SEVERUS SNAPE AND. . .GOD, I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO CALL THIS ONE

The whole class immediately hushed as the Potions Master swept into the dungeon, slamming the door behind him. Snape paused at his desk for a moment, looking over the class of nervous first-years with a distinct glare of contempt.

This was the first day of potions for the double class, comprised of first- year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. Most had heard horror stories about the tempermental potions professor from siblings, but had never met him in person.

Snape stood silent for a moment longer, then reached down, pulled open a drawer in his desk, and took out a yellow party hat. Adjusting the elastic band to a slightly larger size, he carefully propped it on his head, securing the band under his chin. He then surveyed the class once more.

This, children," he said softly but menacingly, "is about as fun as I'm going to get this year. Now take out your quills and prepare for the ass- kicking of a lifetime."