Hermione Granger and the Philosopher's Stone

The First Day Part 2

Hermione learned something fairly quickly during that class. Potions was hard. Unlike the previous classes which mostly required theoretical knowledge, potions was more of skill than anything else. Cut the ingredients wrong, or badly, and the potion loses potency. Taking into account that she only had a limited amount of ingredients and wasn't allowed to start again every time an ingredient was less than perfect because otherwise she wouldn't finish by the end of the class, Hermione felt that she performed less than stellar.

She still managed to get a passing nod of approval from the professor – which promptly made her forgive him for the embarrassment she had led partly by his hand –, but she wasn't the star pupil this time. That honor went to Draco Malfoy. The platinum haired boy chopped ingredients as if he had done it a thousand times before. Frankly there was an even bored look on his face – as she had noted was on there during most classes. Hermione tried not to be bitter. After all this was why she wanted to befriend him, wasn't it? Because he was not – as professor Snape had so eloquently put it – a dunderhead.

Still Hermione couldn't say she wasn't a tiny bit pleased when Snape's loud praise of the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs was interrupted by clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filling the dungeon. All attention went to Neville whose potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Quickly Hermione jumped onto her stool, urging Tracy to do the same, and within a minute everyone had followed her example.

Hermione grimaced as she noticed that Neville had gotten drenched with his faulty potion and red, angry boils started to spring up on his arms and legs. Her grimace deepened even more when the professor noticed as well.

"Idiot boy!" snarled professor 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 his Gryffindor partner. Then he rounded on Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, who had been working next to Neville.

"You — Potter — why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

Which wasn't fair. Hermione couldn't help but frown along with the two boys. Had the professor taken points from Gryffindor for Neville endangering other students with his stupidity then she would have understood. But neither Harry nor Ron had had anything to do with the accident. Despite the way Harry had dragged her along into his humiliation, Hermione felt quite a bit sorry for him.

She was going to tell him too, after class. She was going to tell him that the way the professor had treated him wasn't and that he shouldn't get his spirits down, because surely the rest of Gryffindor house would understand that this was not his fault. She was going to tell him when she saw him an hour later, about to enter the Great Hall. She was going tell him until she heard Ronald Weasley's disgust filled voice.

"Merlin, that Granger's such a teacher's pet. I mean, doesn't she get cramps in that arm?"

It was like at the last moment realizing you were about to walk against a glass door. She wasn't aware there was already a barrier between them and she had no doubt that if she hadn't heard Ronald's comment, she would have walked right into it. She would have explained her thoughts filled with good intentions and would have been laughed at as a thanks.

Instead Hermione clenched her fists by her side and jutted her chin up, snapping: "Pardon me for having enough braincells to rub together to actually figure out the answer when a teacher poses a question."