"It's not worth fighting with you, stupid kid, I don't have time to waste here, I'm late," —the girl says while quickly picking up her books.
"What class are you going to?"
"Leave her, Dion, she must be lost." —Patrick replies with an indifferent tone.
The girl, with her back turned and standing still for a moment in silence, confirms with her behavior that she also doesn't know the way to the classroom.
"So what if I am? It's none of your business, brat… I'm going to Potions class, so get out of my way," —she says as she turns and walks toward me, shoving me with her body to pass through one of the hallways behind me.
"Ha, good luck finding the classroom when you're going in the opposite direction. The only thing you'll accomplish is getting even farther away from your destination, hahaha." —Patrick says mockingly.
"If you know so much, brat, why don't you just say it already?" —the girl quickly comes back toward us and pulls out her wand, pointing it at Patrick—. "Or maybe you want to end up with a flower shop on your head, or better yet, lose all your hair?"
"Try it, and you'll be sneezing for life, or better yet, you'll be puking slugs forever," —Patrick says as he pulls out his wand and points it directly at her.
At this rate, the problem will escalate pointlessly, and things won't get any better. On top of that, we're already wasting time here.
"Lower your wands. I know this isn't the moment to get along, and if you want to fight, that's fine, but Patrick, look at the time. We don't have time for this. As for you…"
"My name's Phylicia," —the girl says, now calmer.
"Alright, Phylicia, it's your choice if you keep wandering through the hallways aimlessly, but if you'd like, you can come with us. We're going to the same class, so we share the same goal: not to fail on our first day."
"Pff, what a drag. Dion's right, though, we don't have time for this, we need to go," —Patrick says, resigned to stop fighting with Phylicia.
"Fine, I'll follow you, only because I need a good record," —says Phylicia.
"Well then, Patrick, go ahead, we'll follow you."
"Don't fall behind or you'll get lost again," —Patrick says mockingly to Phylicia.
"I'm faster than you think, idiot." —Phylicia answers proudly.
"We'll see," —Patrick replies challengingly.
At least they're not fighting anymore, but they're running so fast that neither of them will last long at this pace. And when they finally reach the classroom, they'll be too out of breath to focus.
After watching their competition closely, I realized that Phylicia wasn't lying about her speed and stamina. She doesn't have enough to run a marathon, but for her age, it's already impressive. As for Patrick, the only thing keeping him going at that speed is his male pride, unwilling to lose to anyone, especially not a girl.
"Hey, and why are you late?"
"I got lost… not just today, yesterday too. When the banquet ended and we were split into houses, I lost the group for a moment because I had to use the bathroom and couldn't wait to reach the Ravenclaw area. I got sidetracked for a few minutes… minutes that turned into hours to find my way back." —Phylicia says.
"I see, so you were that person who went missing last night."
"Yes, that's me. One of the house prefects found me and helped me get to the Ravenclaw entrance. He was a nice and kind guy… his name was Percy."
Seeing her so calm makes it hard to believe she's the same girl with explosive anger issues.
"And well, I arrived very late last night, so I unpacked my things and fell asleep while doing it. Besides, no one called me to come to class." —Phylicia finishes, a bit indignant.
"That's probably because you don't have friends, with that personality of yours." —Patrick says sarcastically.
"What did you say?" —Phylicia speeds up to catch Patrick and punches him.
Patrick, rubbing the spot where he was just hit, keeps running without saying another word. Apparently, not only is Phylicia's temper strong, but her punches are too.
"And why are you two late?"
"Last night we stayed up too late. We were so stuffed from the banquet that we couldn't even move. Climbing up to the Ravenclaw tower was torture, especially when your stomach is about to explode from so much food."
Although that's partly true, when we were eating, different ghosts appeared at the feast, floating above our heads—some dancing, others telling stories about their deaths and their past lives, or at least what they believe they were. Since, as some say, ghosts are just souls bound to the earthly plane, remembering their past lives before death is complicated. Still, some of them do recall fragments.
Along with the countless portraits hanging in the castle, I spent the night exploring a few hidden corners with Iolita. In the end, it didn't amount to much—it's such a vast place full of secrets.
Some of the ghosts kindly helped me get back to the dormitories, but they also warned me it's better not to go out at night… unless I could find a way to never be discovered.
"Hmm, you're right, but every dish was worth it," —Phylicia says, excited at the thought of food.
After a few minutes of running through the castle's hallways, we finally reached the Potions classroom.
"Alright, who's going in first?" —Patrick asks.
"That's obvious, isn't it, Dion?" —Phylicia replies, then suddenly kicks Patrick in the back, sending him crashing into the classroom.
The bang of the door is so loud that everyone turns their eyes toward us—stares that make it clear we're doomed.
"Dion… I think I might have used a little too much force." —Phylicia whispers.
"You think? I'm pretty sure you broke a couple of his bones. He still hasn't gotten up."
"I'm fine, don't worry…" —Patrick says between groans, slowly getting up from the floor.
"I see you're having fun." —a voice sounds from behind us. An ominous aura engulfs us, as though its shadow could drown us in darkness.
"We're finished." —Phylicia mutters, scared, as she looks behind us.
"Since my class seems like a game to you, and a place where you think you can do as you please, arriving late and barging in violently as if it were funny, I have an idea: how about you show us some of your knowledge in Potions? If you think my class doesn't matter, it must be because your knowledge is good enough to rise above it," —Professor Severus says.
A heavy silence fills the room, and nobody dares to move a muscle to avoid being harshly judged by Professor Severus.
"Well then? Why don't we start with you, Mr. Dion?" —the professor points toward the front desk—. "I've heard from some upper-year students that you're good at magic. Why don't you give us a little demonstration, at least?"
"As you order, Professor Severus."
"Hmm, you're determined, quite confident too, I'd say. I need a potion: the Engorgement Potion. You'll find the ingredients in the classroom," —Severus says with a condescending tone, certain I won't succeed.
Thankfully, at my former academy, Potions was one of my favorite subjects, so this won't be as complicated as he thinks.
"Okay, to start the Engorgement Potion, we need: 3 puffer-fish eyes, 1 bat spleen, 2 spoonfuls of dried nettles."
I walk to the different shelves in the classroom, taking each ingredient. Everyone watches carefully as I pick each jar with confidence, as if I knew exactly where everything was. But really, it's easy to figure out—the ingredients, though seemingly messy, are organized by category: animal parts, powdered materials, and so on, making them simple to locate.
"Once all the materials are ready, we add 2 spoonfuls of dried nettles into the mortar. Add 3 puffer-fish eyes, crush them until you get a coarse powder. Add 2 portions of the crushed mixture into the cauldron, heat it to medium temperature for 20 seconds, then stir with your wand. Next, leave it on the fire for about 45 minutes."
Severus watches intently, without blinking, as I follow each step to perfection. Even Patrick can't close his mouth, astonished by how easily I prepare the potion.