Classes, Cauldrons, and Snake-Haired Trouble
Harry and Percy didn't take long to get used to Hogwarts' style; in truth, it wasn't very different from their regular days. They had always been restless and used to having a thousand things to do every day. Visiting Dred, stopping by the neighboring Knights just to annoy them… or to make a friendly visit. Learning martial arts, sword fighting, or picking up some potion or magic tricks from anyone willing to teach them.
Compared to all that, Hogwarts classes weren't too extreme. The only real change was that, instead of studying algebra and vocabulary like in a normal school, now they had other subjects… very different ones, you could say.
Although one thing remained exactly the same: History. Even in a magical school, it managed to be boring. In fact, it seemed even worse, because the teacher giving the class was a ghost. Yes, exactly as it sounds: a ghost teaching History. Rumor had it that Professor Cuthbert Binns loved his job so much that one day he simply fell asleep in his office, and when he woke up, he went back to teaching, forgetting his body behind.
Even so, his classes were a spectacle… of endurance. Students used every ounce of willpower they had to stay awake.
And not many succeeded.
For example, Percy and Harry had fallen asleep instantly, one on top of the other, their heads resting together while Percy even drooled a bit. Ron, sitting beside them, didn't last much longer either. He collapsed onto his desk and, at one point, almost climbed onto it to use it as a bed.
That lasted until Hermione Granger, sitting at the next table, slapped her desk loudly. The sudden sound jolted all three boys awake.
Percy quickly wiped his mouth.
Harry shook his head and calmly adjusted his hat.
Ron shot Hermione an annoyed look, while she stared at them already exhausted… and it was only the beginning of the school year.
Then came Professor McGonagall's classes. In her first demonstration, she had turned her desk into a pig that started walking around the room while grunting.
Of course, her actual first lesson wasn't repeating that, but transforming a matchstick into a silver needle.
During the entire class, only three students managed to achieve the goal: Hermione Granger, seated next to Harry; Harry Potter; and Percy Jackson. Although, after transforming his needle, Percy wore a slightly guilty expression while his brother stared at him. Harry immediately realized Percy had cheated, because his matchstick was still very much a matchstick… even though everyone saw it as a perfectly made silver needle.
Percy wasn't as talented in magic as Harry; he could only use illusions. But he didn't want to fall behind his brother, especially now that he had ways to avoid extra classes.
"What's the next class?" Harry asked as he walked with Ron and Percy, who already seemed seconds away from causing trouble due to staying still for too long. But under Harry's constant watch, he couldn't sneak away to explore the castle as he desperately wanted to.
"It's a double Potions lesson. With the Slytherins," Ron said with a disgusted expression just from saying the house name. "My brothers say Professor Snape isn't very friendly with Gryffindors. And he always defends the Slytherins," he added, making it sound even worse.
Harry made a displeased face too. It had been a long time since he'd met a kid as irritating, arrogant… and annoying. Yes, annoying twice, because he really was. He even compared him to Dudley Dursley, and this Draco Malfoy seemed to surpass him. His looks, his comments, everything he did felt directed toward Percy and Harry, as if he wanted to pick a fight. If it were up to Percy, Malfoy would have already gotten a beating… but Harry didn't want trouble. Especially knowing their mother absolutely expected them to behave.
"Great," Harry said with a touch of sarcasm in Percy's style.
The classroom was deep within the castle, almost like a dungeon. The place was dark, damp, and full of Slytherins. As soon as Harry and Percy entered, they received Draco's stare, the boy already preparing some irritating comment.
Fortunately, he didn't have time to say anything, because Professor Snape stormed into the room like a bat, his black robes sweeping behind him.
Percy sat next to Neville. Harry sat with Ron at the next table.
"I do not expect you to truly understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes; the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the senses, enchanting the mind, ensnaring the heart...
I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death—if you were not as foolish as most of you look," Snape said, his voice cold as he walked across the podium.
Hermione Granger straightened instantly, as if trying to prove she was not one of those "fools." Most students were terrified by the professor's aura. Draco Malfoy smiled smugly; after all, this was the head of his house.
Snape ignored every glance as he took roll, until he stopped at a particular name.
"Ah, yes… Harry Potter. Our new celebrity."
His eyes met Harry's, and Harry didn't look away.
Then, without changing his tone, he continued: "Potter, what would I get if I added asphodel root to an infusion of wormwood?"
Hermione raised her hand so fast she nearly shot out of her seat; she was fully prepared to answer.
Harry, without breaking eye contact with Snape, replied with complete calm:
"A potion from the Underworld that would place your soul at the edge of the Fields of Asphodel, making your body appear dead in life," Harry answered, recalling the teachings of his Aunt Mor.
Snape raised an eyebrow at Harry's response before showing a mocking, almost contemptuous smile.
"Wrong. Then, where would you look for a bezoar?"
Hermione once again raised her hand energetically, but Snape ignored her again.
"In a goat's stomach," Harry replied, remembering Mark's lessons. Mark always seemed to want to teach him things just to show off his brilliance… but sometimes it was useful. And judging by Snape's annoyed expression, this time it clearly was.
"What is the difference between aconite and wolfsbane?" Snape asked immediately, while Hermione raised her arm again and the professor stepped closer to Harry.
Harry stayed silent for a few seconds, Snape smiling with a malicious expression as he waited for him to fail. But before Harry could speak…
"They're the same. 'Aconite' is the mythological name and 'wolfsbane' the botanical one. It's said that aconite was born from Cerberus' drool when Hercules dragged him out of the Underworld," Harry said, keeping his gaze locked firmly on the professor's dark eyes.
Snape let out a disdainful huff.
"I see you studied at least a little. But this is Potions, not your Greek mythology class. And I did not ask where it supposedly came from, so that is not the answer I wanted."
His voice sharpened.
"Seems fame isn't everything, eh, Potter?"
He straightened and walked back toward the blackboard, his robes trailing behind him.
"For your information: you would obtain a Sleeping Draught, also known as the Draught of Living Death. So I suggest you check what book you've been reading, Potter," he added, with the tone of someone who only cared about the single detail Harry "missed," completely ignoring that his other two answers had been perfect.
Harry remained calm, though inside he was burning with anger. Still, he remembered Professor Gema's teachings and every adult who had ever disliked a student: giving them attention only made them enjoy it more.
Too bad Percy didn't follow that philosophy as easily.
"That you say it doesn't exist, when you don't even know if it has different names elsewhere, doesn't mean he's wrong. It means you're not a good enough teacher to know it," Percy said angrily, speaking up for his brother.
Harry had seen that coming.
Meanwhile, Neville, sitting beside Percy, tugged desperately at his sleeve, trying to stop him.
Snape's gaze shifted to Percy. The entire room seemed to grow colder. Even Percy froze for a moment, surprised that a professor reacted like that… especially toward a first-year student.
"How interesting, Mr. Jackson," Snape said in a low, venomous voice. "According to you, my knowledge of potions is insufficient because I do not recognize the mythical names of your imaginary herbs."
His tone grew colder with every word.
"Perhaps when you manage to prepare a simple infusion without making it explode, we can discuss scholarship. Until then… five points from Gryffindor for insolence."
He turned sharply, his cape whipping behind him, though anyone could swear he clenched his jaw before speaking again:
"And if you speak again without being asked, Mr. Jackson… you will learn what it means to spend the entire afternoon scrubbing cauldrons without a wand."
Percy was about to explode; Harry knew it. But between Neville pulling on him and Hermione's sharp glare from behind, he had to swallow the comeback.
After that, everyone began following the recipe Snape had written on the board.
Everything went somewhat smoothly until Neville, who was seated beside Percy and could barely read the professor's handwriting, made a mistake. Suddenly, his cauldron exploded violently, flying into the air as a wave of greenish liquid shot straight toward him.
But, for some reason, as if something invisible had stopped it, the substance simply fell to the floor without touching him.
"Idiot!" Snape roared. "You added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire!"
He moved his wand quickly, vanishing the substance from the floor as students stepped back to avoid being burned.
Then he looked toward Harry and Percy.
"And why didn't you stop him? Two points from Gryffindor."
Percy was partly to blame, but Harry wasn't. That didn't stop Snape from deducting points anyway. And Harry suspected the professor had done it simply to irritate him again.
Snape didn't let them say anything; he continued walking between the tables as if they weren't worth another word.
Percy was fuming, but held it in as he checked if Neville had been burned.
Draco Malfoy, meanwhile, wore a smug smile that only fueled Percy's anger even more.
Harry watched his brother carefully.
He always felt calmer when Percy managed to hold himself back, because he knew that if Percy ever lost control, he would be the only one capable of stopping him.