The Boy Who Dreamed

Magic Week

Izuku was having the time of his life at Hogwarts. Apart from the initial points loss in his first Transfiguration class, Izuku and Hermione had earned so many points in their first week that Gryffindor was almost double Slytherin's score.

All of the teachers were incredibly good at what they did, and despite the fact they had only done theory so far the two Gryffindors were eager to learn more.

The only class they hadn't had yet was Potions, taught by Professor Snape, but that would be rectified in the next few minutes as Izuku and Hermione stood outside the old wooden door of one of the dungeons alongside the rest of the Gryffindor first years.

  As the first years trimmed in green and silver finally arrived, chatting amongst themselves and occasionally throwing the odd sneer in the Gryffindor's direction.

  The dank dungeon's door was slammed open from within, a wave of ice cold air brushing past the first years, and a rotten smell that couldn't be identified. Potions? Dead plants? Dead bodies? It could have been any of them, though the last would confirm the rumors spread by a pair of identical older students that Professor Snape murdered any student who failed their end of year exams.

  "Enter." A cold voice commanded from within.

  The Slytherins walked through the damp doorway first, obviously already familiar with both the environment and the voice.

  As Izuku passed through the doorway his eyes adjusted to the sudden gloom, and he could make out a black robed shape standing beside the doorway. Shoulder length greasy hair, a long, hooked nose and thin lips that were even thinner thanks to his constant scowl.

  Professor Snape did not look like he was looking forward to this lesson.

____

  "Tell me Mr Midoriya, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

  Izuku briefly panicked as Hermione's hand shot into the air before remembering that he'd read that chapter of his Potions textbook not 24 hours before. The last chapter of the textbook was almost entirely dedicated to the Draught of the Living Death. As a slightly advanced potion it provided a comparison to the first year potions contained in prior chapters. It wouldn't be an actual part of the curriculum until 6th year, as even with his extra reading Izuku didn't understand more than half the steps needed to brew it.

  "The Draught of Living Death, sir."

  The man seemed surprised for a moment, dark eyes examining the green haired boy before moving on.

  "Miss Granger... What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

  Hermione didn't even need the few seconds Izuku did to think over his answer.

  "There is no difference Professor, they are different names for the same thing. It is also known as aconite." She said, her prim and proper voice earning a few snickers from around the classroom.

  Snape appraised the similarly busy haired child sitting next to Izuku with an identical look. His eyes snapped to one of the boys who'd laughed, Weasley, Izuku thought.

  "Mr Weasley. Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

  Hermione's hand shot up again, despite the fact that Snape's back was turned to her. Weasley meanwhile, was turning red from the tips of his ears down to his neck.

  "I don't know." He shrugged half heartedly.

  Snape seemed almost joyful that a student couldn't answer the question. It was a little sad, in Izuku's opinion, that the easiest of the three questions was the one that couldn't be answered. What magical child didn't know where a bezoar came from? They're practically the first aid kits of the Magical world! Well, for potion accidents, poisoning and infections anyway. Most other things like broken bones, scuffs, cuts and bruises could be fixed with a single spell, according to Moste Magike Maladies.