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Chapter 27 - Potions, DADA and Astronomy
Breakfast in the Great Hall felt unusually loud that morning, not because anyone was shouting, but because every conversation carried the same nervous edge. Before I even sat down, I heard students whispering frantically about Professor Snape. Some insisted he can read your mind as easily as reading a grocery list. Others claimed he once turned a student's hair green for breathing too loudly. A first-year swore she heard he transformed a whole class into flobberworms for talking during a lecture. I was fairly certain none of this was true, but the crowd around the Hufflepuff table seemed determined to terrify itself.
I took my seat quietly and began stirring my porridge. Jack, looking half-awake, dropped down beside me with a sigh heavy enough to flatten a pillow. Corin and Brookshire joined us a moment later. The four of us exchanged looks that said everything. Today we had Potions, and no one felt ready for it. I should probably be as anxious as everyone else, but a calm feeling sat in me like a well-kept secret. There was no reason for me to fear Snape, though I would never mention that to the others.
A memory drifted into my thoughts about our previous dealings. First, at the time of Aunt Lily and James's farewell, when Snape helped us to see them for a last time. And later, just last year, when I sought his assistance privately. He questioned me but never hesitated. He simply helped. He is sharp and mean but that is just a mask for the world. He has even kept it secret, for all I know about him, which I am quite sure as it concerns Lily's son.
Breakfast disappeared from the plates, and the hall began to empty. We gathered our things and walked toward the dungeons together. The deeper we descended, the colder and staler the air became, until sound felt like something we should avoid disturbing. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students were soon clustered outside the Potions classroom. No one stood still. Everybody shifted from foot to foot, whispering as if the stones themselves might be listening.
Jack leaned close to me and asked, "He can't be as bad as they say… right?"
Corin gave him a helpless shrug. Brookshire muttered something about rewriting his will. I simply told them, "We'll know soon enough."
Before anyone could add to their panic, the classroom door swung open on its own.
A soft but commanding voice calls out, "Enter."
We stepped inside. The room was dim, its ceiling low enough to make the space feel heavier. Shelves filled with jars lined the walls. Their contents float, curl, or twitched in ways I would prefer not to examine closely. The air held the scent of damp stone, sharp herbs, and something metallic that might linger at the back of the tongue.
Professor Severus Snape swept into the room like a cold wind. His black robes trailed behind him, moving without sound. He reached the front desk, turned sharply, and looked out over us with those dark, unreadable eyes.
"Welcome to Potions," he greeted us in his steady but cold voice.
No one moved.
"There will be no foolish wand-waving," he begun, the line sharp and familiar, "or silly incantations in this class. Many of you will find it difficult to believe that what we do here is magic at all. I will teach you the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. I can teach you to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death.....if you are not the usual dunderheads I am forced to teach."
He let the silence stretch before adding, "And if you prove capable."
He flicked his wand, and the blackboard was suddenly full with his instructions, "Today you will attempt a simple starter:- the Cure for Boils."
The Boil-Cure Potion was written at the top of the list, its ingredients and steps written with the precision of someone who expects perfection.
Someone behind me whispered, "These steps are little different than the book."
I replied quietly, "He's a Master Potioneer. He uses his own methods."
Snape's attention snapped toward me so sharply it felt like a gust of cold air. "Correct, Mr. Dursley, though your commentary was unnecessary."
A few students let out nervous sounds, somewhere between snicker and panic.
"Pair up," Snape instructed, "One cauldron per two."
Corin and I took the front-right table. Jack and Brookshire settled in behind us. Soon the room was full with the sounds of chopping, grinding, and bubbling. It was surprisingly calming once everyone began working.
Corin focused on chopping snake fangs, while I crushed dried nettles into powder. We moved in quiet rhythm, glancing at the board every few seconds to ensure we were following Snape's precise order.
Snape circled the room like a storm cloud, silent and unpredictable. He stopped beside Beatrice Haywood, who froze under his gaze.
"Miss Haywood, does the instructions tells you to shred the porcupine quills before adding them?"
She shook her head, "No, Professor."
"Then begin again without the theatrics."
Her cheeks reddened as she nodded and restarted her potion.
A few minutes later, he inspected Priya Chowdhary's cauldron. "Miss Chowdhary, your mixture is so thin it may attempt to escape. Fix it immediately."
Priya apologized frantically and tried to thicken her brew.
I kept stirring ours, watching the colour shift carefully. Eventually, the potion turned the warm orange we want. Corin gave me a small, relieved smile.
Snape appeared behind us without any warning. He peered into the cauldron and said in his usual tone, "Acceptable. Barely. One point to Hufflepuff."
Corin beamed openly while I tried to hide my smile.
Class ended with Snape stopping his patrol and ordering, "Bring your samples to the front. Clean your tables. And try to avoid injuring yourselves on the way out."
We bottled our potion and left the dungeon. The corridor outside felt pleasantly bright, as if we had escaped a storm.
After lunch, the four of us spent an hour in the library reading ahead for tomorrow. The quietness of library settled our nerves.
The next morning brought Defence Against the Dark Arts, and the classroom felt completely different from the dungeon and instead was warm, sunlit, and open. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw sat together again, but instead of tension, there was an easy curiosity in the air.
Professor Eldric Thorn stood at the front of the room. He was tall, composed, and carried himself with the sort of calm that made other people straighten their backs without realizing it. There were faint streaks of silver in his hair, which somehow made him look wise rather than old.
"Good morning," he welcomed us with a small smile, "I am aware of the rumours surrounding this position. I intend to remain here longer than my predecessors."
Laughter rippled across the room.
He launched into a clear explanation of dark creatures; What they are, How they behave, and How to recognize danger before it becomes a real threat. His tone was steady and patient, never dramatic. Afterward, he guided us through basic defensive stances, teaching us how to hold our wands correctly and how to keep our balance.
At one point, Gabriel Iglesias lost his footing and nearly toppled over. Thorn chuckled gently and says, "Feet first, wand second, Mr. Iglesias."
The lesson passed smoothly, and it was almost relaxing. No surprises, no explosions, and no shouting. When the bell rang, Thorn reminded us to bring our textbooks next time for simple defensive spell-work.
We left the classroom chatting quietly, pleasantly surprised by how calm the lesson felt.
Night brought us to the Astronomy Tower. The air was crisp, and the sky looked impossibly wide. Lanterns glowed softly around the platform, casting warm halos that contrasted with the cool night. Students huddled together for warmth as they gathered their star charts.
Professor Sinestra gestured gracefully toward the heavens, "Tonight, we will track the motion of Mars and observe changes in its brightness. Please mark your charts carefully."
Mars shone boldly against the dark sky, small but determined. I sketched its position in slow, deliberate strokes. Corin squinted at the stars, tilting his head dramatically as he tried to match the angles. Jack muttered that his fingers might freeze off. Brookshire insisted he can identify every constellation and pointed them out with far too much enthusiasm.
Sinestra moved gently among us, her presence calm and encouraging. When she stopped near my chart, she nodded approvingly. "Good work. Keep your lines steady. Astronomy requires patience, not speed."
As the hour passed, the tower was full with soft whispers and the faint scratching of quills. The moon drifted higher, and the cold nipped at our cheeks, but none of us seemed to mind. There was something peaceful about watching the sky together.
By the time we descend the long staircase back into the castle, my eyelids felt heavy in the most comforting way. It was a tiredness that settled warmly, reminding me I am living the life I have dreamed about for years.
When we reached the common room, the fire was still glowing in the hearth. I sat near it for a moment, letting the warmth soak into my hands before heading to bed. It has been a long day, but a good one.
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End of Chapter 27 - Potions, DADA and Astronomy