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Potions class was held in a dungeon classroom. It was even colder and damper than the main castle upstairs. Along the walls were rows of glass jars, filled with all kinds of creepy preserved animal specimens.
Just like Professor Flitwick, Snape started class by taking roll. When he got to "Augustus," there was a noticeable pause.
As Head of Slytherin House, Snape was obviously aware of Augustus's reputation, and by now he'd heard plenty about him from various sources.
For such a promising Slytherin first-year, even Snape's usual stern expression held a hint of something unreadable.
"Oh, yes," he said, and when he reached Harry's name, his tone suddenly changed, "Harry Potter — our new celebrity." Augustus observed this with a flicker of surprise.
Among all the professors who usually seemed to favor Harry, here was one showing open disdain. It was obvious Snape was being sarcastic — most in the room could hear it.
Draco Malfoy and his pals Crabbe and Goyle were already snickering into their hands.
After finishing roll call, Snape looked up at the class. His pitch-black eyes were cold and empty, like two dark tunnels.
"You're here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began.
His voice was barely louder than a whisper, but everyone heard him clearly. Like Professor McGonagall, Snape had that quiet but terrifying authority that kept a classroom in perfect order.
"There will be no foolish wand-waving in this class, so many of you might not believe this is magic. I don't expect you to truly understand the beauty of a softly simmering cauldron, the delicate aroma wafting through the air... the liquid that creeps through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses..."
His eyes swept across the room."I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even stop death — if you aren't the bunch of dunderheads I usually have to deal with."
To Augustus, who had been through countless highs and lows in life, and had reached a near-demigod level of magic mastery, Snape's so-called "inspiring" speech felt a little hollow.
Unlike the students around him who were clearly captivated and raring to go, Augustus had long become numb to the drama of life and death.
For him, the only thing that mattered was the pursuit of the truth behind magic itself.As for "stopping death"? That's one of nature's most terrifying laws — even at god-tier, Augustus wouldn't dare claim he could defy it.
When Snape finished his dramatic little speech, the class was dead silent. Everyone seemed spellbound.
Harry and Ron raised their eyebrows and exchanged looks. Hermione Granger was practically hanging off the edge of her chair, leaning forward eagerly — clearly determined to prove she wasn't a dunderhead.
"Potter!" Snape barked suddenly. "What do you get when you add powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
"I don't know, sir," Harry replied.
Snape curled his lip in disdain.
"Tut, tut — fame clearly isn't everything."
He pointedly ignored Hermione's hand, which was still waving in the air like a flag.
"Let's try again. Potter, if I asked you to find me a bezoar, where would you look?"
Harry glanced helplessly around. Aside from Hermione still practically begging to answer, most of the Gryffindors wore the same lost expression.
The Slytherins, of course, looked like they were enjoying the show.Then Harry's eyes landed on Augustus — who looked slightly impatient.
For some reason, the memory of how Augustus had handled Malfoy on the train flashed through his mind, and Harry gave him a hopeful look, silently asking for help.
Truth be told, Augustus had already been getting annoyed by the time Snape asked the second question. He was here to learn from the best and absorb magical theory — not waste time watching a teacher single out a student just to mess with them.
"Professor Snape," Augustus said calmly, "since Harry doesn't know the answer, perhaps another student could offer their insight? Miss Granger, for example."
His voice, smooth and composed as always, broke the heavy silence in the room. Everyone froze for a second, then turned to look at him in shock. Questioning Snape — in his class — took guts.Even some of the Slytherins looked confused. Why would Augustus go out of his way to help a Gryffindor?
For a split second, something like annoyance flickered in Snape's eyes — but it vanished quickly, replaced by a sharp, assessing look. Watching Augustus sit there with an air of quiet confidence, Snape's gaze lingered for a moment.
"Very well, Mr. Augustus," he said coolly. "You answer both questions."
His voice was calm, but there was an icy undertone that made the already chilly dungeon feel even colder.
Unfazed, Augustus looked right at Snape and gave both answers effortlessly.
Snape gave a small nod and, for once, didn't continue the interrogation. Instead, he turned and walked back to the front of the classroom.Just like that, the tension was over.
Everyone was stunned — they couldn't tell whether to admire Augustus's boldness or be shocked that Snape had let it go so easily.
As for Harry, this was the second time Augustus had stood up for him, and he couldn't help but feel extremely grateful.
The rest of Potions class carried on, but things didn't get any better for the Gryffindors. Snape paired everyone up to brew a simple cure for boils.
Augustus was partnered with Moyen, the same student he'd defeated effortlessly during the hidden prefect duel.
Moyen was overjoyed to be in a group with him — in fact, most of the Slytherin first-years had started to develop a quiet sense of admiration for Augustus.
As Augustus focused intently on preparing the potion ingredients according to the instructions, disaster struck nearby. Neville somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a lumpy, twisted mess, and the potion inside went splashing all over the stone floor.
It was a large spill, and several nearby students didn't get out of the way in time — the potion ate straight through their shoes.
Seeing the spreading liquid creeping toward them, many students jumped up onto their stools to avoid the mess.
Augustus frowned slightly, then pulled out a silver wand and pointed it at the floor. A cleaning charm swept through the area, instantly vanishing the spilled potion.
Snape gave Augustus an approving nod and awarded him ten points, then turned and roared at Neville, who had started crying.
"IDIOT! I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire, didn't you?!"
As ugly boils began to pop up on Neville's nose, Snape turned to Seamus with a look of disgust and snapped, "Take him up to the hospital wing."
And that was how Potions class ended — in a bit of a mess. The students trickled out of the dungeon in small groups, climbing the stone steps.
Hermione trailed behind Harry and Ron, casting a glance at Augustus, who was still calm and composed despite being surrounded by a group of admiring Slytherins.
"I told you," she said proudly to the boys, "even if he is in Slytherin, Augustus was never going to end up like those Slytherins."
Ron grunted something through a mouthful of food, while Harry seemed lost in thought.That white-robed boy from the train still hadn't changed one bit. Still just as sharp, just as striking.
"....."