The Gamer: Multiverse Travel

After finishing their breakfast, the group spent the rest of the day exploring the castle. They wandered through the corridors, found the library, but didn't stay long. The shelves were overwhelming, stacked high with countless books. They briefly poked around before moving on, eager to discover more.

When lunch arrived, they returned to the Great Hall for a quick meal before heading back out. They spent a little more time exploring, and by the time they got back to the common room, everyone except Daniel was utterly exhausted. It had been a long, busy day of walking and discovering, and the others were ready for bed.

Daniel, however, wasn't quite ready to sleep. He slipped away quietly, entering the ID where he could train for a while. He needed to tire himself out before sleep would come easily. 'It'll help me sleep better,' he thought as he began his exercises in the solitude of the dimly lit space.

The next morning, they were all up early for their first day of classes. It was Tuesday, and after a hearty breakfast, their first lesson was Defense Against the Dark Arts with the Slytherins.

As soon as Daniel stepped into the classroom, the smell hit him. 'Oh brother, this room stinks!' he thought, his nose wrinkling in protest. He immediately regretted stepping inside. The air was thick with an overpowering odor, garlic. Everywhere. His stomach turned at the sharp, pungent smell, but he forced himself to endure it.

"What is this smell?" Michael asked, his face contorting as he tried to get used to the air.

"It's garlic," Daniel muttered, trying to keep his voice steady, though his own nose was twitching.

"I know, but why does the whole room smell like this?" Michael replied, still sniffing the air in confusion.

"How would I know?" Daniel responded flatly, his eyes scanning the room for some explanation. It seemed they weren't the only ones bothered by it. A few other students were also visibly uncomfortable.

Before Michael could respond, the door opened, and in walked Professor Quirrell. He was a thin, nervous-looking man, with a pale face and a large, purple turban. His robes were slightly disheveled, and his hands trembled as he held a stack of papers. He shuffled to the front of the class and stammered out an introduction.

"H-Hello, y-you all. I-I'm your professor of DADA th-this year," he stuttered, each word shaking from his lips.

Daniel exchanged a glance with Michael, who raised an eyebrow. The man didn't seem like he could handle anything darker than a mild headache, let alone dangerous dark creatures. But they tried to remain polite and listened as Professor Quirrell rambled on about various dark creatures. Most of the lesson was spent talking about vampires, which, despite being a potentially exciting topic, fell flat due to Quirrell's nervous demeanor.

"I once encountered a vampire in Romania," Quirrell continued, telling a story about how he had narrowly escaped being hunted by one, "H-H-He w-w-wanted to—"

Michael raised a hand. "Why does the classroom smell like garlic?" he asked again, clearly wanting an answer.

"Well," Quirrell's eyes darted around, clearly uncomfortable. "G-Garlic is… uhm, useful. It… repels vampires…" He shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

When the class finally ended, the students filed out, most of them wearing frowns.

"That was a lesson?" Terry muttered sarcastically, shaking his head.

"Yeah, I think I could've taught it better," Anthony joked, his voice dry as they made their way to the dungeons for their next class, Potions.

The cold hit them as they entered the dungeons, sharper than anywhere else in the castle. Michael shivered and wrapped his arms around himself. "I hope I don't get sick." He muttered under his breath as they walked into the Potions classroom.

The room was dim, lit by flickering candlelight that cast eerie shadows on the walls. The shelves were lined with strange powders and glass jars containing all sorts of bizarre substances, some of them glittering, some of them bubbling ominously.

As Daniel made his way toward the back of the classroom, Michael turned to him and said, "I'll sit at the front. I like Potions." Daniel nodded and asked, "Anyone want to join me at the back?"

Anthony raised his hand. "Sure, why not," he said, following Daniel.

Before they could settle, the door swung open with a dramatic flair, and Professor Severus Snape entered. His black robes billowed as if they had a life of their own. He didn't bother with pleasantries or introductions. His cold, calculating eyes swept over the room, sending a shiver down Daniel's spine.

"There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class," Snape's voice echoed in the cold room. " As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making."

Snape's eyes locked onto Daniel briefly, then quickly darted away. 'Did he notice me using Observe after all?' Daniel thought, but there was no time to dwell on it. Snape had already written the Cure for Boils recipe on the board.

"Get to work." Snape's voice was sharp and final.

'It doesn't look that hard,' Daniel thought as he glanced at the instructions. Turning to Anthony, he muttered, "Crush the snake fangs and add them to the cauldron."

Anthony did as instructed while Daniel prepared the rest of the ingredients. Once Anthony finished, Daniel added the dried nettles and stirred with a careful hand, following the recipe. They worked quietly, concentrating on the task at hand.

The potion was soon ready. They bottled it with a sense of accomplishment.

But when they approached Snape's desk, he glanced at their potion, his lip curling in disdain.

"You call this a potion? A troll could brew better," he sneered. "Minus one point from Ravenclaw."

'What a prick,' Daniel thought, watching Snape turn away.

[Lesser Cure for Boils]

[The Lesser Cure for Boils weakly heals boils but may cause itching, redness, or tingling. Multiple applications are often needed.]

'Well, maybe it's not the best potion in the world,' Daniel thought, though he didn't let it bother him too much. 'It's a first try, after all.'

The class ended with an awkward silence as Snape left without another word. The students followed, clearly feeling the sting of his harsh remarks.

"He wasn't that bad," Michael said, attempting to lighten the mood.

"Yeah, your potion was the only one he said was acceptable, so don't talk about it," Anthony teased.

They made their way to the Great Hall for lunch, ready for the rest of the day's lessons.