I do not own Harry Potter, some passages were taken from the book.
By the next morning, every Slytherin First year had perfected the match to needle transfiguration. Harry had hoped that McGonagall would be pleased. They had spent almost an hour working with each other and the older students after borrowing several boxes of matches from Professor Snape. The study sessions were very helpful to the new first years. Although, the older students seemed a bit more stressed, and continuously went to Professor Snape for potions questions.
Draco was surprised to see the Gryffindor trio looking so happy when they went down for breakfast, but he didn't realize that potions class would make the Gryffindors miserable.
"Hey, 'ermione," Theo said, from across the table with his mouth full of food. "Stop attracting attention to yourself in class, you'll get called names for it, plus the teachers know that you know everything."
"But I know the answer," Hermione said, confused.
"Yeah, but Hermione," Vincent said. "It doesn't allow anyone else to answer and if the teacher wants to know, they'll call on you or if no one knows, you can ask."
"But if I know the answer, I might as well try," Hermione said stubbornly.
"Hermione," Vincent replied. "Keep this up and you'll get bullied for being a know-it-all. Trust me, my sister was exactly like you when she went here and she was called a know-it-all so many times every day."
"Oh, right," Hermione said, staring at her cereal.
The Slytherins and Gryffindors filed into the potions classroom shortly after breakfast had finished. The Slytherins took the bottom few rows closest to Professor Snape's desk, while the Gryffindors piled towards the back of the classroom. Everyone was cautious. They knew that Professor Snape wasn't the most pleasant person, and no one wanted to give him a reason to take points or give a detention on the very first class, even the Slytherins. The door opened with a loud bang, making everyone jump.
"Good morning," Professor Snape said silkily. "I will begin by calling roll."
He glanced at Harry when he got to his name, but said nothing. When he got to Weasley's name, he paused.
"Another one? My my, you are the 6th one I've had to teach. Will you actually care like the first three, or will you take after the other two?"
Weasley opened his mouth, ears red, but Severus continued.
"I wouldn't be surprised if you were a troublemaker; I suppose we will soon find out?"
Professor Snape finished calling roll and continued on with his lecture. The class was silent.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making. 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, and even stopper death, that is, if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
The Slytherins glanced at each other, small smiles on their faces. They knew that they would be able to prove to the professor that they could brew various things perfectly. Professor Snape glanced around the classroom, smirking at the looks of terror that the Gryffindors were giving him and at the confident looks the Slytherins were giving each other. He decided to give them a little test.
"Weasley! What would you get if you added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Weasley's brow furrowed as Hermione began to raise her hand. Draco pulled it down.
"I don't know," he said, then quickly added, "sir."
"Hmm. Clearly your older brothers didn't think you'd retain any information if they taught you."
"Thomas! Where would you look if I told you to find a bezoar," Severus hissed.
"I don't know, sir," Dean Thomas replied, his voice a whisper.
"Hmm, none of you thought to open a book then? Patil, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
"I'm sorry sir, I don't know," a girl named Pavarti Patil said, looking at Professor Snape.
"Tut tut, this is very worrying. Does anyone know the answer to my questions. Granger, Potter, or Malfoy, did you happen to open a book?"
Hermione brushed her hair back, preparing to answer.
"Asphodel and wormwood make the Draught of Living Death," Harry replied.
"Good, Malfoy?"
"Um, monkshood and wolfsbane are the same thing," Draco said back, confidently.
"Also known as aconite. Miss Granger, where could I find a bezoar?"
"It is extracted from a goat's stomach and can be used to circumvent most poisons," Hermione said, relieved to have been able to answer a question.
"Very good, 5 points to each of you. Oh and 3 points from each of you who didn't know an answer. You will be brewing a very simple cure for boils potion with partners today. The instructions are on the board. You have an hour. You may begin. Now."
The class hurried around the room gathering all the ingredients that they were going to use, including lionfish spines, which they had to get a certain amount of or else the potion wouldn't work. They brewed horned slugs and Professor Snape went all around the classroom, praising the Slytherins for their work, and criticized the mess of potions that the Gryffindors had brewed. There were small explosions that were taking place near Weasley's and poor Neville Longbottom's cauldron. He showed the class how Draco and Hermione had perfectly brewed their potion, and gave them a generous ten points each. Harry had partnered with Theo Nott, who, like Draco and Hermione, had perfectly brewed their potion.
"Your hour is up. Bottle up what you have and bring it to the front with your names on it. On Wednesday, I expect a foot long essay on the importance of each ingredient you have used today in the Cure for Boils. Explain how they interact with each other and how this interaction creates the properties to cure boils," Severus drawled. "If you dunderheads have even opened a book, this essay will be very easy."
The bell rang, signaling the end of class. The students filed out, Gryffindors practically running out of the room. The Slytherins filed out in a nice orderly fashion. The minute the first years were gone, Severus shut and locked the door with his wand from his desk. He rubbed his forehead with his hands. How hard was it for those idiotic midgets to open a book? The answers to his questions at the beginning of class were the exact questions that the introduction of Magical Drafts and Potions asked the reader. He was disappointed. Every year he asked those questions, and every year he was disappointed. Most of the time he wanted to see how people would treat his class. He knew now that the Gryffindors would be the students that just didn't try, especially the one named Ronald Weasley.
Harry was nervous as the Slytherins walked down to their next class. They were doing their first flying class today and he had never been on a broom before. Draco has spent the afternoon bragging about how he had been riding on a broom since he was 5. He announced about 100 times that he thought it was unfair that students weren't allowed brooms or able to play on their house quidditch team. Harry was annoyed. He just wanted to get through a flying class without making a fool of himself.
"I just don't think it's fair that-" Draco began to whine, before being interrupted.
"First years aren't allowed broomsticks," the Slytherin First years chorused back at him.
"For the last time, Draco," Daphne stated. "We know you think it's unfair. Since it has escaped your notice, your friend is very nervous and probably could use a friend to be by his side right about now."
Draco looked confused as his eyes swept over the large group. His eyes fell on Harry, who appeared zoned out and was chewing on his lip and picking at his thumb. Draco felt guilty almost immediately. Here he was, talking about how it was unfair that he couldn't fly on the house team, when Harry was worried about flying in general.
"Harry?" Draco said. "Harry!"
Harry's head snapped up as Draco moved toward him.
"What, Draco?" Harry said miserably.
"I….I'm sorry. I've been a bad friend by complaining when you've been clearly nervous. How can I help?"
"There's nothing you can do really, I mean you know what happened in the past when I embarrassed myself or the Dursley's. I don't want to embarrass Sev," Harry said softly, so only Draco could hear.
"Don't worry Harry, Sev wouldn't be embarrassed by your first flying class. He'd be proud that you were trying to fly! It scares most people. I was terrified the first time I flew," Draco whispered.
"You're sure he won't be upset with me if I can't?"
"I promise! Sev only gets mad if you're a dunderhead and don't try," Draco said confidently.
Harry nodded.
"Okay," he said.
Before they knew it, they were lined up, ready to begin their flying class. Their first task was to get the broom to fly into their hand by saying "Up!". Harry's and Draco's brooms flew into their hands almost immediately. Harry gave an excited look at Draco, who gave a small smile in return. All of the Slytherins were fairly quick at this assignment. Hermione looked like she didn't want to fly, and although reluctant, her broom flew into her hand after a minute. Poor Neville Longbottom also looked like he didn't want to fly, and he was the last one to get the broom in his hand. The Gryffindors were sniggering at him, and the Slytherins genuinely felt bad for Neville.
Once everyone had gotten their broom in their hand, they were going to practice hovering. And quickly after this, the Slytherins realized that Neville Longbottom was a magnet for trouble. No matter how hard Neville tried, something would end up happening to him. In this instance, he hovered, and then his broom took off. Neville yelled as his broom flew backwards and forwards. It was almost as if his broom was out of control. The Slytherins stood there, open mouthed as they watched the boy fly around like a chicken with it's head cut off. The Gryffindor girls were squealing rather annoyingly as Neville was flown around the courtyard, while Weasley and his companions did nothing but snigger at him. After about 5 minutes of being tossed around, Neville crashed into a wall and broke his wrist. Madam Hooch was currently taking him to the hospital wing.
Gryffindor house was laughing. Hermione had had enough and stomped up to the remainder of the Gryffindor boys.
"That is quite enough! I would have thought you felt more compassion for your housemate," Hermione snapped. Draco rolled his eyes.
"Hey, look," Harry said, bending down to pick up an object. "This is Neville's. We should take it to him later today."
Draco nodded, and at that moment, he heard Weasley teasing Hermione.
"Oh, Granger, didn't know that you liked crybabys. Should we set you two up in some sort of relationship? I bet you'd have the best time of your life taking care of the blubbering idiot. Buuuut, you're in stinking Slytherin so it's not like you would have any compassion whatsoever towards anyone else," Ron said. He grabbed her arm and pulled her close. "Besides," he whispered in her ear, "I don't think a mudblood like you should come near a pureblood like me, so stop talking to me, know-it-all."
Hermione gasped and pulled back, tears in her eyes.
"How dare you?" She whispered.
"What in the devil is going on here?" A silky voice purred from the door.
"Professor!" Hermione said, surprised. "He called me a You-Know-What."
"No I didn't!" he protested, as Hermione glared at him.
"Weasley!" Severus snarled. "Come with me. We are going to see your head of house."
And Wealsey followed Professor Snape, his head hung, as Hermione was being hugged by Harry.