The Great Hall at lunchtime was filled with the mouth-watering aroma of roast beef, rich gravy and fresh bread.
Students clustered in small groups, especially the first-years, swapping stories about the morning's lessons—the fun parts and the frustrations.
Julien carried his tray over to a table with Edgar and Casen. The moment he sat down, a commotion erupted at the next table.
Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville and Seamus were huddled together, faces a mixture of anger, hurt and disbelief. The spots on Neville's face were still clearly visible.
Harry stabbed his fork viciously into his mashed potatoes as if they were a mortal enemy. Ron waved his arms wildly, bits of food flying, while Hermione—usually the picture of calm logic—sat with her brows drawn tight and rare fire in her eyes.
"Hey, Julien!" Harry spotted him first and waved him over. "You have to hear what that bat Snape did!"
Julien excused himself from his roommates, picked up his tray and joined them.
The second he sat down, Ron grabbed his arm like he'd found a kindred spirit. "Julien, you won't believe it! Snape spent the whole class picking on Harry!"
"What happened?" Julien set his tray down, voice low with concern, while quickly scanning the hall to make sure the "old bat" wasn't around.
"It was Potions this morning!" Hermione took a deep breath, trying to sound calm, but her trembling fingers gave her away. "We were making a boil-cure potion. The recipe was simple, the steps were clear—I'd read them in Beginner's Potions at least three times. But…"
"Harry actually did really well," Neville added quietly, a touch of admiration in his voice. "Way better than me. I blew up my cauldron."
"I blow things up everywhere," Seamus said, patting Neville's shoulder.
Julien nodded. He remembered Seamus's special talent. A soft ding sounded in his mind—Murphy's voice: On the Reasonable Application of Explosive Magical Talent had just been added to the library.
"Yeah," Ron fumed, "the old bat was clearly targeting Harry. The moment he called roll he started with 'fame isn't everything' and all that rubbish."
Ron paused for a gulp of pumpkin juice. "Then he asked Harry these weird questions—like what happens when you mix powdered narcissus with wormwood infusion. How was Harry supposed to know that?"
Hermione shot him a look. "You'd know if you'd read ahead, but yes, it was way beyond first-year material. Still, he had no right to be so sarcastic."
"And during the actual brewing," she continued, "Harry followed every step perfectly. But Snape hovered around his cauldron like a vulture, sniffing and sneering like something smelled rotten."
Harry lifted his head. The lightning scar on his forehead seemed to throb with his anger. "Then he started asking questions about moonstone powder and porcupine quills reacting at different temperatures—stuff that isn't even in the book. Of course I couldn't answer."
"It was deliberate bullying!" Neville burst out, the quiet boy surprisingly fierce. "Every time Harry's hand shook even a little, Snape docked five points. Even my mistakes got blamed on Harry."
Julien's eyebrows rose. Snape's hostility toward Harry was far more open and vicious than he'd expected from the books. This wasn't mere prejudice—it felt like deep, personal hatred.
"The worst part," Hermione's voice rose sharply, drawing glances from nearby Gryffindors, "was how he kept calling Harry 'careless' and 'arrogant' the entire lesson."
Ron's face flushed crimson. "Tell me that's not unfair!"
Harry stared down at his ruined mash, voice low. "I think he's hated me from the moment he saw me. At the Sorting his eyes were glued to me and my scar hurt like mad."
Hermione's expression hardened. She had always believed excellence would earn respect, but Snape's behaviour proved prejudice could make facts and effort meaningless.
She turned to Julien, eyes pleading. "What do you think? You agree he's targeting Harry, right?"
Julien didn't answer immediately. He chose his words carefully. "Professor Snape… is certainly strict. But I don't think he's only after Harry."
"What do you mean?" Harry looked up, confused.
"He picks on all of us Gryffindors," Parvati Patil called from the next table. "Lavender and I just had slightly darker potion and he called us 'talentless wastes.' But when Malfoy's cauldron was bubbling weird green, Snape just nodded and said 'not bad, Malfoy.'"
Lavender Brown nodded vigorously. "Julien's right! He's completely biased! He only sees the Slytherins. With us Gryffindors—especially Harry—he's just looking for excuses."
Julien nodded. "Maybe those questions weren't really about testing Harry's knowledge. Maybe he just wanted to prove the 'Boy Who Lived' isn't so special. He wanted to tear down the saviour image in front of everyone."
Harry's face paled. He had never considered that angle. So Snape's goal was to humiliate him publicly.
Hermione's expression grew grave. She had always solved problems with knowledge, but pure personal malice left her at a loss. "So what do we do? Just accept it?" she asked, sounding lost for the first time.
"Accept it?" Ron gave a bitter laugh. "What else can we do? Stay out of his way. From now on I'm keeping my mouth shut in his class so he can't pick on me."
"That's not a solution, Ron," Hermione countered. "We can't give up learning Potions just because one professor is unfair. It's an important subject!"
"Then what's your brilliant idea?" Ron snapped.
Hermione fell silent. She was brilliant with facts, but this was personal.
Julien knew the real history between Snape and James Potter—and Snape's complicated feelings for Lily—but revealing that now would only hurt Harry more.
"This isn't something students can fix on our own," he said calmly, slicing into a piece of roast beef. "I think you should tell your Head of House—Professor McGonagall—or even Headmaster Dumbledore how you feel. Every Gryffindor here would back you up."
Hermione's eyes lit up. She had been thinking like a child—complaining instead of acting. I'm in big school now. Time for adult solutions.
"You're right. I'll write a formal letter demanding Professor Snape treat every student fairly. You'll all sign it, right?"
"I will!" Ron was first to volunteer.
"Me too!"
…
Watching Hermione take her first real step toward becoming Minister of Magic one day, Julien quietly returned to his own table, mission accomplished.