"Finally, I want to emphasize one thing," Dumbledore told the students. "Although we don't know the exact cause of the three students' illness, healers from St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries have confirmed that it cannot be transmitted from person to person."
Of course, Scott thought.
If this virus could spread from person to person, things would have gotten completely out of hand, and it would have attracted far more attention. That wasn't what he wanted.
Who would have guessed that it was a Muggle World virus that could only be transmitted by certain kinds of mosquitoes?
Now that the students had heard that the illness couldn't spread from person to person, smiles spread across their faces.
But just as they were about to cheer again, Dumbledore warned them once more. "This means that we still haven't found the exact way the disease is transmitted. So I think you should remain vigilant."
The students who had been about to jump up and cheer fell silent. Their excitement immediately died down.
"Next, we'll do everything we can to prevent the disease from appearing again."
Dumbledore smiled reassuringly at the students.
"First, our respected matron, Madam Pomfrey, and your Potions professor, Professor Snape, will investigate this disease. I'm sure they'll soon develop a specific treatment and potion."
Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape both nodded.
"Very good. I have faith in their abilities."
Dumbledore offered them his encouragement, then continued, "Next, our caretaker, Mr. Filch, and our groundskeeper, Hagrid, will clean Hogwarts Castle and the surrounding area, dealing with insects, rats, and other small creatures that might spread the disease..."
Dumbledore methodically laid out the plans for cleaning up the school, but Scott stopped listening.
As the culprit behind the whole incident, he certainly wasn't worried about the disease. On the contrary, most of the dangers directed at him had already been dealt with. There was just one thing left.
Scott turned and looked at Jacob Kent, who was seated at the end of the long table.
He remembered Jasmine Travers once saying something about "letting him finish that thing." He just didn't know what she had wanted Jacob to do, or whether the boy would still do it now.
As if sensing Scott's gaze, Jacob, who had been keeping his head down, looked up and met Scott's eyes.
Scott's lips curled slightly as he gave Jacob the faintest smile.
Jacob's eyes flickered, and he lowered his head again.
Scott watched him for a few more seconds before turning away.
Unfortunately, he couldn't make any more moves against the boy. Every action left a trace, and the more he did, the easier it would be to expose himself.
But Scott wasn't worried. He could read a lot from a wizard's magical state, and Jacob was undoubtedly a clever boy. At this point, he probably wouldn't dare do anything else.
By the time Dumbledore finished speaking, they were finally able to eat breakfast.
After breakfast, three of the four Heads of House—everyone except Professor McGonagall—called several students away from their respective House groups.
They said the students had recently been in close contact with the three sick students and needed to be examined. But Scott noticed that most of those called away were younger witches.
So the professors had already discovered Travers's little group.
Scott's roommates noticed it too.
[I told you so!]
Eddie raised his eyebrows at Scott and the others, looking smug.
The three of them ignored him. They parted ways with Eddie and headed to the Potions Classroom in the castle's dungeons.
Ravenclaw still had Potions with Hufflepuff. As usual, the students sat in groups. Since Professor Snape hadn't arrived yet, everyone was enthusiastically discussing Dumbledore's speech that morning.
Scott and Milton sat together. At some point, Roger had apparently met another Hufflepuff girl. They sat in front of Scott and Milton, huddled together and whispering.
On the other side, Roger's ex-girlfriend, Miss Mill, kept turning around to glare at the two of them.
"We're probably making an antidote today," Milton said, opening his textbook. "I have to go over the steps again."
"I remember you've already read them three times, Milton." Scott busied himself arranging the potion-making tools within easy reach.
Milton didn't even look up. "I can't help it. Whenever Professor Snape stands beside me, my memory gets worse. I forget what to do next."
"I don't think it has anything to do with your memory," Scott said helplessly. "You just get nervous too easily. Don't worry about Professor Snape. Remember, we're partners. I'll give you hints."
Milton gave him a grateful look. "Oh, thank you, Scott! But I still have to read it one more time."
Scott had nothing to say. It was always like this. Whenever he partnered with Milton in Potions, Scott had to keep stepping in to save him.
Snape was always gliding around the classroom, scowling as he watched every student. It was hard for students with weaker nerves not to make mistakes under his gaze.
Milton, for example.
Whenever someone made a mistake, Snape would curl his upper lip and begin spewing venom in his uniquely sneering tone. That usually made the student even more flustered.
And if a student made another mistake, Snape would certainly take points away.
Scott strongly suspected that Snape deliberately used this method to find opportunities to drain the House Points from every House except Slytherin.
Incidentally, Milton was one of Snape's favorite students to watch in class.
But because Scott always stepped in to save the day, Snape rarely managed to take points away from Milton. Scott thought that was why Snape disliked him.
As for Scott's own Potions grades, they were neither good nor bad. He was just capable of following the textbook instructions to the letter.
"Rigid! Utterly lacking in creativity!"
That was Snape's assessment of him.
Scott never took it to heart—
He had no plans to pursue advanced studies in Potions, and he didn't hold himself to such high standards.
He thought being able to successfully follow an existing recipe was good enough.
"Silence!"
Snape suddenly pushed open the classroom door and strode toward the front. His wide black robes billowed around him like a gathering cloud of black smoke.
"Open your textbooks."
His dark, hollow gaze swept over the classroom. The students all lowered their heads; no one wanted to meet his eyes.
"Antidotes. I assume you've read the relevant section of your textbooks," he said. "Now! One student from each group, come up and collect your potion ingredients!"
Before you continue