Potions Class and Slughorn's Favor

After Transfiguration, the air still seemed to retain the lingering echoes of Dumbledore's gentle yet powerful magic, along with the ripples stirred by Ares's thought-provoking question. Tom remained somewhat silent along the way. Only after they passed through the damp corridors on the castle's lower levels and headed toward the dungeon Potions Classroom did he seem to refocus on what lay before him.

Unlike the bright Transfiguration classroom, the Potions Classroom was colder and better suited to Slytherin's image of a dungeon. Its walls were built of rough stone, carrying the scent of herbs and chemical reagents accumulated over countless years. Glass jars containing preserved animal specimens lined the walls, looking especially eerie in the dim light. Rows of stone tables filled the center of the classroom, each equipped with a copper cauldron and a small magical furnace.

When the Slytherin first-years entered the classroom alongside the Hufflepuff first-years, a round, walrus-like figure with a fluffy honey-colored beard stood behind the lectern. He wore an extravagant dark green velvet robe embroidered with intricate patterns, with a glittering gemstone brooch pinned to his chest. It was Professor Horace Slughorn.

"Ah, new faces! Welcome, welcome, my dear new friends!" Slughorn's voice was loud and enthusiastic, standing in sharp contrast to the chilly surroundings. His round, shrewdly gleaming eyes swept over every student like searchlights. His smile brightened even more when he saw Abraxas Malfoy, but it also noticeably paused as it passed over Tom and Ares, revealing intense interest.

"Potions!" Slughorn spread his arms as though he wished to embrace the subject. "It is a precise science and a marvelous art! It can brew glory, prevent death, and even... concoct love potions that set hearts racing!" He winked at the students, drawing a low burst of laughter.

"Of course," his tone shifted, carrying a note of warning, "it can also cause terrible disasters. Therefore, strictly following each step is the foremost rule in my classroom! Now, turn to page three of Magical Drafts and Potions. Today, we will learn a simple potion for treating boils."

Unlike Dumbledore, who emphasized principles and inspiring thought, Slughorn's teaching focused more on practice, technique, and uncovering "promising" students. He explained every detail thoroughly: how to prepare each ingredient, how to control the heat, and which direction and how many times to stir.

"Now, work in pairs and begin! Let me see those nimble hands!"

The classroom immediately became busy, filled with the sounds of handling dried nettles, grinding snake fangs, and cutting horned slugs. The atmosphere was far more tense than in Transfiguration, while the air filled with the smells of all sorts of strange ingredients.

Tom naturally paired up with Ares. Tom handled the ingredients, his movements precise and steady, with an almost cold efficiency, as though he were not preparing a potion but conducting a rigorous experiment. Ares controlled the heat and added ingredients according to the steps. With the system's assistance and his own meticulousness, he timed everything perfectly.

They worked seamlessly together, and the potion in their cauldron took on the ideal pale blue described in the textbook. Other groups, by comparison, were in all sorts of trouble. Bilierce and another Hufflepuff boy had strange green smoke rising from their cauldron, while the group beside them had stirred in the wrong direction and turned their potion into something like thick sludge.

Slughorn paced around the classroom with his hands behind his back, occasionally offering praise or corrections.

"Very standard, Mr. Malfoy! Perfect thickness on those ginger root slices!"

"Oh, Merlin! Mr. Black, stop at once! Are you trying to blow up the classroom?"

When he reached Tom and Ares's table, his plump body came to a stop, his round eyes fixed intently on their perfectly colored potion.

"Hmm..." He leaned closer to sniff it, then looked at the cleanly prepared ingredients at Tom's side and the neatly arranged, precisely measured materials in front of Ares. Unconcealed admiration appeared on his face. "Beautiful! Very beautiful! Mr. Riddell, Mr. Phoenix, correct? Perfect teamwork! Expert handling of the ingredients, and the heat control is beyond reproach! Five points to Slytherin for this... hmm, nearly perfect Boil-Cure Potion!"

His booming voice echoed through the classroom, and nearly everyone turned to look at their table. Tom gave a slight nod, wearing just the right amount of humility. "Thank you, Professor." Ares quietly echoed his thanks.

Slughorn's gaze moved back and forth between the two of them, lingering for a moment on Ares's strange eyes and markings. In the end, however, his attention settled more heavily on Tom. A child from a Muggle orphanage—he had clearly already made inquiries—yet possessing such talent, looks, and manners was simply an uncut diamond!

"Very good, very good..." Slughorn patted Tom on the shoulder, his tone affectionate. "Keep it up, my dear boy! I look forward to seeing what you achieve in the future." He glanced once more at their nearly completed potion before strolling contentedly toward the next group.

After class, the students packed their things and prepared to leave. Slughorn stood by the door, smiling warmly as he bid farewell to the departing students. When Tom and Ares passed by, he deliberately called out to Tom.

"Ah, Mr. Riddell, please stay a moment."

Tom stopped, and Ares naturally stood slightly behind him at his side.

Slughorn rubbed his chubby hands together, his face full of a kindly smile. "Mr. Riddell, I was impressed by your performance in class. Very impressed! You see, I occasionally hold little gatherings and invite students who are... hmm... especially gifted, or who have interesting backgrounds. We gather together, enjoy some delicious refreshments, and exchange knowledge and connections... beyond the classroom." He lowered his voice as though sharing a secret. "I believe there may be one next Friday evening. Would you be interested in attending?"

This was an invitation to the Slug Club! An extraordinarily bright gleam flashed through Tom's eyes, but he quickly restrained it. An honored yet slightly shy expression appeared on his face. "It would be my honor, Professor. Thank you very much for the invitation."

"Wonderful!" Slughorn said happily. He looked at Ares again, hesitated, then added, "Of course, if Mr. Phoenix is interested, he is welcome to come as well. Your... unique perspective would surely be quite interesting." His interest in Ares seemed to stem more from curiosity about a "special specimen" than the investment in a "promising prospect" he saw in Tom.

"Thank you, Professor," Ares replied calmly, showing no excessive enthusiasm.

Slughorn nodded in satisfaction, offered Tom a few more encouraging words, and only then allowed them to leave.

Once they stepped out of the Potions Classroom, even the chill of the dungeon corridor seemed much less biting. Tom's steps were light. Though his face remained calm, the fire burning in his black eyes revealed his inner excitement. Slughorn's club! It was the perfect opportunity to reach Hogwarts's elite circles and build more valuable connections!

"He values you more," Ares stated, breaking the silence.

A cold curve touched Tom's lips. "Of course. What he sees is my 'potential'—a 'miracle' from the Muggle world with extraordinary talent." There was a trace of mockery in his tone, but even more determination to make use of that attention. "But he invited you too. That means your 'difference' has also caught his interest. That is good."

He looked at Ares, his gaze sharp. "We need to make good use of this opportunity. In the club, I will be the focus, while you..." He paused. "You need to observe, listen, and use that... insight of yours to identify valuable information and people. At the same time, maintain your mystery."

It was another division of labor. Tom would seize attention and resources in the spotlight, while Ares would provide support and analysis behind the scenes. This was the most effective pattern they had developed together.

"I know what to do," Ares said with a nod.

They headed down the corridor toward the Great Hall, preparing to have lunch. Their success in Potions Class and Slughorn's favor were like a shot of stimulant injected into Tom's ambition. He could almost see the path before him, climbing step by step through Slytherin and even Hogwarts.

As for Ares, he watched Tom's profile grow ever more radiant under the drive of ambition. Feeling the pulse of light and darkness in balance from the Eternal Cycle wand in his arms, countless thoughts churned in his heart. Slughorn's club was a stepping stone, but it could also become a stage that magnified the darkness within Tom. He had to guide him even more carefully and protect that faint starlight called "bond" on this road to power filled with temptation.