Chapter Four: First Week of Classes, Potions, and Private Practice:
Harry was glad to start his classes and eager to assess the inner workings of Hogwarts. After all, one must know thy enemy to conquer.
They had to study the night skies through their telescopes every Wednesday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout, where they learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi, and found out what they were used for.
Easily the most boring class was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates and got Emetic the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up. Harry just read his self-study books quietly in this class.
Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first class, he took the roll call, and when he reached Harry's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight.
Professor McGonagall was again different. Harry had been quite right to think she wasn't a teacher to cross. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking-to the moment they sat down in her first class.
"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."
Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realized they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, Harry had turned his match into an ornate needle with snake engravings on it. Draco had gotten his match to turn into a plain needle, and Hermione had only made a difference to her match by it going all silver and pointy.
The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story. Harry thought something fishy was going on with Quirrell, though he decided to consult the others before doing anything.
Friday morning found Harry and Draco eating breakfast in the Great Hall.
"What have we got today?" Harry asked Draco as he poured sugar on his porridge.
"Double Potions with the Gryffindors," said Draco. "Snape's our Head of House. He always favours us - we'll see if he favours you."
Just then, the mail arrived.
Hedwig hadn't brought Harry anything so far. She sometimes flew in to nibble his ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school owls. This morning, however, she fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note ontoHarry's plate. Harry tore it open at once. It said, in a very untidy scrawl:
Dear Harry,
I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three?
I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back withHedwig.
Hagrid
Harry borrowed Draco's quill, scribbled Yes, please, see you later on the back of the note, and sent Hedwig off again.
Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.
Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name.
"Ah, Yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new - celebrity."
Draco sniggered behind his hands at his partner, Harry's expense. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word - like Professor McGonagall, Snape had y caught every word - like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "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, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
More silence followed this little speech.
"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
"If you added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood you would make a mess, but if you then stir clockwise twice, add the sloth brain, add the juice from 13 Sopophorous beans, and then stir anticlockwise seven times and clockwise once, you would make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death."
Snape seemed genuinely shocked at that.
"Let's try another. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
"I'd tell you to look in your cabinet, but if you would want a fresh one, I'd tell you to look in the stomach of a goat."
This again shocked Snape.
"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
"There is no real difference between monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same flower and also go by aconite."
Snape just nodded and said, "Well? Why aren't you all copying that down? And ten points to Slytherin."
Things didn't go very well for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Draco and Harry, who were able to make the potion without the use of the instructions. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Draco had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.
"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilt potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"
Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.
"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus.
At the end of class, Harry was asked to stay behind.
When everyone left, Harry walked up to Snape's desk.
"I forgive you, you know. For telling the Dark Lord the prophecy."
That really caught Snape off guard.
"What?"
"According to Victorian Flower Language, asphodel is a type of lily meaning 'My regrets follow you to the grave' and wormwood means 'absence' and also typically symbolised bitter sorrow. If you combined that, it meant 'I bitterly regret Lily's death.'"
"What are you trying to accomplish disrespecting me?"
"I'm not trying to disrespect you, sir. I'm just trying to connect with you."
Snape gaped at Harry as he left the potions classroom.
(Time Skip)
The first Saturday found Harry in the Room of Requirements under a time delay of one hour per one outside minute. This was so Harry could continue his private studies during the year.
Harry worked on grammar for two hours and then worked on his French, Spanish, Italian, Mandarin, Cantonese, Japanese, and Portuguese for two hours each.
After his language studies, Harry practised his non-verbal Charms for two hours and his non-verbal Transfiguration for two more hours.
Harry then studied different wizard illnesses and how to treat them. For example, the Black Death was a mass outbreak of the plague that spread throughout Europe during the Middle Ages, peaking in the mid-14th century. During this period, Nicholas Malfoy is believed to have killed many Muggle tenants, disguising their deaths as plague victims.
After that, Harry worked on 4th Year Defence and some Intermediate Dark Arts spells for four hours.
All in all, Harry was only gone for twenty-six real-world minutes, so no one was any the wiser.