This morning's classes were two double periods: Transfiguration and Potions.
The Professors were sometimes quite adorable. They liked to secretly compete with Anton, their student, in certain areas, determined to take things he had invented—like the Flying Ring and Flying Potion—and come up with something interesting to say about them from their own perspective.
Lessons that strayed from the textbook syllabus sometimes gave the Young Wizards a real headache, because the long essays they had to write afterward were bound to be especially difficult.
But most of the time, the Professors knew exactly what the Young Wizards were interested in and taught them about things they enjoyed.
Anton enjoyed it too. His way of sharing his knowledge and then getting others to build on it with their own ideas usually began with what he first learned in the Professors' classrooms.
"Argus Filch, the Castle caretaker, has complained to me..."
Professor Snape strode briskly down the aisle between the desks, speaking in a clipped, rapid tone.
He reached the front of the classroom and turned around, gazing somberly at the faces below. "Recently, Young Wizards have been breaking the rules by using Cabin's Flying Potion Sweets to zip around the Castle and disturb the portraits while they're resting."
"I think I need to remind you once again that breaking school rules will earn you detention!"
"Ha~rry~~ Po~tter!"
Professor Snape's head whipped around, instantly locating Harry. He glared at the boy. "You've finally stopped showing off your apparently remarkable Quidditch talent and gotten off your Flying Broomstick..."
"But don't forget! Your Gryffindor House has already lost far too many points because of you. If you cared even a little about Gryffindor House's honor, you'd know to stop your foolish behavior!"
Professor Snape was still Professor Snape. He was still thoroughly annoyed by