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The Potions classroom at Hogwarts was located at the bottom of the castle, an eerie and dim place that matched Professor Snape's ominous presence. As he entered the room with a loud boom, the heavy atmosphere only intensified. No one dared to breathe too loudly, not even Ron, who was usually the most talkative.

Snape strode to the front, his robes billowing behind him, and with a wave of his wand, the windows slammed shut, making the already dark room feel even more claustrophobic.

"In my class, you are not allowed to wave your wands or recite spells," Snape began, his voice cold. "I don't expect many of you to appreciate the profound science and precise craftsmanship of Potions."

His gaze swept the room, his hawk-like eyes narrowing. "Since there is no silly wand-waving here, some of you may not believe this is magic. But I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even stop death itself—if you're not the dunderheads I usually encounter."

He placed one hand on the podium, his eyes flashing with disdain.

As Snape continued his speech, Harry sat silently at his desk, scribbling something down and not paying attention. Without Hermione's usual prompting, he missed the warning signs in Snape's body language, the cold fury in his eyes.

"Mr. Potter!"

Harry jumped, startled at the sound of his name. Laughter rippled through the classroom as Snape loomed over him, glaring.

"Tell me, Potter, what would happen if I added narcissus bulb powder to a draught of absinthe stem liquid?"

Harry stared back, dumbfounded. "I... I don't know."

Snape's lips curled into a sneer. "I see fame isn't everything. Let's try something simpler: where would you find a bezoar?"

Harry shook his head again, his embarrassment growing under Snape's gaze. "I don't know, Professor."

"And what's the difference between aconite and wolfsbane?"

"No... I don't know that either."

Snape let out a soft, derisive laugh. "Clearly, you have a lot to learn, Mr. Potter. Five points from Gryffindor for your ignorance and insolence." He turned away, his gaze landing on Dyroth Grindelwald.

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"Mr. Grindelwald, perhaps you can enlighten our 'savior' and answer the question."

Dyroth stood up calmly, unfazed by Snape's sarcasm. "Narcissus bulb powder added to absinthe stem liquid, when heated, produces the Decoction of Living Death, also known as the Water of Life and Death. Bezoars can be found in the stomachs of goats, and aconite and wolfsbane are two names for the same plant."

Snape didn't even glance back, though his tone grew colder. "Correct. Five points to Slytherin." His voice dropped. "But if I see that smug grin again, Mr. Grindelwald, I won't hesitate to remove you from my classroom."

Dyroth sat down, his expression neutral, though the tension between him and Snape was there.

Potions class continued, with Snape instructing them on the proper handling of dried nettles and snake fangs. The students were paired off for their brewing, Slytherins with Slytherins, and Gryffindors with Gryffindors. Dyroth, partnered with Draco, watched as Ron and Seamus teamed up. A sense of foreboding crept over him.

He remembered the disaster that occurred when Neville botched his potion in the original timeline, though Neville wasn't here this time. But Seamus... Dyroth had a bad feeling.

He nudged Draco, pulling him to the corner of the classroom. "Let's stay out of trouble, just in case."

Draco raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. The Cure for Boils Potion wasn't particularly difficult to brew, and the two of them worked through it efficiently, moving through the steps with ease.

"Well, well," Snape's voice echoed across the classroom. "It seems our Slytherin prefect isn't as helpful as his reputation suggests." His eyes gleamed with mockery as he glanced at Dyroth .

Dyroth shrugged. "I thought I'd give others the opportunity to improve."

Snape smirked, his face tightening in disapproval. But before he could respond, a loud bang echoed through the room.

A green, acidic potion exploded violently from Ron and Seamus's table, spraying everywhere. The corrosive liquid hissed as it ate through wood and stone, and screams erupted as nearby students were splattered with the substance.

Snape, closest to the blast, was drenched. His face twisted in fury, his voice booming. "IDIOTS!"

But the chaos didn't stop there. The explosion caused several cauldrons to tip over, and the flames beneath them spread rapidly. Soon, the entire classroom was in pandemonium, with students scrambling to avoid both the flames and the spreading acid.

"Aguamenti!"

Dyroth quickly cast a spell, sending jets of water from his wand to extinguish the flames. A second spell from him cleared the debris, restoring a semblance of order to the ruined classroom.

"Everyone who isn't hurt, help the injured to the hospital wing!" Dyroth ordered, taking charge as students started assisting their classmates.

Dyroth smiled. Thinking "I knew something would go wrong. Even without Neville, Ron and Seamus were bound to mess things up."

Snape, soaked and furious, stalked over to Dyroth, his face livid. "Grindelwald," he growled, "if you look at me with that smirk again, I'll take great pleasure in removing your eyeballs."

His attention then snapped to Ron and Seamus. "Weasley! Finnigan! You'd better have a good explanation for your stupidity, or I'll have you scrubbing cauldrons for the rest of your life!"

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