"Man, it's seriously creepy in here."
Terry rubbed his arms, looking around the dungeon classroom. "It feels like we just walked into a snake pit."
Stephen nodded in agreement. "Professor Snape teaches Potions, and he's the Head of Slytherin House. It makes sense."
"Ah, that explains it." Terry nodded, realization dawning on him.
"Snakes always love hiding in dark, damp places like this," Anthony muttered, sounding thoroughly disgusted.
Richie just shook his head. "I think the main reason is that brewing potions requires a constantly low temperature. Plus, we're surrounded by solid rock down here. If a cauldron explodes, it won't blow a hole through the floor."
Honestly, for the Ravenclaws who lived high up in the airy towers, coming down to such a literal "ground-level" environment was jarring. Along with the physical discomfort came a creeping sense of irritability and resistance.
The boys joked around as they walked in and found their seats.
Looking at the equipment set up on the workbenches, it was obvious they'd be working in pairs. Terry, Stephen, and Anthony immediately started bickering, all of them fiercely fighting to be Richie's partner. Ultimately, they settled it with that most ancient and brutal of rituals—Rock, Paper, Scissors. Anthony emerged victorious and happily claimed the stool next to Richie.
The rest of the first-years slowly trickled in. By the time the bell rang, all twenty kids were present.
The Hufflepuffs, who shared this class block with them, looked just as drained and uncomfortable. Sure, they technically lived underground too, but their common room and dorms were warm, cozy, and bright. Nothing like this cold, unforgiving dungeon.
Honestly, aside from the Slytherins themselves, nobody in their right mind would like this classroom.
Everyone waited in dead silence for the bell.
Dong.
Right on time.
Bang.
"There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class."
A wizard resembling an oversized bat swept into the room. His black robes billowed behind him like wings, looking as though they might smack a student in the face at any moment. He marched straight to the podium and spun around sharply.
Oh...
A few of the Ravenclaws instinctively shot a glance at Richie.
If Richie's hair was bright (buttery-blonde), fluffy, and soft, then Professor Snape's hair was the exact opposite: dark, flat, and so greasy it looked like it hadn't been washed in eight hundred years.
With a flick of Snape's hand, the classroom door slammed shut behind him.
"I will not tolerate anyone showing off their supposed cleverness, nor will I indulge foolish ignorance."
"If your troll-sized brains cause you to waste my ingredients... I will ensure you experience a profound and well-deserved fear of Potions."
He swept his dark gaze across the room, catching the glances a few of the Ravenclaws had just thrown. Following their line of sight, he locked onto Richie and his bright, fluffy hair.
"As for a select few of you... those who actually possess the predisposition..." Snape's voice dropped to a soft, dangerous drawl. "I can teach you how to appreciate the joy of acquiring true knowledge, and how to brew the very crystallization of wisdom."
"Mr. Harland," Snape suddenly snapped.
Richie met his gaze calmly. Snape fired off his first question like a whip: "For the Awakening Potion, should sneezewort be diced or added whole?"
Richie mentally raised an eyebrow. This professor is ruthless. Both of those options were completely wrong.
He answered calmly and steadily: "To preserve the juices, it should be sliced against the grain of the veins."
Snape gave an almost imperceptible nod and kept going. "Why must moonstone powder be added only after taking the cauldron off the fire?"
"Because high temperatures will destroy its stabilizing properties."
"What does it mean if blue smoke rises during the brewing process, and how do you fix it?"
"It means you're stirring too fast. You need to lower the heat and stir counter-clockwise to correct it."
Three questions, three perfect answers. Richie's performance was flawless.
"Acceptable. Much better than certain empty vessels who rely on fame but know absolutely nothing."
Seeing a few of the Ravenclaws grinning with pride, Snape's expression instantly darkened.
"Mr. Boot."
Terry's smile vanished.
"Regarding the Cure for Boils..."
Fortunately, taking Richie's advice to heart the night before, the Ravenclaws had actually reviewed the first chapter on the Cure for Boils. So, while Terry stumbled and stuttered a bit, he still managed to get the right answers out.
The Hufflepuffs weren't so lucky. Two of them in a row completely failed to answer his questions, costing Hufflepuff four house points right off the bat.
Potions was structured with a mix of theory and practical work. For the last half hour of class, the students paired up to brew the Awakening Potion.
Like the Cure for Boils, it was a beginner-level potion. The prep work was complex, but there were no volatile magical reactions to worry about. Thanks to Snape's meticulous breakdown during the first half of class, the difficulty had essentially been lowered to zero.
With Richie's incredibly steady hands and focus, their cauldron soon held a perfect, high-quality, pale blue Awakening Potion.
Anthony, however, had only pre-read the section on the Cure for Boils. Even though he had paid close attention during the lecture, he was too intimidated to actually touch anything. So, that first potion was entirely Richie's solo work.
Realizing they still had one extra set of ingredients, Richie made Anthony switch spots. Refusing to help directly, Richie made Anthony handle everything—from prepping the ingredients to stirring the cauldron. Richie just stood by, only calling out hints when Anthony was about to make a critical mistake.
Knowing Richie was doing this to help him learn, Anthony gritted his teeth and pushed through. Relying on the lecture and what he'd just seen Richie do, Anthony managed to finish his own Awakening Potion with exactly one minute to spare.
It was definitely low-quality—a murky, dark blue swirled with sickly green—but hey, it was technically a success.
Because this was everyone's first time brewing, practically every other group failed completely. One pair of Hufflepuffs even managed to cause a minor explosion thanks to a botched step, earning themselves detention with Snape to scrub out cauldrons.
Snape stopped at Richie's workbench, raising an eyebrow in genuine surprise at the two completed potions.
"Well."
He picked up Richie's pale blue potion, holding it up to inspect it closely. After a moment, he looked back at Richie.
"Solid fundamentals. Although, in the grand scheme of potion-making, this is barely worth mentioning."
"Still, for an absolute beginner, it is... adequate. One point to Ravenclaw."
"As for this puddle of sludge that barely qualifies as a potion..." Snape sneered, shooting a disgusted look at Anthony's cauldron. "Drinking it probably won't kill you. Probably."
With that, Snape slipped Richie's vial into his robes and swept away.
Richie glanced over at Anthony and saw the crushing disappointment written all over his face.
"Hey, at least it was a success," Richie offered kindly. "Look at Terry and Stephen."
Anthony turned around. Terry and Stephen's cauldron was full of something that looked like muddy, toxic sludge, occasionally bubbling and popping with a wet shlurp.
Terry and Stephen slowly looked up, meeting Anthony's gaze with dead, hollow eyes.
Pfft.
Comparison really is the thief of joy—unless you're comparing yourself to someone doing worse. Anthony's face immediately broke into a huge grin.
"This is my very first successful potion! I'm totally taking this back to the dorm to keep as a souvenir!"
Richie's mouth twitched. Seeing the kid looking so genuinely thrilled, he didn't have the heart to ruin the moment.
Potions have shelf lives, and the lower the quality, the faster they expire. Looking at the state of Anthony's concoction, it was probably going to "go bad" very soon. It definitely wasn't going to be a long-term souvenir.