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At exactly nine o'clock, Professor Snape appeared at the classroom door in his billowing black robes.
He strode inside with purposeful steps, his robes fluttering dramatically behind him like the wings of an enormous bat.
Erwin suspected the professor wore the same style of robe he'd worn during his visit to Garden Street.
In other words, Snape's entire wardrobe consisted of identical black robes.
The Potions Master swept past the assembled students without a word, walking directly to the front of the classroom.
His cold gaze swept across the students from all three houses.
His eyes lingered on Erwin for three seconds, then settled on Harry for five.
Without speaking, Snape retrieved the roster and began roll call.
His voice was not particularly magnetic, rather deep, actually, and carried an undertone of indifference.
He pronounced each name at a measured pace.
Yet somehow, everything sounded faintly mocking.
Finally, he reached Erwin's name.
He said nothing, merely staring at Erwin for several seconds.
Erwin didn't flinch, meeting Snape's gaze directly, though a hint of apology flickered in his eyes.
When Snape had come to guide him as an incoming student, the professor had clearly expected him to be sorted into Slytherin.
He certainly hadn't anticipated such blatant defiance.
Erwin felt genuinely embarrassed about that.
After all, he disliked Slytherin's atmosphere, not Snape himself.
Perhaps understanding the message conveyed in Erwin's eyes, Snape said nothing further and continued with the roll call.
Then he reached Harry's name.
He paused again.
"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new celebrity."
"Pfft!"
Erwin turned his head.
Draco Malfoy and his two cronies were covering their mouths, struggling to contain their laughter.
Catching Erwin's glance, Draco glared back defiantly.
Erwin ignored him completely, let Harry deal with the arrogant boy himself.
He had no interest in getting involved.
Harry shifted uncomfortably at the sudden targeting, unaware that this was merely the beginning.
Far worse days lay ahead.
Snape ignored the minor disruption beneath him and addressed all the students in his deliberate manner:
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic."
"I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses..."
"I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death, if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
The grand words flowed from Snape's mouth with practiced ease.
Before anyone could fully absorb his speech, he spoke again abruptly.
"Potter. What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Harry looked utterly lost.
'What is asphodel? What is wormwood? Who am I?'
Unable to answer, Harry simply stared blankly at Snape.
Nearby, Hermione's hand shot into the air immediately.
Unfortunately, Snape completely ignored her.
"Let's try again. Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" Snape continued.
But he was only met with silence.
"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Yet snape didn't stop.
Erwin observed the scene with quiet interest.
This could be described as the beginning of their famous feud.
From this moment forward, Snape and Harry would engage in years of bitter conflict.
But hearing those three questions, Erwin remembered an analysis from his previous life.
Snape's questions carried deeper implications.
Most notably, asphodel was used in potion-making, and when translated from Latin meant: "My regrets follow you to the grave."
Erwin found it hard to imagine what emotions Snape experienced while looking at that Potter face with Lily's eyes.
Harry resembled his father, James Potter, so strongly, yet his eyes were identical to his mother's.
Was it hatred for James Potter, who had bullied him throughout school?
Or guilt that his leaked information had led to Lily's death?
With this realization, Erwin looked at Snape with newfound pity and sympathy.
Snape caught Erwin's expression.
He didn't understand what the boy was thinking or why his look had changed, but that pitying gaze made him distinctly uncomfortable.
As if Erwin were regarding him like some pathetic creature.
Snape's eyes narrowed.
He fixed Erwin with an icy stare and spoke coldly.
"Mr. Gaunt, perhaps you would care to answer these three questions of mine."
Erwin was startled momentarily; he hadn't expected his observation to backfire so spectacularly.
But he recovered quickly and answered.
"Adding powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood produces the Draught of Living Death, a powerful sleeping potion."
"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."
Erwin answered all three questions smoothly, then offered Professor Snape an appeasing smile.
Snape's expression darkened.
Not only had this boy answered correctly, but now he was being cheeky about it?
Without pause, Snape fired off another question.
"If I wished to brew a Draught of Vigor, how should I prepare the figs?"
"Remove the skin."
"What potions can moonstone be used in?"
"The Dissolving Solution, but it must be ground into powder first."
"What is the primary difference between a Sleeping Draught and the Draught of Living Death?"
"A Sleeping Draught has strong hallucinogenic properties. Perhaps you should compare it to the Elixir that Induces Euphoria instead, Professor."
The other students sat with mouths agape, watching the rapid-fire exchange.
Everyone's scalp prickled with tension as they fell into the same confused state as Harry.
'Who am I? Where am I? What are these two even talking about?'
Snape took a deep breath and stopped his interrogation.
He spoke with biting sarcasm.
"Indeed, the blood of the Gaunt family runs true. These are not subjects you should have studied yet, but you clearly couldn't resist showing off."
Erwin felt rather speechless.
'You said yourself I shouldn't have learned this yet, so why ask me in the first place?'
Finding it difficult to target Erwin further, Snape turned his venom on Harry instead.
"Did you hear that, Potter? It seems not every student who just entered this school is as monumentally stupid and ignorant as you..."
"Look at what other students manage to accomplish..."
"Professor, I, " Harry began angrily, preparing to defend himself, but Snape gave him no opportunity.
"One point from Gryffindor for your stupidity!"
Then Snape looked at Erwin.
"One point to Ravenclaw."
He paused deliberately before speaking again.
"Remember to add 'Yes, Professor' when answering questions in the future. Two points from Ravenclaw for your rudeness!"
Erwin remained silent, knowing that anything he said now would only give Snape more ammunition to deduct house points.
The other students didn't dare breathe too loudly, but unfortunately, Snape wasn't finished with them either.
"Why are you all staring at me? Are the answers to my questions written on my face? Stop gawking and write everything down."
Still unsatisfied, he added another cutting remark.
"You are the worst class I have ever had the misfortune to teach."