The group of friends made their way to the dungeons where their Potions class will be taking place. None of them even slightly excited, more like terrified of what they should expect. If Rhea wouldn't have some stories from her uncle as well, she would have thought that the older students in their house were just trying to scare them off. But because she believed Remus she was also slightly anxious about what is to come.
They made it into the classroom before it was time for class. The classroom already held some Ravenclaws there. Eager minds to learn. The desks in the classroom were long. Just enough for all six of them to fit behind one table. Alicia was first to slip in, quickly followed by Angelina. Rhea went next and after her Fred so the two of them were in the middle of the long table. After Fred, George and Lee sat down, occupying the last two remaining seats at the end of the table.
Rhea looked around the room. It was big. A further down the room she could see some lone tables, with large shelves holding all sorts of vials and flasks, filled with liquids of various colours. That must be the part where they will be brewing Potions. And the part where they are now is simply for theoretical parts. Overall the interior was very dark. But Rhea couldn't decide if it was for the fact that the dungeons were under the black lake so having windows here would be more than unnecessary, or if it was for the fact that the room was just generally designed to give fright in your bones. If that was the main aim, the one that decorated the room did a great job. Rhea felt like it was ten degrees colder than before when she stepped a foot into the class.
Whilst in Rhea was fully focused on the stack of old books that were stashed in the library in the far corner of the room other students were chatting loudly with one another. Excitement bubbling inside the room mixing with slight worries about how this class will go. A few minutes later the doors burst open, all the students growing quiet and Rhea snapping out of her daze to look at the man that has now entered the classroom. A tall pale man, with death-like eyes and hair long and darker than the crow's feathers. He had on long dark robes, that were swaying behind him whilst he walked further into the classroom. His robes reminded Rhea of the cape of some villain that she saw on the Tv once when Remus allowed her to watch a movie with him.
A permanent scowl seemed to be gracing his features as he glared at the students in front of him. His glare only hardening when his eyes fell on Rhea. It was clear as day who she was, Snape had even heard about her coming and was strictly against such idea of a younger student attending his classes, especially the one of Black heritage.
"There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class." He stated in a monotonous voice. It sure was different from the usual good morning class that they would get in other classes. The first sign that Snape won't be like the others. "As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making. However, for those select few who possess the predisposition, 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." Rhea feeling intrigued by the topic suddenly kept her eyes fixed on the Professor the whole time. And Snape didn't fail to notice. Giving the girl a hard stare he continued. "Then again, maybe some of you don't have the predispositions in your genes to be anything more than troublemakers." The last part of the sentence leaving his lips harshly as his eyes bore into Rhea.
But surprisingly unlike any other first year, she didn't flinch, neither did she cower away embarrassed. She sat there proudly in her seat. Her back straight as a ruler, just looking at the Professor, her pale green eyes staring with the same amount of intensity that he was giving her. Which gave Snape the taste of spite yet again. The cocky confidence, as he would call it, was all too familiar to him. And he despised the person that possessed the trait. So it came naturally that he wasn't practically having the feeling of fondness towards the young Black girl.
YOU ARE READING
Pranking Hearts
Fanfiction"And how else was I supposed to figure out what was wrong?" "By talking to me?! You know that is the thing that normal people do when there is an issue. They talk." "But you weren't talking to me!" "Because you were acting like a git!"
