Severus Snape strode towards his potions class room for the first day of class with the newest students, a sneer forming on his face as he began to think over of what he had seen thus far. Crabbe and Goyle were just as dimwitted as their fathers were, Draco was already acting like a typical Pureblood, and none of the others had stood out.
Well, except for one, Harry bloody Potter.
How in the world Potter had ended up in his house was beyond the Potions Master. Either fate was cruel beyond belief or someone had finally managed to figure out a way to charm the Sorting Hat… his money was on the Weasley twins.
Regardless he was stuck with the boy for now, unless he could convince Dumbledore to transfer him elsewhere.
He pushed open the door as he made his way towards the front of the classroom. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that the raven-haired boy was turning through the last few pages of his text book, glancing at each page for a moment before continuing on.
Perhaps he hadn't read in advance as all of the others had been told to do, this put the professor in a difficult spot. Severus had a general philosophy, never take points from Slytherin. It wasn't that he hated the other houses, it was for the simple task of isolating his own house more than they already were. Slytherin is the house of cunning, of manipulations, and, surprisingly enough, of unity. By forcing the other houses to develop that rivalry it helped the talented students from the house of snakes adapt and grow far faster than they normally would have.
No reason to let them get lazy after all.
The problem was that he wanted to take points from the boy so very badly . Lily's son or not, he resembled James Potter far more than the angelic woman who was his mother.
"Potter"
"Sir"
At least the boy knew respect, regardless of his father, "It appears you did not read ahead as was suggested before school began."
The boy just smiled back, "I seem to have missed that information sir, my apologies."
A patented sneer formed on his face, and he ignored the whimpers of several Gryffindors. "There is no excuse, so tell me… what is the last ingredient added to our first potion, the 'boil removal'?" There was no way the boy would remember such a fact, and although it would cost Slytherin some points…
"Powdered goat bones"
The man halted, the boy was right… but he certainly didn't expect him to be.
"Correct…"
Maybe he had actually read ahead and just pretended not to? Interesting…
"Then perhaps you could inform the class how many times to stir a 'Wolfesbane' potion?"
It would be almost four months before they even studied this, there would be no reason he would know…
"Nine, five clockwise and four counterclockwise."
Now even the other students looked surprised.
What followed would go down in Hogwarts legend as the Professor tried nearly a dozen different questions from various chapters in the book, and Harry answering each question easily. By the end nearly all of the Slytherins had brought out parchment, along with Hermione Granger from Gryffindor, to take notes for future reference. The rest of the lions were simply staring in shock as the boy, who they all thought for sure would end up in their house, breeze through the 'test'.
"One hundred points to Slytherin…" If Snape couldn't take points due to the boy's failure, then he would certainly not miss the opportunity to begin working towards the House Cup.
"Wh-what that isn't fair! You didn't even give us a chance!"
Ah yes, trust a Gryffindor, especially a Weasley, to make a scene and present an opportunity. "Is that right Mr. Weasley? Tell me then, what is the last ingredient in the 'boil removal' potion?" The boy faltered, and glanced around as if to get some sort of clue.
Ignoring the desperate hand raising, practically flailing, of the bushy-haired Gryffindor Snape stalked towards his target. "Come now Mr. Weasley, surely you can at least copy Mr. Potter's answers."
The boy's face turned almost as red as his hair. A sure fire way of getting a reaction from the 'house of the brave' was to imply that they were inadequate to another house, especially his own.
"Well? I gave Mr. Potter half this time to answer. A response if you will."
"I… I don't know sir…"
"Ten points from Gryffindor for poor preparations. I would not expect someone of your caliper to be as informed as a Slytherin but I do expect reading up on what we will be working on for that day." With that the man turned back to the front of the room, before a wave of his wand displayed a list of components for them to collect.
...
"Welcome class, welcome. Today you will have your first flying lesson. First you will practice calling your broom, simply extending your hand out and call 'up'."
The various students did as instructed, with varying success. Some managed to raise the object a foot, before it fell back down, others were able to call it after a few tries, and a select few failed completely.
None noticed that Harry hadn't even bothered with the command.
"Now, those who have succeeded in calling the broom will mount and float a foot off the ground. Meanwhile I will be helping the rest of you…" Before she got any further in her instructions the professor watched in shock as Neville Longbottom's broom took off, with him trying desperately to hold onto it.
"Mr. Longbottom! Come back here this instance!" No one was quite sure whether he heard the command over his own screams or not, but seconds later the boy plummeted into the ground, spraining his arm in the process.
A wand wave later and the woman was busy escorting the boy towards the medical ward.
"I will be back shortly, if anyone so much as thinks about taking off I will have you in the Headmaster's office faster than you can say 'Quidditch'."
With that she departed, leaving the other students standing awkwardly in the field. A small gleam among the grass drew Harry's attention, as he walked over and picked up a small orb.
"I'll be taking that Potter."
Malfoy again, Harry forced back the urge to reach out and snap the annoying blonde's neck as he glanced over at him. "I believe Neville dropped this, we have class with him later today so I will be able to return it."
"Why bother? The boy is a class 'O' screw up. I would much rather put it somewhere high up where he will have to look for it."
"You're such a prat Malfoy."
"Weasley" The boy hissed back, focusing his attention on the redhead.
"Yeah, me. Are all you Slytherin's so stuck up that you can't think of anyone else for a second?"
"Perhaps if you were a bit more intelligent then you would actually prove to be a decent conversationalist, but I will leave that to your Mudblood instead."
"Mudblood?" Harry inquired with curiosity, earning a wince from the bushy-haired witch standing nearby.
"It is a term for Muggleborn witches…" she whispered out, having already been called it several times since arriving at the school.
"Not one of endearment then…"
"No"
The raven-haired boy hummed to himself in consideration before pocketing the orb, apparently more things would need to change than he originally anticipated.