Chương 42: Chapter 43 : Potions Class

They followed the steady stream of first-years down into the dungeons. The stone staircase seemed to stretch on forever. With every flight they descended, the air grew colder, the walls narrower, and the light noticeably dimmer. Before they even reached the classroom, the rumors about Professor Snape were already circulating through the crowd.

The older students had clearly done an excellent job of terrifying the newcomers, because everyone seemed eager to share what they had heard about the Slytherin Head of House.

"Someone sneezed in his class last year and he took five points for 'contaminating the atmosphere.'""I heard he made a Gryffindor write 'I am an idiot' five hundred times… then took ten points for bad handwriting."

"They say even the ghosts don't go near the dungeons because the territory's already haunted." Another boy chimed in.

"I heard Azkaban invited him to give a guest lecture once."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but he turned them down."

"…Why?"

"Said their standards for psychological torture were too low." A ripple of nervous laughter spread through the group. Someone else wasn't about to be outdone.

"You know boggarts, right? The things that turn into whatever you're most afraid of?" Several students nodded.

"I heard when a boggart gets scared…" He paused dramatically.

"…it turns into Snape." A few children actually looked horrified.

"That's nothing. My cousin swears the first thing Snape did after he was born was look at his parents and say, 'Adequate… though I expected better.'""Nah," another voice interrupted confidently.

"That came later. The first thing he did was deduct points from the maternity ward for excessive noise." Even Tyson couldn't help but burst into laughter at the last one. The rumors kept getting more ridiculous by the second, to the point where Tyson was beginning to feel a little sorry for the man.

He hadn't even taught a single lesson yet, and half the first-years already spoke about him as though he were some ancient horror lurking beneath the castle, waiting to pounce on children who mismeasured their ingredients. Looking at it that way, the world was truly unfair.

"…This Snape bloke doesn't sound like a good guy," Terry muttered, casting a nervous glance over his shoulder. Anthony raised an eyebrow, his voice a bit dry.

"Good guy? He's an absolute arse. My cousin graduated a few years ago, and from what he told me, my best advice for you would be not to give him a reason to dislike you—unless you want the next seven years thoroughly miserable." Terry swallowed hard and nodded. Beside him, Michael just yawned sleepily, looking completely indifferent to the conversation. From what Tyson had seen of him so far, Michael probably assumed everyone was blowing things out of proportion.

Which, to be fair, wasn't an unreasonable conclusion. After all, Hogwarts wasn't some back-alley school. Surely the headmaster and the Board of Governors wouldn't keep someone truly unfit for teaching on the staff, let alone make him Head of House. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. It was a perfectly logical way of looking at it. Of course… Rumors rarely appeared out of thin air.

People tended to exaggerate, embellish, and outright pull things out of their asses all the time, but there was usually a grain of truth buried somewhere underneath. So Michael was probably going to be seriously disappointed. Soon they reached the bottom corridor. The Potions classroom sat at the far end, its heavy wooden door already propped open. They walked in with the rest of the first-years. The room was almost exactly as Tyson had imagined—only somehow even more gothic in person.

It was quite large, but the low stone ceiling and dim torchlight made it feel strangely cramped. The air was so cold that it seeped straight through Tyson's robes, making his ass clench. A blackboard occupied the front wall. Beside it sat a wide stone basin under a gargoyle's open mouth, water trickling from it constantly. Heavy wooden worktables filled the whole room, arranged in neat rows. Each was already laid out with pewter cauldrons, brass scales, measuring spoons, and small silver knives.

Shelves lined every wall from floor to ceiling. They were packed with hundreds of glass jars filled with cloudy liquids and other monstrosities that made his stomach churn. Frogs, snakes, spiders, beetles. There were all kinds of specimens. Eyeballs floated in yellowish fluid. Something that looked suspiciously like a shrivelled human hand rested inside another. There were also other organs that he couldn't identify.

Tyson was sure that if a cultured Muggle serial killer saw this place, he would probably have the most intense orgasm of his life. Unfortunately, he wasn't a serial killer, and the only emotion he felt was utter disgust. He already hated Potions plenty due to its uncanny resemblance to the worst subject in the world. The display today had only given him another reason to piss on it. He'd never had much tolerance for slimy or revolting things.

Judging by the expressions around him, his fellow first-years seemed to share his opinion. Then again, it could just as easily have been the smell. The entire Potions classroom reeked of vinegar, damp stone, and an unpleasant medicinal scent that made one's nose sting. As Tyson's gaze swept across the room, he was surprised to find that a handful of students had already claimed seats. Mostly girls. More specifically… Ravenclaw girls?

'Now that's interesting.' Eventually, the four of them settled at one of the middle tables on the left. Tyson sat beside Anthony, while Terry and Michael took the neighboring table, close enough that they could still talk to each other without raising their voices. After asking around, they quickly found the reason why the girls had arrived ahead of them.

"Penelope told us while she was showing us around the dormitories last night," Padma Patil explained.

"She said Professor Snape likes finding excuses to deduct points, so it's best to always arrive early for Potions." She tapped the Potions textbook lying on her desk.

"She also advised us to revise the opening chapters of Magical Drafts and Potions. Apparently Professor Snape has a habit of questioning first-years before the lesson starts." Padma gave the four boys a sympathetic look.

"Robert was supposed to pass the message on to the boys. Since none of you knew… I'm guessing he forgot." The four boys exchanged looks, seeing each other's faces darken.

"It's more than just a little oversight," Anthony said gravely.

"If that senior hadn't reminded us this morning, we might've actually lost House points on the very first class of the year just for being late."

"I'm going to hex that absolute buffoon," Terry fumed, momentarily forgetting that he didn't actually know any hexes.

"If he'd done his job, we could've atleast revised the textbook this morning!" He slapped his copy of 'One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi' onto the table.

"Now, what are we supposed to do if Snape starts asking questions?" Even Michael had lost his usual sleepy indifference. The realization that he might be called upon, fail to answer, and embarrass himself in front of the entire class—especially the girls—had done wonders for his alertness. Anthony blinked.

"…You three didn't revise?" The other three slowly turned to look at him. Anthony scratched his cheek.

"Well… that's not really a problem for me. I already know the introductory material by heart. My father is a Potions Master. He tutored me for a few months before school started." Silence. Terry stared at him as though Anthony had just confessed to secretly working for Voldemort.

"…You traitor." Anthony looked genuinely bewildered.

"Huh? Why? What did I do?"

"You know exactly what you did."

"I genuinely don't." Michael nodded solemnly.

"…I also feel betrayed." Anthony turned toward Tyson in search of support. Tyson simply met his gaze with a perfectly blank expression. Anthony's shoulders sagged. Tyson wasn't about to bail him out this time. Frankly, he felt betrayed too. What the hell, man? He'd been under the impression the four of them had formed an unspoken alliance against Potions. Meanwhile, Anthony had apparently spent the entire summer voluntarily studying the subject.

'Absolutely disgraceful.' In the end, Anthony could only sigh and open his textbook. More and more students filtered into the classroom until nearly every seat was occupied. Then, with roughly fifteen minutes remaining before the lesson officially began, footsteps echoed through the corridor outside. The classroom fell silent.