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Chapter 10
Potions Class
The first messenger owl flew out of the Owlery, and the first trace of orange sunlight climbed onto the towers of Hogwarts Castle.
The corridors became lively again.
A large group of young wizards walked down the spiral stairs toward the dungeon.
“I heard the Potions teacher is Professor Snape,”
Michael rubbed his sleepy eyes. He had spent half the night studying a quill, and he was still yawning.
“It’s a rumor. I heard it in the Ravenclaw common room. The older students said Professor Snape is the one in all of Hogwarts who—”
He paused on purpose, making Terry stretch his neck and lean in closer. Even the whispers around them became quieter.
“He is the professor who deducts the most house points in all of Hogwarts.”
His voice trembled slightly. Combined with the colder environment, the young wizards all looked a bit pale.
In this artificially tense atmosphere, they arrived at the Potions classroom.
It was an underground classroom, colder than the castle above.
Even during the day, very little sunlight reached here.
The room was lit only by floating candles.
Glass jars lined the walls, filled with all kinds of preserved animal specimens.
Shane chose a seat not far from them. When he turned his head, he could see a bat spleen.
It was an ingredient used in potion-making, often for swelling potions.
Just as he sat down, a boy with dimples sat beside him.
“Shane, I knew you would come early.”
Justin smiled warmly and took out his glass bottles, placing them neatly on the table.
Michael, who had tried to sit next to Shane, widened his eyes in disbelief.
“Is this an illusion? When did he get here?”
Then he muttered and found another seat.
Soon, all the students had arrived.
Perhaps because of the cold environment, or perhaps because of the scary rumors about Professor Snape, no one dared to shout or make noise.
In the silence—
“Bang—!”
A loud noise came from the dungeon door.
A man with a sallow face and a hooked nose strode into the classroom.
His cloak flowed like black bat wings.
In just a few steps, he moved quickly, precisely, and decisively onto the platform.
“Listen—”
His voice was cold and low.
“This class does not require you to wave your wands wildly or chant spells foolishly…
So I suppose many of you will not understand how to appreciate the subtle science and precise art of potion-making.
However, for the very few who truly wish to learn,
I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and deceive the senses.
I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory…
There is only one condition!
That is—you are not the kind of idiots and fools I usually meet!”
His dark and powerful voice quickly silenced the entire room.
“Hannah Abbott! Tell me, how should you handle a flobberworm?”
His sharp gaze swept over like a storm.
The braided girl trembled under his stare.
“Boil it, Professor.”
Hannah had clearly read ahead. Even though it was only the first chapter, she was lucky to escape trouble.
“Sit down!”
Snape’s expression did not improve.
“Shane Green, tell me—how would you handle a flobberworm with tentacles?”
He leaned slightly forward, blocking the candlelight.
“Boil it longer, about three minutes, Professor.”
Shane answered immediately.
“Acceptable.”
Snape moved away instantly.
“Wayne Hopkins! What is a bezoar?”
He loomed over Wayne like a dark cloud. The boy spoke as if squeezing the words out:
“I don’t know, Professor.”
“If your troll-like brain could still function, you would know that a bezoar is a solid taken from the stomach of a goat, and it can be used as an antidote.”
Snape’s deadly gaze remained fixed on Wayne, who was already trembling.
“Sit down! Hufflepuff loses one point because of your empty head!”
He looked around the room. No one dared meet his eyes.
“The rest of you—why aren’t you writing this down?!”
Under the oppressive atmosphere, the young wizards wrote quickly, as if it could save them from the storm.
But Snape’s questioning continued.
“Ernie Macmillan!”
…
He was like a merciless machine for deducting house points.
By the end of the questioning, Ravenclaw had lost six points, and Hufflepuff had lost twelve.
Shane couldn’t help but think—
Slytherin’s six consecutive championships probably had something to do with Professor Snape’s efforts.
In the original story, Snape even memorized every student’s name to deduct points more efficiently.
Professor Snape really…
Then Snape spoke again, and Shane listened carefully.
“Listen closely. If anyone dares to change the potion recipe or alter the steps—”
His cold gaze swept across every face to ensure no one dared lose focus.
Then he began teaching the steps for a Cure for Boils.
It was a simple potion used to treat sores.
The cauldron in front of him steamed.
Within minutes, it bubbled and turned into a thick, dark green potion.
“I do not expect any of you to succeed quickly.
I only hope certain fools do not create something dangerous—
What are you waiting for? Work in pairs. Begin now!”
Justin’s face turned pale, though he tried to stay calm as he followed the steps.
Shane wasn’t much better—not because of Snape’s pressure, but because he was nervous about his unknown talent in potions.
“Flobberworms, dried nettles, crushed snake fangs, porcupine quills…
Shane, that’s correct, right?”
Justin asked nervously. Seeing Shane’s calm expression helped him relax a little.
“Mm.”
Shane nodded and began preparing the ingredients according to the book.
“Let’s follow the steps. We’ll start with the flobberworms.”
Justin immediately understood and started lighting the cauldron.
The book said the cauldron needed to be preheated.
“Use my cauldron?”
Justin asked softly.
Shane looked at Justin’s silver cauldron and nodded.
The quality of a cauldron did not greatly affect the potion, but Justin’s silver one was clearly better than Shane’s third-grade brass cauldron, which he had bought with difficulty.
It could increase their chances of success—even if only psychologically.
Having a hidden rich friend nearby wasn’t bad at all,
Shane thought.
