The next day, Kyle joined the new Gryffindor students on their way to the second floor of the castle for History of Magic. To say the class was dull would be an understatement, and Kyle spent most of the time dozing off. He couldn't believe a lesson could be this boring.
Professor Cuthbert Binns, the ghost who taught the class, didn't seem to care much about keeping the students engaged. There were no quizzes or discussions. After gliding through the wall, his milky-white form began reading monotonously from a textbook in a single, droning tone.
Ten minutes in, Kyle had had enough. It felt like a swarm of bees was buzzing relentlessly in his ears, making it impossible to focus on what Professor Binns was saying. He glanced around to see how everyone else was holding up.
The Gryffindors had completely surrendered. They were slumped over their desks, drooling, grinding their teeth, and even muttering in their sleep. The Hufflepuffs, on the other hand, were doing slightly better. Some, driven by a sense of duty (likely instilled by Mikel), tried valiantly to stay awake and take notes on every name and date mentioned. But soon, even they succumbed to the sheer boredom of the class. One by one, they rolled up their parchments and joined the rest in slumber.
...
If there was a class more dreaded by the students than History of Magic, it was Potions.
In the afternoon, Kyle and his classmates faced the torturous Potions lesson, notorious for being ruled by the severe and biased Professor Snape. While History of Magic might have been excruciatingly boring, at least the students could nap without consequence. Potions, however, was an entirely different beast.
Snape's blatant favoritism toward Slytherin made the class unbearable for everyone else. Gryffindor, in particular, bore the brunt of his unfairness. While other Houses were merely overlooked when it came to earning points, Gryffindor students had points deducted for the smallest infractions—whether it was taking notes too slowly, failing to read during class, or even reading the wrong book. It was no wonder that Gryffindor always had the lowest House points by the end of each year, a fact that had fueled Fred and George's desire to send Snape to the hospital wing.
That afternoon, Hufflepuff had their first Potions class, paired with Slytherin. After repeated warnings from the prefects, the young Hufflepuffs made sure to leave their common room early and arrived at the underground Potions classroom a full ten minutes ahead of time. Well, all of them except for Kyle.
Kyle had been summoned to the hospital wing by none other than Dumbledore.
"Kyle, you're finally here!" Mikel exclaimed as soon as he saw him, looking as if Kyle was his long-awaited savior. "You've come to pick me up, right? Please tell me you're here to get me out of this place!"
Mikel was clearly desperate. "You have no idea what I've been through," he continued, his eyes wide with indignation. "This place is a nightmare! That nurse practically strapped me to the bed, wouldn't let me move, and refused to give me any snacks. Then this greasy-haired man came in and forced me to drink some weird potion! I didn't want to, but he used his wand to make me swallow it! Ugh, it tasted worse than... well, worse than shit!"
Er…
Kyle looked from Madam Pomfrey, whose chest was heaving in anger, to Snape, who was standing in the doorway on the verge of losing his temper. He realized, with no small amount of regret, that he had severely underestimated Mikel. In front of Madam Pomfrey, Mikel had insulted the hospital, claiming it was "no place for humans," and had just referred to Snape as an "oily freak." Kyle couldn't help but wonder if the Sorting Hat had been drunk when it sorted Mikel—someone this bold seemed more suited for Gryffindor.
Without a second thought, Kyle let his instincts take over: he shut up, bowed his head, and quietly shuffled over to Dumbledore, trying to make himself as small and invisible as possible.
Who is Kyle? Just a quiet, obedient student passing by.
The atmosphere in the hospital wing immediately turned frigid.
Mikel, however, remained blissfully unaware of the tension and continued rambling about his unpleasant experiences. It wasn't until he turned to grab some water that he finally noticed Madam Pomfrey standing there with a strained, forced smile.
"Yaaahhh!" Mikel screeched, diving under the covers and pretending to be dead.
"Ahem... this weather, terribly cold for September," Dumbledore said, rubbing his arms, breaking the icy tension. He turned to Kyle with a calm smile and said, "As you can see, Mr. Derrick has taken the Magic Suppressing Potion and will soon be ready to leave the hospital. Afterward, I'll ask Professor Sprout to help him learn to better control his magic. But Kyle, the professor's time is limited. The help of his friends will be even more important."
"I understand, Professor Dumbledore," Kyle responded seriously. "I promise what happened in Charms class won't happen again."
Kyle didn't need to be told twice. Mikel was his roommate, practically like a brother to him. There was no way he'd stand by and let Mikel risk becoming a Squib from magical exhaustion. Hogwarts didn't need a second caretaker.
"Don't look so grim, Kyle," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye. "Our Potions professor may seem severe, but he's more than capable. As long as Mr. Derrick takes his Magic Suppressing Potion regularly, magical exhaustion won't be an issue. Though," Dumbledore added with a smile, "you might want to stock up on candy for him. I recommend Cockroach Clusters."
Kyle remained silent, his attention drawn to Snape, whose scowl had deepened at Dumbledore's last remark.
"Alright, take Mr. Derrick back," Dumbledore continued. "You should get to class as well—don't be late."
"Wait a moment, Headmaster," Madam Pomfrey interrupted. "This young wizard's treatment isn't finished yet. It'll only take a little while longer."
Dumbledore hesitated. "But…"
"I said, it's not over yet!" Madam Pomfrey said, smiling but firm. "It's just a quick check-up. Don't worry, they won't be late for class."
Dumbledore nodded quickly, saying, "I'll leave it in your capable hands, Poppy," before striding out of the hospital wing.
Snape followed, muttering a snort as he passed.
Kyle wished he could leave too, but since he had to take Mikel back, he retreated to the corridor to wait. As he stood outside, he suddenly heard a loud, desperate wail from inside the hospital.
"I don't want to drink this… Ugh… It's even worse than that blue potion… Ugh… Help... Ugh…"
Kyle winced at Mikel's cries of protest. His heart ached for his friend, but there was nothing he could do. If even Dumbledore had fled the scene, what could a mere first-year like him do? Resigned, Kyle quietly closed the door of the infirmary.
The corridor instantly fell silent.
Well… at least it's peaceful now.
/////
When the door to the hospital wing finally opened again, it marked Mikel's official discharge. He had at last fulfilled his wish to escape, but his current state left much to be desired. His footsteps were unsteady, and he was constantly retching, looking far from well.
Kyle, standing nearby, had never thought it possible for a person's face to turn blue, but here was Mikel, proving him wrong. Even the boldest portraits in Hogwarts hadn't dared to paint their subjects in such a shade. Mikel's entire head was blue—his forehead, nose, lips, and even his hair and teeth shared the same alarming color. From a distance, he resembled a large, blue dandelion.
"Kyle…" Mikel croaked, extending a shaky hand. "What are you smiling about? Help me up."
"Nothing, just thinking about something happy," Kyle replied, stepping forward to assist Mikel while making a conscious effort to avoid looking at his face. "I added twenty points to Hufflepuff yesterday."
"That is something to be happy about," Mikel nodded, deciding not to ask any further questions. He wasn't in the mood for conversation. Whatever Madam Pomfrey had poured down his throat had left a burning sensation, and his voice felt raw.
They began the slow walk toward the underground Potions classroom. As they crossed the courtyard by the pendulum clock, Mikel's blue complexion gradually faded, returning to a more normal hue. Although his appearance wasn't fully restored, the dim lighting of the castle masked most of it. Kyle realized that Madam Pomfrey hadn't intended for Mikel to embarrass himself too badly in public.
Despite their steady pace, Mikel's sluggish walking meant that by the time they reached the classroom, they were late. Snape had just finished calling roll when his eyes landed on them standing at the doorway.
"Late to your first lesson? Are the new students this year all so incompetent?" Snape's voice dripped with disdain. "Ten points from Hufflepuff."
Mikel's eyes widened in recognition as he stared at Snape. Without thinking, he blurted out, "Huh? You're the one who—"
But before Mikel could finish, Kyle reacted quickly, delivering a swift nudge to his back, cutting him off mid-sentence. A catastrophe was narrowly avoided.
Kyle seized the moment. "Sorry, Professor Snape, it won't happen again."
Snape's cold gaze lingered on them. "Hmph, if there is a second time, it won't be as simple as deducting ten points. Now, why are you still standing there? Get to your seats. Five more points from Hufflepuff!"
Not wanting to risk Mikel saying anything else that might get them into even more trouble, Kyle hurriedly pulled him to an empty table at the back of the room.
Snape returned his focus to the class, his voice softening into a more ominous tone. "Potions is a profound and important subject. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. Nor do I expect you to understand the miraculous transformations that occur when common ingredients are slowly elevated into something greater."
He continued, his voice almost gentle now. "I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death—if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
Snape's words cast a heavy silence over the room. The Slytherins, heads held high, sat straighter, eager to prove they were not among the fools Snape referenced. In stark contrast, the Hufflepuffs exchanged uneasy glances, afraid to meet their professor's eyes.
Mikel, in particular, looked like he wished he could disappear beneath the table. His face, although no longer blue, had paled considerably. But there was no avoiding it—what was coming was coming, and they could only brace themselves for Snape's inevitable scrutiny.
"Mr. Derrick!" Snape's sharp voice suddenly rang out. "For the preparation of a Boil-Cure Potion, do you add the Stewed horned slugs or the porcupine quills first?"
Mikel stared up at Snape, his face blank. Boil-Cure Potion? He carefully ventured, "The porcupine quills, professor?"
"Tsk," Snape scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain. "If you had even glanced at your textbook before the start of term, you would know that the first ingredient for a Boil-Cure Potion is powdered snake fangs, not porcupine quills. How dare you come late with such an appalling lack of preparation? Hufflepuff loses another point."
A chorus of scribbling immediately filled the room as students scrambled to take notes.
"Open your books to page one!" Snape commanded, returning to the podium. "Today, we will be learning how to brew a basic Boil-Cure Potion. Although it is simple enough that anyone with the intelligence of a Troll should manage it, I remind you to be cautious—unless you wish to cover yourself in painful boils."
He continued, "The ingredients for this potion are in the storage cupboard. Work in pairs... Oh, wait!"
Snape paused, his eyes narrowing as he approached Mikel again. "Given your current state, Mr. Derrick, and for the safety of everyone else, I believe it's best if you sit this one out." Snape removed the cauldron from Mikel's desk, sneering slightly. "No need for you to wave your wand around incompetently today."
Then, turning to Kyle, Snape ordered, "You—team up with Miss Prince. And don't bother Derrick while he's reading."
In the crowd, Kanna looked up in disbelief. Her face went blank as she watched Kyle make his way over to her. She had been so busy trying to avoid Kyle earlier that she ended up sitting alone, while everyone else had already formed pairs. Now, there was nowhere left to hide.
Maybe I could switch places with someone else? Kanna thought, eyeing her roommate behind her. Just as she was about to suggest switching, Snape's voice cut through the air once more from the lectern.
"What are you waiting for? Shall I brew the potion for you?" Snape snapped angrily, causing the entire class to bustle into action.
With no choice left, Kanna sighed and resigned herself to her situation. She watched her roommate rush to the cupboard to gather ingredients while she stayed at the table, already grinding the snake fangs that had been left in front of her.
Earlier, when Snape had passed by her desk, he had casually placed a small bag of ingredients on it. Curiously, there were three times more than she needed, meaning Kanna didn't have to go to the cupboard like the others.
/////
Kyle had never expected Kanna to be so skilled at potion-making. Every step, from boiling the nettle solution to grinding the snake's teeth, was executed with precision. He found himself unable to contribute much and sat idly by, watching the cauldron with growing boredom.
Unlike the other young wizards who were flustered and rushing around, Kyle appeared to be on a break. There really wasn't much for him to help with, as potions, like many other classes, involved more waiting than practical work. Most of the time, they simply waited for the potions to brew, much like preparing a soup—ten minutes of preparation followed by two hours of simmering.
That was assuming everything went smoothly, of course. For some students, creating a basic nettle infusion could turn into a drawn-out struggle. Take the two Slytherin first-years on their left, for example. They had already gone to fetch nettles from the storage cupboard seven times, which earned them several disapproving glares from Professor Snape.
Kyle watched as one of them stood up to go to the cupboard again.
Great... eight times.
"Flada, Walker, use your brains for once," Snape finally snapped, his cold gaze fixed on them. "If you don't produce a proper yellow-green solution this time, I'll put your heads in the cauldron!"
The two Slytherin students were dumbstruck, especially the unlucky one heading back to get more nettles. He looked like he was walking to his doom. After glaring at them, Snape dramatically swept his robes aside and moved on to another pair of unfortunate students.
"What is this, licorice syrup? Pour it out and start over!" he barked. "It's not yellow enough—pour it out and start again!"
"Pour it out!"
Snape prowled around the classroom like a menacing bat, leaving a trail of misery in his wake. Wherever he went, there were cries of anguish.
The repeated instructions to "pour it away and start over" had everyone on edge, making them more cautious with their potions. Yet, Kyle remained unfazed. He kept his focus on the cauldron, waiting for the solution to shift from yellow-green to pale yellow before reducing the flame to its lowest setting.
At the same time, Kanna successfully added the ground snake tooth powder to the mixture. A sweet but unpleasant odor soon wafted from the cauldron.
"Perfect," Kyle said with a nod, turning the heat back up. Now came the long wait once more.
Kyle glanced over at Kanna, curiosity getting the better of him. "Did you brew potions before coming to school?"
"No," Kanna replied, taken aback. She shook her head. "Why do you ask?"
"You seem really talented in Potions," Kyle remarked. "Usually, when first-year students start brewing, it's a disaster. Sometimes, the cauldrons even explode."
"That's impossible," Kanna said skeptically.
Kyle didn't press the matter, merely gesturing for her to look around.
Kanna, puzzled, glanced up and finally noticed the chaotic state of the Potions classroom. Young witches and wizards were darting between cauldrons and storage cabinets, their once-tidy robes now torn and disheveled. Some even had smoke rising from their hair.
If someone were to walk in at that moment, they might think a Exploding Charm had gone off.
Thick, multicolored smoke drifted above many of the cauldrons, slowly merging into a strange gray-brown cloud near the ceiling. The air was filled with a peculiar odor—part rotten eggs, part burning wool.
Kanna only needed a second or two of breathing it in before her stomach began to churn. She muttered to herself, "How is this possible? Potions are so simple…"
Her gaze shifted toward the Slytherin side of the room. They were all purebloods, and with Snape as their head of house, surely they'd be fine...
Just as she thought that, she witnessed something unforgettable.
The cauldron at the table next to hers exploded.
No, not the cauldron itself—the potion inside it did.
Without warning, the liquid began to foam violently and expand at an alarming rate, filling the cauldron within moments.
But that wasn't the worst part.
In the next second, foam erupted from the cauldron, shooting straight up and hitting the ceiling with force.
The scene was nothing short of spectacular.
"Flada! Walker! You two idiots!" Snape's furious voice rang out, though he didn't immediately punish the two culprits. His professor's instincts kicked in, and he swiftly drew his wand to contain the bubbling disaster.
"Tergeo! Scourgify!"
...
Under Snape's charm, the cauldron and foam were quickly cleaned up. After confirming that no students had been harmed, Snape stormed over to the two Slytherin first-years. He didn't bother scolding them or deducting points; instead, he grabbed them by their collars and unceremoniously threw them out of the Potions classroom.
"Get out and find Filch. Detention!" he roared.
The room fell into an eerie silence as everyone immediately shut their mouths, making sure not to draw any further attention to themselves. The tension was palpable.
Kyle, having little to do, decided to look busy by preparing ingredients in advance. Although this particular step wasn't in Magical Drafts and Potions, Snape required them to make a long slit along the side of the porcupine quills, and the slugs had to be boiled beforehand. The exact reason was never explained, but when Ryan had been bold enough to ask, he was docked three points for his curiosity. Since then, no one else had dared to question the instructions.
Kyle took out a bag of ingredients and selected a porcupine quill that looked suitable. Wanting to pass the time, he cut it extremely slowly, taking over ten minutes to slice through a quill that was less than 30 centimeters long.
His obvious attempt at dragging things out, however, didn't go unnoticed.
Snape appeared silently beside him, like a shadow, picking up one of the quills from Kyle's table. He examined the uneven cut before sneering.
"I recall instructing you to cut a straight line. What is this? A dried Flobberworm caterpillar? Or do you simply not understand what 'straight line' means?"
Kyle blinked, caught off guard. He glanced at Snape, then down at the porcupine quill in his hand, which he hadn't yet finished cutting. It looked fine to him.
Had he forgotten what he'd done?
Or maybe Snape had deliberately picked up someone else's quill just to find a reason to scold him? That didn't seem likely, though. While Snape had a reputation for being ruthless when it came to deducting points, this level of pettiness seemed out of character—especially considering Kyle's last name wasn't Potter.
Before Kyle could say anything, Kanna, who had been standing next to him, timidly raised her hand. Her voice wavered, on the verge of tears.
"Professor... I cut that one," she admitted shakily.