wall and face the front of the class room head on, flattening his hands along his thighs and forced his straight faced mask back on.
Lungs screaming for more air, faster breaths, Neville refused them maintaining a steady normal breathing rate. Pressing his clammy palms harder into his thighs, Neville turned slightly to face Snape, who was currently saying something about…fame? Regardless of the subject Neville refused to appear uncouth in anyway, poor posture and class attention were unbefitting of the Longbottom name. From the corner of his eye Neville could see Nott had turned his attention back to the current class room drama, snickering lowly at the scene.
Severus Snape, a known Death Eater; who had committed countless atrocities during the war, was looming over a tiny dark haired boy who's wide and confused eyes created a slow swelling of distress in Neville.
"Let's try again." Sneered Snape, "Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
Potter? This was Harry Potter? But…he was so small! His arms looked like twigs, and his face was sunken, had he been ill? Remembering his Grandmothers lessons; the thought of her making his heart beat fast but he pushed the fear of her coming letter away, didn't the Potters and Longbottoms have a longstanding alliance? He would have to review the Book of Treaties his Grandmother had gifted to him for his sixth birthday, but he was almost positive they did!
Ignoring the desperately waving arm of fuzzy haired Granger girl, Snape loomed even closer over the Potter heir, earning a small wince from him. In the front row Neville could hear the muffled chortles of Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, and politely averted his eyes from such rude behavior, settling his eyes instead on the straining form of Hermione Granger. Miss Granger had her hand as high in the air as it could possible go, with-out detaching from her arm, and was trembling slightly. The students around her looked a little alarmed, and cast glances at each other as they inched their stools slightly away from her. Neville couldn't help but wonder if she had eaten another Sugar Quill before class. Watching her firm her jaw as she ignored the other students, Neville reversed his opinion; she wasn't riding out a sugar high she was here to prove herself.
Feeling a small warmth of respect growing in his chest, Neville focused his eyes on the chalk board where; with a sharp flick of Snape's wand, which almost had Neville ducking beneath his desk, writing had appeared describing the days lesson.