Your Pov:
It is morning at Hogwarts, Harry and Ron are supposed to be in transfiguration but are running late, In the class, a tabby cat is sitting on a desk. Harry and Ron rush in Hermione and I roll our eyes in annoyance because they're late for class.
"Whew, we made it. Can you imagine the look on McGonagall's face if we were late?" Ron chuckles. "Well your about to see." I whisper. The cat jumps off the desk and transforms into Professor McGonagall. The two boys are amazed. "That was bloody brilliant." Ron says. "Thank you for that assessment, Mr. Weasley. Perhaps if I were to transfigure Mr. Potter and yourself into a pocketwatch, that way one of you might be on time." She says, making me snicker. "We got lost." Harry says. "Then perhaps a map? I trust you don't need one to find your seats." McGonagall says.
Later on, inside Snape's potions classroom, the students are chattering, sitting near steaming cauldrons. The door slams open and Snape comes rushing in.
"There will be no foolish wand waving or silly incantations in this class. 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." He says. Snape goes quiet, and Harry and I continue writing what Snape said in his lecture down, "Then again, maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel confidant enough to not...pay...attention." He growls Hermione nudges Harry and I, finally making us look up to the Professor. Snape then walks to where he can speak to us more properly. Mr. And Mrs. Potter. Our...new...celebrities. Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" He asks. Hermione raises her hand. Harry shrugs. "You don't know? Well, let's try again. Where, Mr. And Mrs. Potter, would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?" Hermione's hand raises again. "Pity. Clearly, fame isn't everything... is it, Mr. Mrs. Potter?" He growls.
"Please sir, if I can?" I smirk. "Go on...Mrs. Potter." He growls. "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. Was that good enough?" I smirk. He growls at me. "Shoukd you all be writing this down?" He growls.
"How did you know all that?" Harry asks. "I did some reading last night." I chuckle.