When Harry woke up he actually felt a glimmer of hope. Yes, he hadn't made any friends and yes, his dorm mates were terrifying, but he was at a magical school. He was going to learn magic! He went into his dormitory, sneaking as quietly as he could because the other boys were still asleep and he knew that waking them would not turn out good for him. He grabbed his robes and put them on hastily, then snatched up his things and headed down to the Great Hall. He was determined to make the day as good as possible.
"No…no. Five more minutes? Please?" Ron rolled over and snuggled into his pillows.
"Ron? We're going to be late. Come on," Neville pleaded.
Ron suddenly realized where he was. Not back at home, being prodded by his mother, but at Hogwarts and he was about to be late for his first day.
"Gah!" he cried and flung the covers off of him. He pulled his robes on over his pajamas, hoping no one would notice.
"Let's go!" Neville said.
"Do we have time for breakfast?" Ron asked.
"…No?" Neville seemed unsure. "We need to get to potions."
Potions. Joy. As Ron ran down the hall with Neville panting behind him his heart sank. This was not going to be a good day.
Ron had barely taken his seat in potions, next to Neville on one side and a girl with big hair, Hermy something, on the other, when the door flew open. It slammed against the wall and the sound echoed through the dungeon, as Severus Snape, the infamous potions master, advanced to the front of the room. His cloak billowed and flapped, streaming behind me and he turned sharply to face his students.
"Welcome," he said coldly and not very welcomingly at all. "To potions class."
Ron gulped. Snape was every bit as scary as his brothers had said. Even Charlie hadn't gotten along with the Potions Master. Fred and George had kept him up late at night by telling him horror stories about the "humorless, greasy bat".
Harry wasn't any more comfortable. He was sitting next to a black boy named Blaise, who so far had ignored him but at least hadn't been downright mean. As Snape had burst into the room though Harry felt sick in his stomach. And then Snape had looked at him and his cold gaze flashed with hatred.
"Ah, Mr. Potter," Snape said, each world carefully enunciated.
With just that much Harry could see that what Snape meant was, "Hello. I hate you and am about to make your life miserable." Harry braced himself.