nk of

dark tunnels.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of

potionmaking," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper,

but they caught every word -- like Professor McGonagall, Snape had

y caught every word -- like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the

gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little

foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is

magic. I don't 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 how to bottle fame,

brew glory, even stopper death -- if you aren't as big a bunch of

dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence followed this little speech. Harry and Ron exchanged

looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione Granger was on the edge of

her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn't

a dunderhead.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added

powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Powdered root of what to an infusion of what? Harry glanced at

Ron, who looked as stumped as he was; Hermione's hand had shot into

the air.

"I don't know, sit," said Harry.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer.

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

He ignored Hermione's hand.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you

to find me a bezoar?"

Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go

without her leaving her seat, but Harry didn't have the faintest

idea what a bezoar was. He tried not to look at Malfoy, Crabbe,

and Goyle, who were shaking with laughter.

"I don't know, sit." "Thought you wouldn't open a book before

coming, eh, Potter?" Harry forced himself to keep looking straight

into those cold eyes. He had looked through his books at the

Dursleys', but did Snape expect him to remember everything in One

Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi?

Snape was still ignoring Hermione's quivering hand.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and

wolfsbane?"

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the

dungeon ceiling.

"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione does,

though, why don't you try her?"

A few people laughed; Harry caught Seamus's eye, and Seamus

winked. Snape, however, was not pleased.

"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "For your information,

Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it

is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken

from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As

for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes

by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over

the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor

House for your cheek, Potter."

Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson

continued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a

simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak,

watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing

almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like. He was just

telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his

horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing

filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's

cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across

the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds,

the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had

been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in

pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away

with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills

before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

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