. They sat at the Gryffindor table, loading food onto their plates hungrily.
“Potions next.” John complained.
“With Slytherin, and you know what that means.” Sara said without much enthusiasm.
“Jim and Irene.” Mike agreed with a groan. Jim Moriarty and Irene Adler were the two worst kids in the school, the definition of bullies, so of course they were in Slytherin. And the lucky Gryffindor got to have potions with their head of house, Professor Snape, and the two seemed to team up to torment the house. John halfheartedly munched on a sandwich as the other’s conversations moved from Werewolves to school to quidditch, but John didn’t pay much attention, he was dreading what came up, and he dreaded what had just passed. Now his friends were permanently stuck with the image of werewolves being evil, twisted, and heartless. That was true when they were in wolf form, John blacked out every time that happened, he never remembered anything thankfully, but he always checks the newspapers for any dead bodies mauled by a mysterious wolf, but that had never happened to his enormous relief. Before he knew it, they were headed off to the dungeons, going down the cold stone steps to the potions classroom. When they got there, the door was closed and a couple of Slytherins were waiting at it, not Jim and Irene’s gang thankfully. Most of the Gryffindors were now there, Sam and Rory had just arrived. Then there was loud talking and laughing as Jim and Irene’s gang turned the corner, all wearing their green and silver. The two in front hadn’t changed a bit, evil glares, dark hair, pale skin, and pointing out every flaw in everyone they saw. Thankfully they were still caught up in whatever they were talking about to notice the gang of people, who all became silent. After a little bit, the door banged open and Snape stared down at the class, scowling. Snape was definitely the most terrifying professor, with shoulder length black greasy hair, hook nose, and white skin, always scowling as if everyone was something gross he had just stepped in. The only people he didn’t seem to hate were Jim and Irene, of course, they were bullies too.
“In.” He hissed, and retreated back into the classroom. John led his small group inside, too busy to get tables next to each other to notice anything around. He and Greg worked together of course, sharing ingredients and a cauldron. When he had been seated and got his stuff out, he looked around. The walls were lined with pickled somethings floating in mysterious colored liquid, the dim windows letting only slivers of light in, but the fires under the cauldrons were light enough. Snape’s desk was in the front, but something new was there. There was another small desk, like a student’s placed beside it, and sitting in it, reading a book with difficulty, trying to get into the beam of light, was the mysterious professor. Up close, he was obviously very young, right out of seventh year probably. His hair was dark and curly, slightly messed up from leaning on his hands.
“Hey look, it’s that guy! Maybe he’s here to take Snape’s job!” Greg said hopefully. John’s breath was caught in his chest; he had no idea why, probably because of the werewolf discussion. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the mysterious professor, whoever he was, but the sliver of light was hitting his hair and making it shine… “John, are you even listening to me?” Greg asked. John blinked, tearing his eyes away from the professor.
“What, sorry?” John asked.
“I said it’s that new professor, maybe he will take Snape’s job.” Greg said, sounding slightly irritated.
“Ya, maybe.” John agreed. He wondered what was bothering him so much, making him feel like he was floating, it’s like when he looked at Mary, but that was impossible, this wasn’t Mary, this was some random guy. Snape appeared at the front of the class, muttering something to the other professor, making him drop the book and stand up beside Snape. The professor was tall, nearly as tall as Snape, and probably towers over kids his age. His skin was pale and he looked uncomfortable, as if he was nervous around people. John wondered why someone so young was working alongside Snape. 
“This is Professor Holmes, my assistant teacher until he can finally take my job.” Snape said an edge in his voice. Professor Holmes showed no recognition that he was just introduced; he just looked at everyone with a stare that made them feel like he was reading their soul. “The instructions are on the blackboard.” Snape instructed, waving his wand so words spelled in white chalk appeared, teaching them to make some potion that could heal burns or something. Snape sat down, but Holmes, obviously not wanting to, walked through the class and observed the work they were doing. John had a strange desire to impress the new teacher, but right now the potion that should be orange was green and bubbling, so he guessed he had done something wrong. Greg was laughing as he added some more of something, making it spark and splash a little bit.
“Watch it!” John laughed as he avoided a small slash of whatever it was. Holmes stopped to help Sara and Mike, the desk next to the one John and Greg occupied. They had obviously done something wrong, because he stopped and looked through their ingredients, adding a little bit of something and making the color change instantly. Sara was gazing at him with wonder, but Holmes paid no attention to her as he told them something about the potion. Then he moved on, Sara whispering something to Mike, who looked at Holmes again and whispered something back. John noticed that a lot of the girls were watching him with goofy expressions, to the annoyance of their partners. Even Irene was casting sideways glances even though she and Jim had been a couple for the longest time. John went back to his potion, adding the pinch of walrus tusk, just a pinch… “What have you two done?” A deep voice over them asked. John jumped, pouring a bit too much in.
“Bloody idiot, what was…” John looked up to see Professor Holmes standing over him, looking guilty.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.” He looked as though he were expecting John to hit him or something.
“It’s fine.” John said, watching the potion turn a shade of purple.
“I think we did something wrong.” Greg decided, pausing cutting the slug to look at the professor.
“Quite right, look at the directions and tell me what you did wrong.” Holmes directed. John looked at the chalk words, looking up and down, but not seeing anything they could’ve done wrong. He looked at Greg for advice, but he looked as confused as John felt.
“You forgot the aloe.” Holmes said.
“I thought you were in charge of that?” John groaned to Greg.
“I thought you were doing that.” Greg shrugged.
“So we fail?” John asked Holmes.
“Not quite, you can come down after diner and try again.” Holmes said.
“Oh, dang it, I’d love to, but I’m already going to Sprout about those Devils Snare!” Greg lied. Holmes looked at him; it looked as if he knew he was lying. Up close, John could see that his eyes were a brilliant shade of blue; they darted around so he could see everything that was going on at once. As much as John wanted to skip this opportunity, if he was going to pass NEWTS he had to work for it.
“What time?” He asked, making Greg look at him as if he was crazy.
“It doesn’t really matter, I don’t eat dinner.” Holmes shrugged, waving his wand over the helpless potion and swooping off to help another pair of students whose caldron was leaking.
“Are you serious?” Greg asked once Holmes was out of earshot.
“If I am going to pass NEWTS I need all of the help I can get, and since Snape isn’t helping maybe I can actually understand it without dying of fear.” John said. Greg frowned, unhappy with his friend’s choice.
“He’s a bit odd don’t you think?” Greg asked, looking at Holmes.
“Ya, who doesn’t eat dinner?”
“And he went from angry teacher to don’t yell at me in .2 seconds.”
“At least he’s not Snape.” John pointed out. Greg nodded in agreement. They spent the rest of the class organizing their ingredients and trying to look productive as they talked. Snape sat at his desk, writing stuff down, and Holmes walked through and helped people. Once and a while he’d stop and add stuff, or he’d wave his wand and the potion would disappear. Being one of the students that needed help a lot, John had always wondered what had happened to the forsaken potion. When the class was over, they walked to History of Magic, which is the most torturous class, taught by the only ghost teacher, Professor Binns. He was the worst, talking monotone and never interesting.
“So I guess we know who the new teacher is.” Sara said as they walked through the corridors.
“I would never have guessed that Snape would have an assistant.” Mike agreed.
“Well I’m happy he’s here to help with potions, since it’s not Snape I’m going after dinner for extra help.” John said.
“But we were going to play quidditch!” Mike defended.
“We were both told to, I said I had to go to Sprout, but John just agreed!” Greg complained.
“Why would you do that, potions can wait, it’s only the first day!” Sara complained.
“But its NEWTS coming up and I can’t fail them if I want to be an auror.” John pointed out.
“It can still wait.” Greg said, frowning.
“I think Professor Holmes is really attractive.” Sara said, smiling slightly.
“He’s a professor; even if he liked you back nothing could happen!” Mike exclaimed.
“We’re in seventh year, and he can’t be any older than nineteen.” Sara defended.
“You’re mental.” Greg decided.
“All of the girls are like that, didn’t you see them, they were all staring dreamily at Holmes.” John said.
“You shouldn’t be talking.” Greg laughed.
“What do you mean by that!?” John asked angrily.
“When we first got in there, you were gazing at him and it took a couple of tries to get your attention.” Greg said.
“Are you serious?” Mike asked.
“I was just trying to figure out who he was, that’s all.” John defended.
“OH, John’s competing with all the girls for the professor’s heart.” Sara laughed. John immediately turned red.
“I am not, I just…” John started saying.
“Chill, it was a joke; we all know Mary is the only one for you.” Greg assured.
“Maybe something will happen this year, you being the quidditch captain and all.” Sara said.
“I hope so.” John said. History of Magic was unbearably boring, as usual, and when they were done they were looking forward to dinner.