Section Two: Brook did not attend Dark Arts class.
Professor Quirrell did not react much. He probably had not taken attendance, so he did not even know Brook was absent.
But Hermione could not accept it.
What kind of behavior was skipping class?
It was practically a world-ending offense.
S3 had begun, and the whole world was throwing around "Big Gudu."
Her little mouth rattled on as she fiercely berated Brook.
It was as if he had committed some unforgivable crime.
Brook, on the other hand, was quite amused.
He had to admit, Hermione was pretty interesting like this.
Still, to keep Hermione from tattling—she had done plenty of telling on people to teachers—
he invited Hermione to the library.
For Hermione, there was nothing that could not be solved with one trip to the library.
And if one trip did not work, then two would.
Brook was actually quite interested in Hogwarts's library as well.
There had been a saying in his previous life.
Your university professors might be the most impressive people you would ever meet in your life.
The books in a university library might be your greatest opportunity in life to broaden your knowledge.
Many of those books were precious works that you simply could not see or buy on the market.
The History of Magic lecturer was a ghost named Bins.
Professor Bins not only read straight from the textbook, but his voice was completely devoid of inflection.
Even though Brook loved studying history, he was starting to feel drowsy.
He could only twirl his wand to preserve his last shred of wakefulness.
That was probably the greatest respect he could show history.
However, that respect probably would not last much longer.
On Wednesday night, they had an Astronomy class.
It was also their only evening class of the week.
Brook had not looked at the stars in many years, so he had a favorable impression of Astronomy.
At the top of the Astronomy Tower, with the faint chill carried by the breeze, he admired the vast, boundless starry sky.
At that moment, he felt as though his soul had been cleansed.
Friday had only one major class—two consecutive Potions lessons.
They were going to the library that afternoon.
Dinner was arranged at Hagrid's place.
At breakfast, Brook received a note from Hagrid.
Hagrid had gotten hold of quite a few vegetable seeds, as well as several Billywigs and a Quintaped.
The moment Brook saw the name Billywig, his mouth began watering, and even the bread in his mouth seemed much more fragrant.
The previous night in the library, he had happened to find a copy of the Asian Antidote Encyclopedia.
It included an introduction to Billywigs.
This insect contained a venom that made people dizzy and disoriented after being stung, before sending them floating lazily into the air.
But once their venom glands and stingers were removed, these insects could be deep-fried or pickled.
If Hagrid had been there, he definitely would have shouted,
"Hagrid gets me. ε٩(๑＞ ₃ ＜)۶з"
As for the Quintaped, he had never seen one before. He planned to look through the Asian Antidote Encyclopedia again later and see whether it had any relevant information.
Potions class was held in an underground classroom.
Many glass jars were neatly arranged along the walls, containing all sorts of strange preserved animal specimens.
The Potions professor was Slytherin's Head of House—Severus Snape.
He was said to be extremely unfriendly toward Harry, though in truth, he was unfriendly toward everyone else as well.
"Potion-making is a precise science and an exact art... I can teach you how to brew fame, bottle glory, and even stop death—but only if you are not a bunch of fools with heads full of cogon grass."
Although Snape's tone was cold and without a trace of emotion,
the rise and fall of his words carried a truly imposing presence.
However, Snape's firepower was clearly focused on Harry.
"Potter!" he suddenly called.
"If I add powdered asphodel root to an infusion of wormwood, what will I get?"
Harry was completely dumbfounded. What was all this supposed to mean?
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How could he possibly know?
"I... I don't know, Professor."
"Tsk, tsk... It seems fame is not everything." Snape curled his lip disdainfully. "Where would you find a bezoar?"
"I don't know, Professor."
"Potter, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
Hermione stood up and thrust her raised hand straight toward the ceiling.
Brook rolled his eyes helplessly.
He directly pulled Hermione's hand down and pressed her back into her seat.
With Snape's tone, this was clearly a quarrel between a "young couple."
Why was she butting in? She had better be careful not to get burned herself.
Just as Hermione looked at Brook in confusion, Snape said, "Lott, you answer."
Brook was a little stunned.
How had watching the drama ended up involving him?
But since Snape had called on him, he could only answer reluctantly.
"Powdered asphodel root and wormwood make a Draught of Peace. A bezoar is a stone from a cow's gallbladder. It can clear heat and toxins, cool the liver, calm convulsions, open the senses, and restore consciousness. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are both aconite. There is no difference."
Fortunately, everything Snape asked about was from the first few pages of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, or he would not have known either.
Snape gave Brook a deep look. "Sit down."
Potions class continued.
Snape began teaching them how to brew a potion for treating scabies.
Like a great bat, he dragged his long robes around the classroom as he patrolled back and forth.
The pressure in the classroom kept mounting.
Forget whispering to one another—even when crushing snake fangs,
the young wizards instinctively softened their movements, trying not to make too much noise.
Brook did not pay much attention to any of that. He began following the steps written on the blackboard.
The steps Snape had written were slightly different from those in the textbook.
But he believed Snape's method had to be better than the book's.
Hermione, meanwhile, was responsible for measuring the ingredients and brewing.
A perfect division of labor between a man and a woman made the work easy.
The Scab Cure Potion quickly began to take shape.
Snape circled around them three times without finding any chance to spray them with venom.
Just as they were about to finish, a loud bang suddenly rang out in the classroom.
Neville had burned a hole through his cauldron, and purple potion splashed everywhere.
Brook immediately cast an Engorgement Charm. His textbook enlarged tenfold, becoming like a shield that completely covered him and Hermione.
Snape gave Brook a surprised glance but said nothing, instead striding over to Neville to deal with the mess.
Neville's body had been soaked through by the potion. Scabies immediately erupted all over him, and he cried out in pain.
The young wizards around him had also been affected to varying degrees, with plenty of scabies breaking out on their bodies as well.
"Did you add the porcupine quills before removing the cauldron from the fire?"
Snape felt like he could barely keep his blood pressure under control.
In all his years of teaching, this was the first time he had encountered someone capable of blowing up a cauldron.
"You two, take them to the infirmary."
"Potter, why didn't you warn him? Were you trying to make yourself look better by displaying his stupidity? One point from Gryffindor."
Snape said coldly.
An hour later, Potions class finally ended.
Everyone poured their finished potions into small bottles and handed them in at the front one by one.
Snape's mouth was a little like Hermione's.
Clearly, he meant well, but he insisted on saying everything in such a vicious way.
He commented on every potion and pointed out its shortcomings.
For example, Harry and Ron's potion.
"What is this supposed to be, Scab Cure Potion? Are your eyes just there for breathing? How much dried nettle did you put in? Are you trying to itch someone to death?"
As for the Scab Cure Potion made by Brook and Hermione, Snape merely glanced at it before setting it aside.
He gave their classwork an "O."
(Readers with pictures, post them. Severus Snape deserves it.)
(Preemptive disclaimer: In the first book, Snape asked about an ox bezoar, but in the sixth book, it was changed to goat bezoars.)
If you cannot find the book by searching its title, try searching for the author. It may have simply been renamed!
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