September 6th, 1991"Seamus Finnigan," Professor Snape drawled as he went over the roll, just as each
professor had done in the rest of her classes.
"Here."
"Gregory Goyle."
"Here."
"Hermione Granger."
"Present!" Hermione said, raising her hand, immediately drawing the professor's
attention.
Black eyes fell on her, and suddenly she felt as though she'd done something wrong.
The professor stared at her, a look of concentration on his face as though he were trying
to place her. After a moment, his gaze drew away from her, though he had a sudden sneer
fixed to his face. As his focus moved on to the next name on the list, Professor Snape
reached a hand up and subconsciously rubbed at his jaw as though it ached.
Snape's eyes drew back to the list where his gaze narrowed further. "Ah, yes," he
said softly. "Harry Potter. Our new... celebrity."
Hermione turned to look at Harry. He had been nice to her on the train despite his
red-headed friend being a bit of a prat, and Hermione couldn't help but feel a little bad for
him over all the unwanted attention he was receiving. She'd read up on his story in Modern
Magical History, The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth
Century, and despite the fact that the books all focused on Harry's supposed defeat of You-
Know-Who, Hermione couldn't help but feel the grief over everything that the boy had
lost.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," Professor
Snape began. Hermione focused her entire attention on him, eager to begin her studies
under an actual Potions Master. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you
will hardly believe this is magic. I do not 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