Chapter 21: Chapter 21
[Chapter Size: 1800 Words.]
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"Severus Snape, why does this guy act as if everyone owes him twenty thousand Galleons?" thought Harry.
Watching Snape quickly walk away with Quirrell in his arms, casting him yet another strange look before leaving, Harry felt a bit annoyed.
His scar was hurting again. For some reason, it seemed to ache every time Snape appeared. But this time, the pain lasted only for a brief moment and vanished in the blink of an eye.
Even so, the sensation left Harry feeling deeply uncomfortable.
Later, Professor Quirrell's Defense Against the Dark Arts class turned out to be a disappointment for all the young witches and wizards, Harry and Ron included.
Defense Against the Dark Arts was supposed to teach students how to defend themselves against aggressive magical creatures and dark magic. Normally, it should have been a subject full of useful spells.
However, Professor Quirrell, who had been considered a competent Muggle Studies teacher, had turned Defense Against the Dark Arts into a complete joke.
Not to mention, the classroom reeked of garlic. By now, the twins had already spread the rumor that Quirrell had angered a vampire, and nearly everyone in the school knew about it. The school year had barely begun, and it was impressive how quickly they had managed to share this information.
Quirrell often boasted about his past adventures in class, but whenever students asked for details, he would stammer, give vague responses, and change the subject, much to everyone's disappointment.
Even Hermione, who always respected her teachers and even admired them a little, frowned after the lesson, looking rather dissatisfied.
However, Harry and Ron secretly suspected that Hermione's frustration might also stem from her inability to earn points for Gryffindor.
Before this class, Hermione had earned at least one point for Gryffindor in every lesson that week. Seamus Finnigan had even started calling her the "Scoring Champion."
But in Quirrell's class, there hadn't been a single chance for her to earn points, simply because the lesson was that bad.
Putting aside the dreadful Defense Against the Dark Arts class and the late-night Astronomy lessons that required climbing the tower, Harry still found life at Hogwarts quite fascinating.
However, that perspective shifted slightly on Friday.
On Friday morning, Harry was in an excellent mood.
After enjoying a delicious breakfast, he waited as Ron stuffed the last onion ring into his mouth. Just then, Hedwig unexpectedly arrived with a letter.
So far, Harry had received three letters. Two were from Flourish and Blotts, confirming the delivery of books he had ordered, one of them about Quidditch.
Ron, Seamus, and the other boys talked about Quidditch non-stop, and even Neville, who was usually quiet, joined in on the discussions.
But Harry knew nothing about the sport. Ron and the others' explanations were vague, full of personal opinions, and often so enthusiastic that, if Harry lost focus for even a moment, the conversation would turn into wild and exaggerated storytelling.
Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Neville each supported different teams and frequently argued about match results. While these debates never affected their friendship, they left Harry feeling utterly lost.
Given the situation, he figured reading a book would help him understand the game better and fit in more easily with his friends.
The third letter had been from Dudley. It was short, just a brief update on his new life at university, along with a vague mention of his worries about upcoming exams.
Harry had replied with a letter containing a magic circle from the Aegean magical tradition. This spell had an effect similar to the shorthand magic he had previously used on Dudley.
The first person to open the letter would benefit from the magical effect, but only the first person. If Dudley was unlucky enough to open it last, there was nothing Harry could do.
It had taken him nearly half a month to prepare the spell. Creating a magical circle and infusing it with power was far more challenging than simply casting a spell.
At the same time, Harry couldn't help but wonder how Dudley had even managed to send a letter to Hogwarts in the first place…
Today's letter, however, was special, it was from Hagrid. He had invited Harry to visit his hut near the Forbidden Forest that afternoon.
Ron, who was sitting beside Harry, saw the letter and immediately asked excitedly, "Can I come too? Harry, can I?" Clearly, Ron was just as curious about Hagrid, whose massive size set him apart from ordinary people.
Harry pulled a ballpoint pen from his robe pocket. He still wasn't used to using a quill, and he wouldn't bother with one unless absolutely necessary for homework.
He simply scribbled his response, agreeing to the visit, then gave Hedwig a treat and sent her off.
At this point, Harry was still in a great mood. However, that changed drastically during Potions class.
Harry had already heard from older students that the head of Slytherin House, Professor Snape, was particularly hostile toward students outside his own house.
However, he hadn't yet grasped just how extreme that hostility could be.
The Potions classroom was located in the dungeon, making it feel dark and eerie. In one corner of the room, glass and crystal jars of various sizes lined the shelves. Harry didn't recognize any of their contents, nor did he particularly want to, many of them looked downright disgusting.
These strange objects only made the already gloomy classroom seem even more unsettling.
Harry shared Potions class with the Slytherins, which meant he saw Draco Malfoy again, the same Malfoy whose nose had been bleeding after Harry ran into him on the train.
Harry wasn't the type to hold grudges. In fact, he rarely let conflicts drag on, he preferred immediate payback. So while he was still a little annoyed with Malfoy, he wasn't thinking much about their previous encounter.
Malfoy, on the other hand, seemed unable to let it go. Though he tried to appear calm, his darting eyes betrayed a flicker of unease.
As for the two bulky boys flanking Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, they looked utterly clueless. Compared to them, Harry thought even his cousin Dudley seemed intelligent.
"I wonder if my cousin got my letter."
Hedwig hadn't brought a reply yet, so Harry had no idea how he was doing.
As Harry pondered this, Professor Snape began speaking from the front of the classroom.
Like Professor Flitwick in Charms, Snape took his time during roll call, especially when he reached Harry's name.
However, while Flitwick always smiled kindly when calling on Harry, Snape was different.
"Ah, we have a new celebrity in class today…"
Snape's cold, unreadable black eyes fixed on Harry as he spoke, his tone laced with sarcasm.
Malfoy and his two lackeys chuckled quietly.
Harry rolled his eyes, not bothering to acknowledge the three idiots.
Snape finished roll call and, after glancing around the room, began his introduction to the course, his voice hollow and chilling.
Harry couldn't help but yawn. Unfortunately, that small action did not go unnoticed by Snape.
Clearly, Harry's lazy posture and indifferent expression irritated the professor.
"Potter!" Snape suddenly snapped. "Stand up."
Harry frowned slightly but complied. "Yes, Professor?"
"What is the difference between Aconitum napellus and Aconitum lycoctonum?"
Snape's voice was so cold that it might as well have sent shards of ice through the air.
Almost before Snape had finished speaking, Hermione, who sat in the front row, shot her hand into the air.
This had happened in nearly every class so far. Hermione eagerly answered questions in every subject, and most of the house points she earned for Gryffindor came from these moments.
Harry and Ron were beginning to suspect she had memorized every first-year textbook. She answered questions with such confidence, without hesitation or uncertainty, that it seemed almost effortless.
However, this time, Hermione didn't even get the chance.
Snape completely ignored her small, pale hand waving in the air.
Harry raised an eyebrow, met Snape's cold gaze, and replied calmly, "There's no difference, Professor. They're both Aconitum. They just have different names, they're the same plant."
Snape's brow twitched ever so slightly, as if surprised that Harry actually knew the answer. But he quickly moved on.
"Then tell me, if I needed coprolites, where would I find them?"
"Any potions shop in Diagon Alley should have them." Harry smirked. He could tell Snape was deliberately trying to trip him up.
But Harry was prepared.
He had learned early on that Snape enjoyed tormenting students from other houses, especially Gryffindors. So, he had taken the time to prepare in advance, even visiting the library during his free time to study a bit more than usual.
As expected, Snape had singled him out.
But that was fine.
If Snape wanted to play, Harry was happy to play along.
With a smug sense of satisfaction, he added, "Of course, if you're asking where coprolites actually come from, you'll find them in the stomachs of goats."
Snape's frown deepened, and Hermione, still holding her hand in the air, lowered it slowly and turned to stare at Harry in surprise.
Clearly, she hadn't expected him to answer so easily.
Since arriving at Hogwarts, Harry had spent most of his time joking around with his roommates rather than studying with Hermione.
Maybe, just maybe, it was because Hermione wasn't pretty enough?
After all, Harry did spend a lot of time in the library with the Patil twins, the Indian sisters, though, to be fair, that was mostly just coincidence.
Snape studied Harry's face, and for the briefest moment, Harry thought he saw something change in the professor's expression.
For the first time, Snape's eyes softened, carrying an emotion that felt different.
That look made Harry feel extremely uncomfortable. He instinctively furrowed his brows.
"Professor?" he asked cautiously.
It was as if Harry's voice had shattered whatever thoughts were running through Snape's mind.
In an instant, the emotion in Snape's eyes vanished, and his face returned to its usual stoic, unreadable expression.
"Then tell me," Snape continued, his tone now deeper, "what would I get if I added powdered Narcissus root to an infusion of wormwood?"
Harry frowned slightly.
That wasn't in the first-year textbook.
Even Hermione hesitated before raising her hand again.
But.
"Draught of Living Death, Professor." Harry answered smoothly. "Also known as the Water of Life and Death, it's an extremely powerful sleeping potion. Of course, that's assuming there are no mistakes in its brewing process, it's quite a complicated potion to make."
Snape: "…"
Ron: "…"
Hermione: "…"
Malfoy: "…"
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