"You are here to learn the precise science and exact art of potion making." Snape began to speak, his voice barely louder than a whisper yet every word reached every ear in the room. Like Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape possessed a quiet authority that could bring an entire classroom to order without the slightest effort. "Since there is no foolish wand waving here, many of you will not believe this is magic. I do not expect you to truly appreciate the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes and delicate scents. You will not understand the liquid that slips into the veins and sets the mind dancing, the will drifting. I can teach you how to win fame, brew glory, even stop death... but only if you are not the usual sort of dunderheads I am forced to teach."
The class fell into complete silence after his short opening speech. Harry and Ron raised their eyebrows and exchanged glances. Hermione Granger had edged so far forward on her seat she looked ready to fall off, clearly desperate to prove she was no dunderhead.
"Potter!" Snape said suddenly. "If I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood, what would I get?"
Powdered what into what? Harry glanced at Ron, who looked just as lost. Hermione's hand shot into the air.
"I don't know, sir," Harry said.
Snape curled his lip in contempt.
"Fame….. is clearly not everything."
Snape deliberately ignored Hermione's eagerly raised hand.
"Let us try again. Potter, if I asked you to find me a bezoar, where would you look?" Hermione stretched her hand as high as she could without leaving her seat, but Harry had no idea what a bezoar was. He tried not to notice Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle shaking with silent laughter. "I don't know, sir." "I thought you had not opened a single book before term began, did you, Potter?"
Harry forced himself to meet those cold eyes. He had read all the books at the Dursleys, but surely Snape could not expect him to memorize every line of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. Snape still ignored Hermione's trembling hand. "Potter, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?" At that moment Hermione stood up, her hand pointing straight at the dungeon ceiling. "I don't know," Harry said quietly, "but I think Hermione does. Why don't you ask her?" Several students laughed. Harry caught Seamus's eye and Seamus winked at him. Snape was clearly not pleased.
"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "Let me tell you, Potter. Powdered root of asphodel and an infusion of wormwood together make a powerful sleeping potion known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and has powerful antidotal properties. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant and are also called aconite. Understood? Why do you not all copy this down?"
The sound of frantic scratching of quills on parchment filled the room. Over the noise Snape added, "For cheeking your professor, Potter, Gryffindor loses one point."
Harry saw Malfoy nearly fall off his chair laughing. The Slytherin students stared at him with interest, whispering and chuckling among themselves every few seconds.
It was then that Harry noticed one Slytherin who stood out from the rest. The boy kept his head down, reading his book, neither joining the others in mocking Harry nor laughing so hard he nearly fell off his seat like Malfoy.
"That is a strange one," Harry thought.
Under Ron's influence and Malfoy's example, not to mention the impression Snape had just given him, Harry already felt a strong dislike for Slytherin. Yet this boy seemed different from the rest.
The potions lesson continued, but things did not improve for Gryffindor. Professor Snape had everyone brew a Boil-Cure Potion, yet disaster after disaster struck the Gryffindor side. Seamus Finnigan blew up his cauldron, Ron somehow twisted his into a pretzel shape, and Lavender Brown's cauldron gave off a horrible stench.
The only Gryffindors who had no trouble at all were Hermione and Neville. Their cauldrons stayed calm and their potions looked exactly like the illustration in the book.
By contrast the Slytherins worked in quiet order. None of the chaos that plagued Gryffindor appeared on their side. Snape had already deducted points from Gryffindor several times, bringing the total to seven with Harry's point included.
"Neville, how did you two manage it?" Ron's cauldron was ruined and he could do nothing more.
"Can't you read?" Hermione said impatiently beside Neville. "The steps and instructions are written clearly on the blackboard. I should be asking how the rest of you failed so badly."
Hermione simply could not understand it. The instructions were plain and the method exact, right there on the blackboard. Yet Gryffindor kept running into one problem after another. She noticed that Sorimus had already bottled his potion and handed it to Snape, while she and Neville on the Gryffindor side still had two or three steps left.
After class Harry noticed Hermione and Neville lingering by the door as if waiting for someone. Since they were the only two Gryffindors who had finished the potion, it was impossible not to notice. Harry pulled Ron along slowly, wanting to see what they were up to.
Finally the Slytherins left the classroom. Harry watched the one Slytherin who had not mocked him walk straight toward Hermione and Neville.
"Thank you, Sorimus. Without you I would have been finished today."
"Shouldn't you be thanking me, Neville? Did you learn nothing from last night?" Hermione complained. "Sorimus, you have no idea. Neville almost added the porcupine quills without moving his cauldron again. Luckily I was watching him the whole time or we would have repeated last night's disaster."
"All right, all right. No classes this afternoon. What are you two planning to do?"
Harry finally recognized the voice. The events of the Sorting Ceremony were still fresh in his mind. He signaled Ron to stay quiet, pulled him behind a corner, and kept listening.
"Sorimus, are you free tonight? I've nearly finished the book you lent me."
"Tell you what. After dinner come to the usual spot. You can pick another one."
As their voices faded into the distance, Ron could not hold back. "Two Gryffindor traitors! Getting so cozy with those snakes. What do you think, Harry?"
Harry did not believe Hermione and Neville were really traitors, yet he desperately wanted to know why they were spending so much time with that Sorimus. Neville might be family with him, but why was she mixed up in it too? From what he had overheard they had practiced brewing the Boil-Cure Potion the night before, which explained how they had succeeded in Snape's lesson today.
Thinking it over, Harry said to Ron, "Never mind them for now. I still have to visit Hagrid this afternoon. When I get back tonight we can question Hermione and Neville properly. Sound good?"