With transfiguration class coming to a close we headed over to potions class. I had heard some rumors about the Professor teaching this class. Some rumors said he is a genius at potion crafting and others said he was a dark wizard that had served Voldemort.

I hadn't expected my first impression of him to be such a sour one. It started when he eyed down the class and said," In this class, I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even... put a stopper in... Death."

His arrogant demeanor had already bothered me but was amplified by his last statement. Put a stopper in me will you? My mind raged at his previous declaration.

Snape jolted a little as he must have felt my pure killing intent. I rarely lose my temper or even get angry but the man's superior attitude and cocky statement got under my skin. I reined in my anger quickly, but not so fast that the Professor couldn't sense it.

Snape reached for his wand when he felt the surge of my anger, but now put the wand away. It was highly likely the wizarding society would heavily frown on a teacher attacking a student under the premise," He looked at me wrong".

"You there! Small boy! What is your name?" Snape demanded.

"Benjamin Diggory", I answered coldly with a glare.

"Benjamin Diggory? Ah, yes our resident celebrity..." Snape scoffed.

"Tell me Diggory! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood? ", Snape demanded, confident he would make me a fool.

" A sleeping potion so powerful it is called the draught of living death," I answered correctly leaving out the details of which he would most likely be unaware.

"Very good DIGGORY", Snape seethed through somewhat gritted teeth.

" Then where would you look boy if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Hermione raised her hand trying to take a turn but was ignored.

"In a goat's stomach: a Bezoar is a hard mass that can be turned into a poison antidote", I replied hoping my answer was correct enough to prohibit Snape from being able to berate me. Petty, I know, and I should be trying to hide my knowledge but... I Refuse to lose to this bastard!

I left out that a Bezoar is actually a kind of non-cancerous tumor formed in a goat's stomach by eating poisonous and magical substances. He didn't need to know how things really work, just how to use cookbooks designed for those who can't theorize.

Snape even asked me the difference between three plants that were actually the same one. Like I wouldn't know a poison by another name, not that he would know it was literally my expertise. In this, I could say that if it were possible for me to truly forget as mortals do that I have forgotten more than he will ever know. Being a Primordial entity is a complicated existence...

Snape continued to demand answers to questions far more advanced than is appropriate for first years ...much less the very first day of class.

Ultimately, after twenty minutes of grilling, Snape finally told us resentfully to head to our brewing stations.

He began going over a recipe for a potion to cure boils. The recipe although functional was somewhat ridiculous. It had instructions like," stir 7 times spaced out a second between stirs". How had potions crafting devolved into this? Does no one understand the science by which it works anymore? Abraham the mage would be ashamed to learn his hard work was lost to time. Abraham was the Nikola Tesla of magic and the first wizard and yet... few know of him at all.

Following the recipe to the letter deemed difficult for most of the children. As is typical in the kitchen mistakes and accidents happen. The more pressure you put on youths the more likely they are to fail as well.

Neville was the first to fail and also the one who failed the worst. It was a simple mistake being that he just added an ingredient too early in the potion. Doing so reversed the effect causing boils instead of erasing them. For some reason, the brew melted the pot and spread on the floor.

I acted quickly pretending to use wandless magic by common reflex-like every wizard and witch here did to get a letter in the first place. I froze the concoction before it could spread rendering it inert so that Neville would not be covered in boils. Snape cast a spell to make the ice and brew disappear right before he berated Neville for being an idiot. So he put the quills in too early, why are we using quills and not a concentrated extract anyway?

Where are the measured beakers, diffusers, and droppers that Abraham used? This might as well be a cooking class!

"AND YOU DIGGORY! There will be no uncontrolled incantations in my class, 10 points from Ravenclaw." Snape snapped.

I just walked away from the buffoon: he isn't worth my time and neither is the petty house cup. Hermione said, "That's so unfair, it really wasn't your fault". I noticed her squeezing her hand earlier when Snape was clearly targeting me. She must really hate bullying or perhaps just that professor.

" I'm glad he didn't dock Griffindor for Neville's mistake, but sorry he went after you instead. It's our first day and instinctual casting happens in dangerous situations," Ron added.

"Thank you for what you did..." said an awkward and slightly pudgy boy known as Neville.

"No problem, just be more careful. Snape's a real piece of work and would have let you suffer the boils that potion would have covered you with," I explained.

"Wait... You did that on purpose!" Hermione gasped in realization.

Neville shivered thinking about what almost happened, "Than... Thanks again, Do you mind if I come along? I... I don't have that many friends".

Sure, the more the merrier!" I commented as I led the way to our next class. We talked along the way and as Neville got to know us he seemed to open up more. My success at befriending the three future heroes overturned my previous sour mood from meeting Snape. Progress regardless of how slow was finally being made.