*Edited*

Professor Snape isn't the nicest looking teacher. He has greasy black hair (ew), a hooked nose and sallow skin.

We all follow him into the classroom. It is a lot colder down here. Not to mention creepy, with the pickled animals in floating glass jars all around the walls.

He starts the class by taking the register and like Professor Sprout, and pauses at Harry's name.

"Ah, yes," he says softly. "Harry Potter, our new-celebrity. Then that must mean that the famous Sarah Potter must be here, yes?"

Draco Malfoy and his goons, Crabbe and Goyle, snigger.

Gits.

Once he finishes calling names, he looks up at the class.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he begins. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe that this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes-"

"Someone's in love," I snigger to Hermione. She just nudges me.

"Five points from Gryffindor for interrupting a teacher," Snape's says.

That's harsh. I didn't even say it loud.

I grab out my notebook and start taking notes-

"Where was I? Oh yes- the delicate power of liquids that creep through our veins-"

Now I am trying to copy down everything he says.

"-bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper in death-if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads that I usually have to teach."

I am not a dunderhead!

Git.

Everyone is silent.

"Potter!" He says suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

I know this- 'powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood'-

It creates the draught of living death!

"Powdered root of aspho-" I begin to say but Snape interrupts me.

"No, not you Miss Potter." He says coldly.

Jeez, I was just trying to answer the question. You did say 'Potter'...

Harry obviously has no idea at all.

"I don't know, sir." He says

Poor Harry.

Snape's lip curls into a sneer.

'You knew Harry wouldn't know this, you prat!' I say to Snape in my mind

"Tut, tut- clearly fame isn't everything."

He ignores Hermione, who has her hand raised.

"Put your hand down, he'll just take more points from Gryffindor," I whisper urgently.

She doesn't listen.

"Let's try again, shall we- where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

I know this too. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat. I can also save you from most poisons.

Now I don't care if I loose points.

I raise my hand with Hermione.

"I don't know, sir," Harry says again.

"Please, sir, a bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons," I say.

"Be quiet, miss Potter. I did not ask you. Or do you take pride in being an insufferable know-it-all?"

I am now quiet. That hurts. That's really low, coming from a teacher. I don't cry. I am strong. I have been called a know-it-all before, even at muggle school. I just ignore the comment.

"Hmm, thought you wouldn't open a book, eh, Potter?"

I feel sorry for Harry now.

"Now, what is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?"

Same as last time, I raise my hand with Hermione.

Again, Harry has no idea.

"I don't know, sir," he says. "But I think Sarah and Hermione do, why don't you ask them?"

We all laugh. This cheers me up.

Snape clearly isn't pleased.

"Quiet! Now sit down!" Snape snaps at Hermione, she's standing up. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful that is it called the draught of living death-"

I am right.

"-a bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons-"

I got that right too. Why didn't he say anything before when I got it right? That git.

"- as for Monkshood and Wolfsbane, they are the same plant which goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying this down?"

I hear a rummaging of parchment as everyone is getting out their notebooks. Over the noise Snape says "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor for your cheek, Potter."

Git.

The rest of the lesson did not improve.

Snape puts us into pairs and sets us up to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils.

I'm paired Hermione, Harry with Ron and Bonnie with Amy.

Bonnie isn't too happy. I found out that Bonnie doesn't like Amy much. Well I get it, they have totally different personalities.

Snape sweeps around watching us weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticising everyone but Malfoy, whom Snape seems to like.

Neville has somehow managed to melt Seamus' cauldron into a big blob and their potion is seeping across the floor burning holes in people's shoes. I was smart as I'd got onto my chair in time for it not to burn mine.

Within seconds, everyone one else is on their chairs too while Neville, who has been drenched in the potion, moans in agony as red boils spring up all over his arms and legs. Poor Neville.

"Idiot boy!" Snape snarls, he then clears the potion with a flick of his wand. We all get off our chairs.
"I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpers.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spits at Seamus.

He then rounds upon Harry and Ron who had been working next to Neville and Seamus.

Oh no!

"You-Potter-why didn't you tell Longbottom not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, huh? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

That is so unfair!

Harry opens his mouth to protest, but Ron kicks him and mutters something.

"Hey!" I say to Snape. "Harry had nothing to do with that! If you didn't notice, he was working on his own potion, and if you hadn't been favouring Malfoy, you would have told Neville not to add the quills."

"That's another ten points from Gryffindor, for back-chatting a teacher."

This is certainly a horrible lesson.