Potions Class and Slughorn's Favor

After Transfiguration class, the air still seemed to carry the gentle yet powerful magical residue of Dumbledore's lesson, along with the ripples left by Ares's thought-provoking question. Tom remained somewhat silent the entire way, only seeming to refocus his attention when they crossed the damp corridors of the castle's lower levels and headed toward the Potions classroom in the dungeons.

Unlike the bright Transfiguration classroom, the Potions classroom was colder and more in line with a Slytherin's imagination of the dungeons. The walls were rough stone blocks, exuding the accumulated scent of herbs and chemical reagents over the years. Glass jars containing preserved animal specimens lined the walls, looking eerily strange in the dim light. In the center of the room were rows of stone tables, each equipped with a copper cauldron and a small magical burner.

When the Slytherin first-years entered alongside the Hufflepuff first-years, a figure round as a walrus with a fluffy honey-colored beard stood behind the podium. He wore an opulent, dark green velvet robe embroidered with intricate patterns, and a sparkling gem brooch was pinned to his chest. It was Professor Horace Slughorn.

"Ah, new faces! Welcome, welcome, my dear new friends!" Slughorn's voice was booming and full of enthusiasm, a stark contrast to the cold surroundings. His round, shrewd eyes swept over every student like searchlights, his smile brightening especially when he spotted Abraxas Malfoy, but also pausing noticeably as they passed over Tom and Ares, showing keen interest.

"Potions!" Slughorn spread his arms as if to embrace the subject. "It is a precise science and a wonderful art! It can brew glory, halt death, and even... concoct love potions that make the heart race!" He winked at the students, drawing low chuckles.

"Of course," he added, his tone shifting with a hint of warning, "it can also cause terrible disasters. So, in my class, strictly following the steps is the primary rule! Now, open Magical Drafts and Potions to page three. Today, we'll learn a simple potion for curing boils."

Unlike Dumbledore, who emphasized principles and intellectual inspiration, Slughorn's teaching focused more on practice, technique, and identifying "promising" students. He explained the handling of each ingredient, temperature control, stirring direction and count, down to the smallest detail.

"Now, work in pairs! Let me see your nimble hands!"

The classroom immediately buzzed with activity, filled with the sounds of chopping stinging nettles, grinding snake fangs, and slicing horned slugs. The atmosphere was much more tense than in Transfiguration, with the smell of various bizarre materials hanging in the air.

Tom naturally paired up with Ares. Tom handled the ingredients, his movements precise and steady, with an almost cold efficiency, as if he weren't preparing a potion but conducting a rigorous experiment. Ares controlled the heat and added ingredients according to the steps, relying on the system's assistance and his own meticulousness to time everything perfectly.

They worked in sync, and the potion in their cauldron turned the ideal pale blue described in the textbook. In contrast, other groups were a mess. Bilierce and another Hufflepuff boy's cauldron was emitting strange green smoke; the group next to them had stirred in the wrong direction, turning their potion into thick, sticky sludge.

Slughorn paced the classroom with his hands behind his back, occasionally letting out praise or corrections.

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

"Oh, Merlin! Mr. Black, stop! Do you want to blow up the classroom?"

When he reached Tom and Ares's table, his bulky body stopped, and his round eyes fixed on their perfectly colored potion.

"Hmm..." He leaned in to smell it, then looked at the neatly processed ingredients beside Tom and the precisely measured components laid out before Ares, his face showing undisguised approval. "Beautiful! Very beautiful! Mr. Riddell, Mr. Phoenix, is it? Perfect teamwork! Skilled handling of ingredients, impeccable temperature control! Five points to Slytherin! For this... hmm, nearly perfect Cure for Boils potion!"

His booming voice echoed through the classroom, and almost everyone looked at their table. Tom gave a slight nod, his face wearing just the right amount of humility. "Thank you, Professor." Ares echoed softly.

Slughorn's gaze swept back and forth between them, lingering especially on Ares's strange eyes and markings. In the end, his attention focused more on Tom. A child from a Muggle orphanage (he had clearly already inquired), yet possessing such talent, appearance, and demeanor—this was an uncut diamond!

"Very good, very good..." Slughorn patted Tom's shoulder, his tone intimate. "Keep it up, my dear boy! I look forward to your future performance." He took another look at their nearly finished potion before contentedly pacing to the next group.

After class, the students packed up to leave. Slughorn stood at the door, beaming as he said goodbye. When Tom and Ares passed by, he specifically called out to Tom.

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

Tom stopped, and Ares naturally stood slightly behind him to the side.

Slughorn rubbed his pudgy hands together, his face piled with a genial smile. "Mr. Riddell, I was very impressed by your performance in class, very impressed indeed! You know, I occasionally host small gatherings, inviting... hmm... particularly talented or interestingly backgrounded students. Everyone gets together, enjoys some fine refreshments, and exchanges... some knowledge and connections beyond the classroom." He lowered his voice, adopting a tone of sharing a secret. "I think there might be one next Friday evening. Would you be interested in attending?"

This was an invitation to the Slug Club! A flash of extremely bright light sparked in Tom's eyes, but he quickly controlled it, his face showing flattered surprise mixed with slight shyness. "It would be my honor, Professor. Thank you very much for the invitation."

"Splendid!" Slughorn said happily. He glanced at Ares, hesitated for a moment, then added, "Of course, if Mr. Phoenix is interested, you're welcome to come along as well. Your... unique perspective should be quite interesting too." His interest in Ares seemed more out of curiosity for a "special specimen" than the investment in a "potential asset" that he showed toward Tom.

"Thank you, Professor." Ares replied calmly, without showing excessive enthusiasm.

Slughorn nodded contentedly, encouraged Tom a few more times, and then let them leave.

Walking out of the Potions classroom, the chill of the dungeon corridor seemed to have dissipated somewhat. Tom's steps were light, and though his face remained calm, the fire burning in his black eyes revealed his inner excitement. Slughorn's club! It was a perfect opportunity to access Hogwarts's elite circle and build more valuable connections!

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

A cold arc curled at the corner of Tom's mouth. "Of course. He sees my 'potential,' a 'miracle' from the Muggle world with extraordinary talent." His tone carried a hint of sarcasm, but more so a determination to exploit that attention. "But he invited you too, which means your 'difference' has also piqued his interest. That's good."

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

Another division of labor. Tom would seize attention and resources on the front stage, while Ares provided support and analysis behind the scenes. This was the most effective model they had honed.

"I know what to do." Ares nodded.

They walked along the corridor toward the Great Hall, ready for lunch. The success in Potions class and Slughorn's favor injected a shot of adrenaline into Tom's ambition. He could already see the path of climbing step by step within Slytherin, even within Hogwarts.

And Ares, watching Tom's increasingly dazzling profile driven by ambition, felt the pulse of the light-dark balance in the "Eternal Cycle" wand in his arms, his mind swirling with thoughts. Slughorn's club was a stepping stone, but it could also be a stage that amplified the darkness within Tom. He would have to guide more carefully, guarding the faint starlight called "bond" on this path full of tempting power.