A tall, stern looking woman in emerald green robes opened the door and greeted them. Harry's immediate instinct was that this wasn't someone you wanted to cross. She and Hagrid exchanged very terse comments and then she opened the door wide to the entrance hall. It was so big you could easily have nestled a good sized house there. Flaming torches lit the room and the ceiling seemed almost as tall as sky to Harry. There was a great marble staircase there as well, facing them, which must have lead to the upper floors.
Quickly, they started following Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floors. Harry could hear the drone of a lot of voices, maybe hundreds of them, from a doorway to the right but they didn't go into it. Instead, Professor McGonagall lead them into a chamber that was honestly a little cramped for first years. They crowded in and Professor McGonagall gave them a little speech about the Sorting and the Houses and mentioned the system of punishment that used House Points to punish and reward the students. But Harry's mind was still on the Sorting when she turned to go prepare for the Sorting.
"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" Harry asked Theodore worriedly
"No idea," Theodore replied, "Dad says it's a Hogwarts tradition to go in shaking like a leaf."
Harry turned quizzically to Neville who also nervous, "Gran said, 'You don't get to know, you've got to be surprised or it might all be ruined.'"
After the first brief storm of muttering, nobody seemed to want to talk. Everybody was nervous and worried. Harry saw one girl standing next to a red haired boy and muttering furiously to herself, but Harry wasn't sure what she was muttering about or who she was muttering to. Harry couldn't remember ever being this nervous before in his life, although that is how it always is with nerves (especially if those nerves involve women) and it is unlikely that this was actually the most anxious time of his life. Any minute now, Professor McGonagall was going to come back and lead him to his doom.
Just then, a collective set of gasps, jumps and screams distracted Harry from his worries as about twenty ghosts passed through the back wall into the room. They were discussing somebody named Peeves and whether or not to give him another chance. One of the ghosts stared at the students, as if he had been rudely interrupted and hadn't just walked into the room and scared some of them (especially the muggleborns) half to death. "What are you doing here?" he said, irritated.
None of the students seemed to find the courage to answer but, mercifully, one of the ghosts said, "New students?" he said, "About to be sorted?" Theodore and several students nodded respectfully in response. "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the merciful ghost.
"Move along now," said Professor McGonagall who had just returned, "The Sorting Ceremony's about to begin." The ghosts seemed to agree with Harry's assessment that she wasn't someone to be crossed because they all left through the opposite wall in a slight rush. "Now, form a line and follow me," Professor McGonagallcommanded the students.
Harry got into line with Theodore and Neville, and it was a lucky thing that the boys were so nervous because it kept them all from the foolish sort of vying for that first position that children love so much for no particular reason. The line followed Professor McGonagall out to the hall again and then through the large, double doors that went into the Great Hall.
Although Harry hadn't ever heard the name Great Hallbefore, if he had he would have felt it a very fitting name. He hadn't imagined such a fantastic place could even exist. Thousands and thousands of candles filled the hall with light as they floated without any kind of suspension over the four tables where all of the students were sitting. Golden goblets and golden plates were all over both those tables and the long one where the teachers sat, facing the students. Of course, that's where Professor McGonagall took them and lined them all up to be gawked at by the silent, lantern like faces of all of the other students.
In order to avoid all the staring eyes, Harry looked up at the ceiling and saw the night sky, dotted with stars, hanging above him instead of a ceiling. For a moment, he wondered how that worked if it was raining but then he decided it must be magic. Besides, there would be time to investigate that when everyone wasn't staring at him.
It was only then that he realized that eyes had shifted toward a stool on which Professor McGonagall was placing a patched, frayed, and dirty pointed old wizard's hat. Harry couldn't help but think that Aunt Petunia wouldn't have approved of it. This wasn't purely because she was Aunt Petunia, your mother might have had issues with it as well.
Harry wondered if they would have to pull a rabbit out of it. He stared at the Hat with the rest of the hall before something amazing happened, perhaps one of the most peculiar things he had seen in the past twenty four hours (though, Harry had to admit, it was getting hard to say). The hat began to sing.
It sang a song about the four houses, introducing itself and then describing the traits of each house in turn. Harry was very relieved that the method of house choosing was just trying on a hat, but he rather wished that he hadn't had to do it in front of everyone. The only thing he felt at the moment was a bit queasy, not brave, quick-witted, just, or cunning.
So the students started to be called alphabetically. Harry resigned himself as being rather far down the list. Draco Malfoy and his two friends all ended up in Slytherin, but so did Theodore. The hat seemed to take an especially long time in placing Neville, which was unfortunate because he looked like the most unhappy to be up there. Eventually, however, the Hat cried out "GRYFFINDOR!" and Neville was welcomed to thunderous applause.
Eventually, Harry's own name was called and a storm of whispers swept across the room. "Harry potter" was echoed by voices of young children and those on the cusp of adulthood. Everyone was craning to see Harry, which Harry rather wished wasn't the last thing he saw before the Sorting Hat dropped over his eyes.
"Hmm…" said a small voice in his ear, "Difficult, very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness yes - And a nice thirst to prove yourself. So where shall I put you?"
I don't know, thought Harry, very grateful that the Hat seemed to think that he belonged there.
"Of course," replied the voice in his ear, "Of course you belong here. So… So… Gryffindor or Slytherin I think. You've got a healthy disregard for rules, so that seems best. Lets see… Do you want to make something of yourself? Do you want to be great, Harry?"
Of course I want to be great, Harry thought, Who wouldn't want to be great?
"Who wouldn't want to be great indeed," the Hat whispered in his ear, "Certainly nobody in SLYTHERIN!"
Harry wobbled over to Slytherin, hearing the thunderous sound of their hoops and hollers and wondering momentarily why he was being welcomed so loudly and warmly welcomed before he remembered that he was, after all, the Boy-Who-Lived and began to question whether his response to the Hat had been entirely wise. Being great wasn't all it was cracked up to be, as he was continually discovering.
Because Slytherin is the house of the cunning and alsobecause it is the house of the ambitious, Harry found himself rather uncomfortably nestled between an older boy and girl and across from several of their friends, a long way from Theodore, who seemed to have wound up sitting near a couple of older lads whom he knew through his father.
The rest of the sorting proceeded unremarkably, Harry being the last Slytherin boy added to the table. Harry looked wistfully across the table, trying to catch Theodore's eyes but couldn't get the right angle. He eventually settled for looking at the teacher's table as the students waiting to be called dwindled down to nothing. As his nerves waned, however, his hunger waxed and he began to wonder when they were going to get a chance to eat. Finally, "Zabini, Blaise," was sorted into Ravenclaw and Harry saw the girl across from him proffer her hand, "Charis Hawthorn," she said, "It's a pleasure to meet you Harry."
Harry was about to speak and say that he was glad to meet her as well (although really, he'd have rather been down with Theodore… How had he gotten wrangled into this position?) when a man stood up from the teacher's table to greet them. The man, Harry recognized him from the card, was Albus Dumbledore. He stood with arms wide open as if nothing could make him happier than to have all the students there with him and the other teachers.
"Welcome! Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! Before we begin our feast, I would just like to say a few words and here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddball! Tweak! Thank you!"
"Erm, what was that?" Harry asked, confused
"I heard from my dad that the last headmaster would drone on and on forever," Charis remarked, as if that explained everything.
"Why does that matter?" Harry asked, feeling like an idiot.
"Dumbledore doesn't do the welcoming speeches because students hate them," the girl to Harry's right, "He's got a sharp sense of what endears him to the students. Sly man, Dumledore, never figured out why he wasn't in Slytherin."
"What house was Dumbledore in?" Harry said
"Gryffindor," the boy sitting on Harry's left replied, "We can't have all the greatest wizards and witches, Moriah"
"Or all the worst, Anthony" Moriah remarked
"Gah!" cried Charis, frustrated, "No politics! Zip. Zilch. This is dinner, not a wizengamot session. "
"Wizengamot?" Harry asked, feeling as if he hadn't been properly prepared for the Wizarding World at all.
"Didn't they teach you anything in seclusion?" Charis asked, "Dad thought you were being groomed as a magical king or something, in all likelihood."
"Ah, no," Harry replied, thinking that he was probably going to disappoint a lot of people, "I was raised by my aunt and uncle, actually."
"Wow, so do you really not know anyone then, anyone at all?" Anthony said
"No!" Harry replied, feeling very defensive but also fairly certain that this wasn't going to end well.
"Who do you know?" Anthony asked
"I've met Hagrid, he's the one who took me to Diagon Alley, and Morgan Strand, she helped me onto the train, and I've met Theodore Nott and Draco Malfoy, who are boys in my year, and Neville Longbottom."
"Well, the last three is a lucky shot, the Longbottoms, Notts and Malfoys are very respectable families," Anthonyreplied, "Strand is a prissy little muggleborn, though, and Hagrid… I mean, what else needs to be said really?" and Harry couldn't help but really dislike the boy.
Charis seemed to catch his dislike for Anthony almost immediately and tried to manuever him away from it, "How'd you meet that trio?"
"I sat with Neville and Theodore on the train," Harry replied and Charis laughed warmly, "What's so funny?"Harry asked hotly
"That's the classic story of how everyone met at Hogwarts," she says, "True love? Best friend forever? Worst enemy? Everybody meets on the train,"
"Think that me and Malfoy are going to be enemies," Harry replied
"A pity that," Charis remarked, "He really does come from a very respectable family, but that's the way it goes sometimes,"
"Why does everybody keep talking about families like their respectable or not respectable or any such nonsense?" Harry said aggressively, "My family's toss, at least everyone I know in it is, and I turned out alright,"
"Well…" Charis began delicately.
Unluckily, Delicately was a big word which Anthony would not learn for quite some time (girls usually get that one first), "Some people have mud for blood, Harry," Harry shot him a glare at the use of his proper name, "They've got no real magic to them, they're the dregs and the cast-offs of our society, leeching off those of us who have magic and money."
Harry felt nothing but disgust at all of this, remembering Uncle Vernon ranting and rallying about the underclasses and his own mother and father, and said, "Look. Shut up. I don't want to hear it, alright?" then, noticing the way the others were eying him with a mixture of fear and shock, added for good measure, "I'm not going to tolerate that kind of talk when I'm around."
Charis nodded her head, "We'll let the word out, Harry, no need to worry," and she glared at Anthony as if to put the emphasis (and blame) on him. Anthony flushed incredibly red and Harry felt suddenly like he had authority and power here which made him a mixture of uncomfortable and glad because, if this school was full of people like Malfoy and Anthony, he was going to need it.
The rest of the meal passed with quiet pleasantries and discussion of classes. The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was new, just returned from a year of adventuring and hoping to prove a good teacher. The Potions Master was the head of house, "He's a tough grader, to be sure, and he has no toleration whatsoever for idiots," Moriah remarked, "But if you get on his good side, he'll really go to bat for you – Advance advice? Read ahead beforepotions class."
McGonagall was noted by Anthony as, "Very strict, but she's got a good heart. Also incredibly impartial, never been a fairer head of house, which is good because we never get on with Gryffindor in Slytherin."
"Neville's in Gryffindor," Harry said, a little worried that his friendship might be in danger.
"Good," Charis said, a smoothness to her voice, "Maybe you and he can tamp down on the ridiculousness that usually occurs between Gryffindor and Slytherin first years."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked
"Well, we compete for house points and the house cup, but Gryffindor and Slytherin firsties are always tossing one another under the bus and bringing down both houses totals! We'd win every year if the first years weren't busy being idiots."
Then Dumbledore got up and gave a speech about the rules, including mentioning a list that was hung in the caretaker's office to which Anthony muttered, "Nobody is going to go there to look." And saying that the third floor corridor and the forest outside were both strictly off limits.
He then led the school song (which was terrible and sounded terrible, absolutely without rhythm) which two boys from Gryffindor dragged out for a very long time, and dismissed the students. Harry was summoned by a prefect and got up to get in line, "See you later, Harry," Charis said and Harry only nodded assent. He wasn't sure the relationship was one which he would be interested in maintaining in the future, but she had been nice enough and he didn't want to be rude.
He squeezed into line between a girl and Theodore, who immediately asked him how his dinner had been.
"So-so," Harry replied, "Charis is nice enough but Anthony was a prig. What about you?"
"Bit boring, the older boys spent most of their time catching up," Theodore said.
Harry grunted assent and they followed the Slytherin prefect down into the dungeons, when they reached the house entryway, the prefect announced, "The passowrd is venom," with a coldness that was not at all befitting someone set over a group of young, frightened children. They entered the common room and tromped to their rooms rather quietly, each sat down on their beds. Draco stood up awkwardly and said, "Um, Look, Potter, about the train, I guess I should probably apologize again. I don't know why I lashed out like that… Just nerves, I guess, but since we're going to be living together and everything, I was wondering if you'd maybe be willing to start again."
There was an awkward moment before Harry stood up and offered his hand to Draco, "Sure," he replied, glad to have the chance to clear the air, "I'd be up for that."
"Thank goodness," Draco said with a smile, "I'd hate to have an enemy sleeping next to me, after all,"
"Yeah. That would be really awkward," Harry replied before turning to Draco's 'goons', "Hi, I'm Harry,"
"Gregory Goyle," one of the boys replied.
"Vincent Crabbe," the other said politely, extending his hand, "Its good to meet you."
"Good to meet you," Harry said happily.
Soon, they were all clambering into their beds, thoughts of their next day classes clouding their minds as they drifted into sleep.
Harry was awoken in the middle of the night by someone shaking him awake forcefully, "Time to get up, ickle-firstie," the voice said. Harry stared up out of bed at the person standing over him, a man wearing a silver-and-green mask and holding a softly shining wand in the air, and resisted the urge to scream, "Are you ready to become a real Slytherin?" the man asked, in a voice that was clearly meant to be scary but Harry thought was a little ridiculous.
Harry nodded and the man beckoned him out of bed. All the other beds were had a clearly already awake first year sitting in them, looking white as a sheet under the light from the wand. Draco was standing quietly in the center of the room obviously just awoken as well, "Come on, you two," the man said, aggressively urging them outside.
They went down to the common room, which was largely empty but lit on all sides by green and white light. There was a smooth glass jar in the center of the room, full, as far as Harry could tell, of stones. Harry and Draco were ushered over to it and the man directed them, "Each of you is to put your hand in the bowl," and they put their hands in the bowl, "Now, you must keep your hands inside the bowl. You cannot remove it until I tell you and you must not squirm, am I clear?"
"Yes sir," Draco responded, his face calm.
Harry nodded his head slowly. Then the man touched the bowl with the tip of his wand and muttered a word Harry didn't understand and suddenly all of the rocks were snakes. They twisted in the bowl around Harry's hand, but he wasn't going to give before Draco did, who was turning paler by the second. Slowly, surely, the snakes began to climb onto both of their hands and out of the bowl and Draco started to do something that seemed very much like praying. Harry wasn't going to give, he wasn't going to be scared, he wasn't…
But it was so hard, the snakes were climbing up his arm and winding around his chest and he was scared. Draco screamed and pulled his hand out of the bowl and Harry tried his best not to let the fear spread to him but he started to mutter, "Please get off, please get off," and then the snakes just… slid off. They went down to the floor or the bowl with a curteous, "Yess" to Harry. Harry watched them go with astonishment. The man and Draco both stared at Harry.
"You're… You're the heir of slytherin!" the man said with alarm
"I'm the what?" Harry said
"The Heir of Slytherin! You're a parselmouth!" the man said, "You're the descendant of Salazaar himself!"
Draco just looked flushed with terror, "The Dark Lord was the Heir of Slytherin," he said, staring at Harry with eyes wide.
The man took of the green and silver mask to reveal the face of a seventh year, "I'm Victor Stoikean, it's a honor… Sir. You must speak with Professor Snape as soon as possible," he said, "Now both of you to bed…" he instructed them, vanishing the snakes.
The next day, he got up and went to breakfast, where he ate, staring up at Professor Snape (who Theo identified for him) but without a way to go up discretely, it might have brought more attention to him.
He and Theo went to classes until lunch and, just as he was about to enter the Great Hall, Professor Snape barked at him from down the hall, "Mr. Potter! Come with me!" Harry looked at Theo, who pinched his nose and then told him to go on ahead.
Professor Snape, Harry thought, looked absolutelyunpleasant. He was thin, greasy haired and pale, with a hookish nose and a vicious scowl that seemed to indicate that Harry was in very big trouble indeed. Snape walked at a strong clip with Harry behind him, muttering furiously about "bigheaded Potters."
Eventually they rounded into his office and the door shut behind them and it was only Harry and Snape andSnape blew up, "What in Merlin's name were you thinking! Claiming to be the heir of slytherin! Speaking parseltongue! Did you think you'd show off a bit, impress your classmates and cow them? Couldn't have just gone through Viper Night like the rest of us, no, you had to strut! You had to dance and whirl!"
Throughout all of this impassioned screaming, Harry became increasingly frightened and, slowly, angry. It wasn't his fault that he had some weird magical talent! It wasn't his fault that everybody thought that he was some sort of ultra-special Slytherin Heir or any of that, "I didn't know what was happening!" he burst out
Do not! Do not interrupt me while I am speaking Mr. Potter," Professor Snape retorted, "Do you have any idea what you have done? I have already had to obliviate a seventh year! How many more, Mr. Potter? Who else knows?"
"Draco!" Harry said angrily "But I didn't even know I was a parselmouth or whatever until last night!"
"You… You did not?" Professor Snape said, taken aback by Harry's response
"I mean, I had spoken to snakes," Harry said, "But I didn't know that meant anything,"
"It means a very great deal," Professor Snape growled, his voice sharp and angry, "It means that the others will recognize you as sort of Slytherin-savior, will try to shape you and mould you into their image."
"Professor Snape," Harry said hesitatingly, "Victorsaid that Voldemort-"
"Do not say the dark lord's name!" Professor Snape barked.
"Sorry," Harry said, a bit defensive, "He said that You-Know-Who was the Heir of Slytherin, and the wand-maker said my wand was the same as his, and I don't really want to grow up to be like… him."
Harry couldn't quite make out what was happening on Professor Snape's face now. It seemed to be trying desperately to shape itself an expression that had long sinceexited his repertoire. "I do not think that likely," he said, finally.
"Why not?" Harry asked
Professor Snape's face returned to his normal scowl, "Because I do not think that the Dark Lord would have ever worried about such things."
"What is the Heir of Slytherin supposed to do?"
"Oh, the stories are all different," Snape replied, "Cleanse the school of muggle-borns, for one thing,"
"Muggle-born? Why don't you call them mudbloods like everybody else?"
Harry might have misinterpreted it, but Snape seemed to flash a measure of disgust across his face. "Mr. Potter," Professor Snape replied, "I would remind you that your own mother was a muggle-born and warn you not to use such language, it is not acceptable."
"But everyone in Slytherin does it," Harry said.
"Then," Professor Snape replied, a firmness entering his voice that had no trace of malice, "do not be like everyone in Slytherin." For some reason, this command, more than any other, sunk into Harry rather hard and he felt as if his earlier behavior was reprehensible. Harry looked down at his feet in shame and resolved to not use that word again. Snape continued on as if nothing had happened, returning to his less friendly tone, "The other boys in your year, they know of your gift?"
Harry nodded and Professor Snape grimaced, "Do not mention it to them again and I will handle it as best I can," he said, "Leave, Mr. Potter. And do try to keep your head down, this has caused no end of trouble for me," he finished with acid in his voice.
Harry nodded and left and couldn't help but wonder if Professor Snape hated him or not.
Harry had to skip lunch and go straight to Transfiguration, which he entered to the sight of a cat sitting on the table. He sat down awkwardly, being the last of his classmates to come in, and was astonished to see the cat turn into Professor McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House. Needless to say, he paid good attention for the rest of the lesson. He did a decent job, but he looked over at Theo to see that he had almost completely finished his transfiguration of a pen into a needle. "How'd you do that?" Harry asked.
Theo shrugged modestly, frustratedly trying to get the transfiguration to open at the end.
Professor McGonagall came over to their table and smiled at Theo, "That is an excellent transfiguration Mr. Nott, very few are able to complete a transfiguration on their first day" she said encouragingly, "You have a real gift, five points to Slytherin. Mr. Potter, you've done fairly well. Remember to focus on the goal and take the spell through each step toward that goal. You seem to be taking two steps forward and then one step back with your transfiguration, so it isn't holding." Harry nodded diligently to Professor McGonagall, though he thought to himself that Theo was abnormally gifted in ALL of their classes.
Later on, when classes were over, Harry ran into Neville on his way to the library and his heart leapt for joy, "Neville!" he said happily, "How has Gryffindor treated you?"
"Well enough, I guess," he answered, "All the other boys are all grouped up and I haven't got any friends at all."
"We're friends," he said motioning between him and Neville.
"Yeah," Neville replied, somewhat glumly, "I just wanted to have some friends in my own house, I guess."
"Look, tomorrow is potions and we've got that class together, so we can go study for it. I heard that Professor Snape is a very difficult instructor," Harry continued, trying to cheer Neville up, "Theo thought we should study for it and I'm sure he'd be happy to see you too."
"Okay," Neville said, cheering a little at the idea of studying with Harry. Harry and he went to the library and met up with Theo there, who already had his potions text out and was marking it up, making notes about various parts of it. He looked up at them and smiled, "Hey Neville," he said in a quiet but distinctively cheerful voice.
"Hey Theo," Neville replied, pulling out his own text book and beginning to look over it.
"How's Gryffindor treating you?" Theo asked, holding his finger between two pages.
Neville shrugged, "It isn't too bad, what about you and Slytherin?"
"Good enough," Theo said modestly, "You studying potions with us?"
"Yeah," Neville said. Theo nodded to that and turned back down towards his books.
They were reading about half an hour and Neville was already starting to get a headache from all the wolfsbanes, eyes of newt, and pixie dust attributes and the nature of the potion and everything that was in the first chapter. "Does any of this make any sense to you at all?" Neville asked, frustrated.
"No," Harry demured, putting his head against the desk.
"Really?" Theo said, "It isn't all abundantly clear?"
Harry shook his head, "Not at all," he said dejectedly.
"Look, its simple really," Theo said authoritatively, drawing the book out, "There are basically four elements to any potion brewed - Time, Objects, Magic, and Motion. Each one is important and they all influence one another."
Harry sort of squinted at Theo, "What does that even mean?" he asked.
At this, Theo launched into a extraordinarily dense spiel that neither Neville nor Harry could understand a single word of. In the end, Harry shrugged, "I'll take your word for it mate," he said, and Theo just looked at him and sighed, shaking his head.
"What are we supposed to know?" Neville said, dejectedly, "I mean, what's he going to ask us about on the first day?"
"Don't know, but the upperclassmen hinted that answering questions on the first day is pretty much the only way to end up in his good graces," Harry said, "And I don't think he has a lot of good graces to him."
"Why do you say that?"
"Well, I met him today, and I'm pretty sure his scowl is glued on,"
Neville seemed frightened by that, "You've already met your head of house? Why?"
"Oh, uh, just a bit of hazing, trying to scare us, that didn't go over well, its fine, I'm not in trouble or anything," Harry replied, feeling terrible for lying to Neville.
"Wow. I'm glad they didn't haze us or anything in Gryffindor," Neville said, "I'd have probably completely embarrassed myself and brought shame on the whole house in the process."
"I'm sure you'd have done fine, Neville," Harry said, trying to reassure his friend.
"No I wouldn't have! I'm scared of everything, I should never have been in Gryffindor," he said, shrinking to a mumble as Madam Pince shot him an angry glare for shouting.
"Look, I feel a bit odd in Slytherin right, but we're gonna get through this, okay?" Harry responded, trying to be reassuring but failing rather hard, and since he didn't know what else to say after that, he just sort of looked down at his book and started reading over potions ingredients again and their various properties. He hoped that Neville started to fit into Gryffindor and he worried that he wasn't going to fit into Slytherin any better.
By the time of their potions class the next day, Neville's anxiety had gotten worse, not better, and Harry begged off sitting with Theo to sit with him, so that Theoended up sitting with a bushy haired Gryffindor girl who was jabbering endlessly and the other Gryffindors were avoiding.
The whole classroom was rather tense, twenty students and no teacher, when Professor Snape walked into the room. He looked positively terrifying. His eyes cast about the classrom and he nodded menacingly. He gave a long speech to the class about how he could teach them many things, including how to stopper death, presuming they did not turn out to be the "usual bunch of dunderheads that I ordinarily teach."
He then turned to Harry, "Ah, Mr. Potter, our new celebrity," he looked down at Harry, "Do not think that your fame will win you any favors in my classroom," Harry nodded politely, though privately he wondered if his other professors would ever favor him because of his fame and he quickly dismissed the possibility of Professor McGonagall doing any such thing. "Now, Mr. Potter, if you could please share with the class, what is the other name for Monkshood?"
"Wolfsbane, Professor Snape," Harry responded, trying to be on his best behavior.
Something very much like a smile flashed across Professor Snape's face, "Very good Mr. Potter, a point to Slytherin for your efforts. Remember that it is skill that will be rewarded in this class." Harry nodded his assent. Best not to get on his head of house's bad side twice in one week. He turned to address the whole class, "This is the potion that you will be producing this class period," and with a flick of his wand the instructions appeared on the board, "Begin preparing, it will no doubt be beyond most of your meager skills."