Potions Class

Hoffa was still thinking about how to get the Transfiguration books from the library, so he did not pay much attention to Miranda's request. He answered casually, "All right, I'll go."

Miranda continued in a low voice, "Pario was originally planning to discuss with the Head of House about making her a Seeker outright. Unfortunately, Gorshak thought first-years shouldn't be allowed to join Quidditch, so she was only made a reserve."

Hoffa was somewhat surprised. Wasn't that practically the same treatment Harry had received? If Gorshak had loosened up just a little more, she would definitely have become another first-year Seeker.

He turned to look at the girl in the middle of the crowd, thinking that she really did fit the mold of a protagonist. A Seeker was practically the king of the team. Most of those famous figures from his previous life had excelled at Quidditch.

James, Harry, Malfoy, Cedric, Cho Chang, Krum, Ginny.

And so on.

Hoffa had previously thought she looked a little like Hermione, but now it seemed he had been mistaken. She was an all-rounder.

If Hoffa thought that compromising to keep the peace would have any effect, then he was gravely mistaken.

What happened next once again shattered his worldview.

On Friday, Hoffa had two classes.

Defence Against the Dark Arts and Potions.

Defence Against the Dark Arts had not yet been cursed in this era. It was just an ordinary subject. The teacher was a retired old Auror named Alastor Merrythought, who was also the Head of Gryffindor House.

He was very kind and humorous when teaching younger students, and mostly told them stories. Vampires, werewolves, dark fairies... all sorts of monsters he had faced in his youth. If Hoffa remembered correctly, he should have been the last normal Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. When he retired after teaching for seven years, Tom Riddle, upon graduating, wanted the position.

But after being rejected by Dumbledore and the others, Tom Riddle cursed the post. From then on, no teacher could remain in that position for more than a year.

After Defence Against the Dark Arts ended in the morning, Potions was in the afternoon.

The Potions professor was Slughorn, the Head of Slytherin House. While eating lunch, Hoffa suddenly came up with an idea regarding the library signature.

Compared with Snape in later years, Slughorn was much easier to talk to. He had even revealed the secret of Horcruxes to Voldemort, and handed his shameful memory over to Harry Potter.

But all of that depended on earning his approval.

That was right. Slughorn only associated with students he considered valuable, students he believed had promising futures, and regarded them as the most precious collection of his life. After retiring, he was even willing to come out of retirement just to become Harry's teacher.

Simply put, this man judged people by appearances and was somewhat of a snob.

But he was not malicious. If Hoffa could earn his approval, getting a signature from him to borrow books from the library should not be difficult.

After all, he had been willing to teach Voldemort the secret of Horcruxes. What was one signature in comparison?

Hoffa was usually rather casual in class, but today, after lunch, he headed straight for the washroom, tidied himself up until he was spotless, and slicked his black hair neatly back.

It made him look much more spirited. He was not ugly to begin with, and after dressing up carefully, he even looked a little handsome.

A good first impression, then a more active performance. Hoffa felt that he should be able to catch Slughorn's attention.

The Potions classroom was in Hogwarts' basement. It was colder and gloomier than the upper levels of the castle. Glass jars lined the walls, containing preserved animal specimens and mutated body parts. Hoffa found the place rather interesting. Slytherin's common room should be nearby.

After entering, he found the basement filled with a faint mist, all kinds of strange smells, and many bubbling cauldrons.

Hoffa examined them one by one and recognized every potion being brewed. Thanks to his above-average mental capacity, he had already memorized more than half the Potions books. If Slughorn asked questions, he felt he could stand out.

The desks in the basement classroom were round, since cauldrons had to be placed in the middle.

The Slytherin students sat at one table, and the Ravenclaw students did the same. That left Hoffa with no choice but to share a table with Argeleia.

And this time, unfortunately, the Slytherin table was very close to the Ravenclaw one. Tom Riddle, the future Dark Lord, sat directly opposite Hoffa.

The feeling of being surrounded from both sides made Hoffa uncomfortable, but he did not show it.

Not long after everyone settled down, the basement classroom door opened. Before Slughorn himself appeared, his huge belly had already entered first. Then came a man with a silver-mounted meerschaum pipe clamped between his teeth.

He wore a jacket stretched tight over his body. He was much younger than he would be fifty years later, not bald yet, but fatter.

He smiled amiably, looking like an enormous smoking walrus.

After entering the basement, Slughorn first swept his eyes over the students, lingering slightly longer on Argeleia and Tom Riddle, since the two of them had the most outstanding appearances.

Then he picked up the roll book, glanced through it, and began taking attendance.

Hoffa thought that this fellow was probably only taking attendance to see whether his students included descendants of great families or famous wizards.

So when he called Tom Marvolo's name, he was slightly surprised and looked at Tom among the students a second time. Marvolo of the Gaunt family was considered a notable figure as well.

Hoffa felt immense pressure. Voldemort was more handsome than him, and Voldemort also carried the aura of Salazar Slytherin. If he wanted to earn this man's favor, he had to perform exceptionally well. Otherwise, he would be like Ron, whose name Slughorn could not even remember. Getting a signature to enter the Restricted Section would be out of the question.

After taking attendance, Slughorn blew out a ring of smoke and said cheerfully, "All right, students, please take out your scales, ingredient pouches, and your copy of Magical Draughts and Potions."

The classroom filled with the rustling sounds of students taking things out.

Hoffa was a little disappointed. Was class starting just like that?

"However..." Slughorn continued, "before that, I have prepared several potions to broaden your horizons. Let you first experience the fascinating and wondrous magic of Potions."

As he spoke, he pointed at a hissing cauldron on the Slytherin table, white smoke rising from it, and asked, "Can anyone tell me what this potion is?"

Here it comes! Hoffa jolted upright and immediately raised his hand high.

Seeing someone raise a hand, Slughorn nodded happily.

"Very good. You, answer."

Hoffa stood and said, "A cold-resistance potion. The ingredients are daisy roots and licorice juice in a one-to-nine ratio, along with seal fat and mouse spleens. It is commonly used in Northern Europe and Siberia."

"Absolutely correct."

Slughorn spoke in a booming voice.

"What is your name?" He had indeed not remembered Hoffa's name.

"Hoffa Bach, sir."

"Bach, is it? Very good. Five points to Ravenclaw."

Slughorn nodded at Hoffa and had him sit down.

Hoffa was secretly delighted. It seemed he had made a good first impression on Slughorn. Once class was over, perhaps he could stay behind and ask for a signature.

Argeleia folded her arms and snorted disdainfully through her nose.

At the Slytherin table, Tom Riddle leaned back in his chair with interest.

Slughorn strolled over to another cauldron containing a gray solution and asked, "Now then, which student can tell me what potion this is?"

Without question, Hoffa's hand shot up toward the ceiling again.

Slughorn showed a surprised expression. "Bach, very good. Tell us."

Hoffa stood again and said, "A Petrification Potion. It is made from stone-dwelling warbler eggs, Fire Ash snake eggs, rock-hanging moss, and one cave spider eye. It is non-toxic, and its effect is to put someone into a brief petrified state for approximately fifteen minutes."

"Very accurate, very accurate! Student Hoffa. Another five points to Ravenclaw."

Slughorn puffed out a breath of smoke, looking appreciative. He turned to the students and said, "What are you all standing around for? Hurry up and write it down!"

The sound of parchment being pulled out rustled around the room. Even Tom Riddle picked up a quill.

But one person did not move.

It was Argeleia. Leaning back in her chair with one hand rubbing her chin, she stared at Hoffa with suspicion.

She had begun to doubt Hoffa's intentions.

Hoffa noticed Argeleia's ghostly gaze, but did not care. All his attention was on Slughorn. As long as he could make a good impression and obtain that signature, he could get that Transfiguration book from the Restricted Section.

After the students finished taking notes, Slughorn moved over to a cauldron of pale purple liquid.

"Is there anyone—"

Before he could finish, a hand shot into the air.

But this time, it was not Hoffa.

It was Argeleia.

Hoffa had never expected someone to cut in halfway through. Neither had Slughorn.

He froze with his pipe between his teeth.

"Miss Delacess, do you... have a question?"

Argeleia stood up directly.

Pointing at the pale purple cauldron, she said, "Fear Potion. Drinking it produces hallucinatory effects, and consuming enough of it can even cause psychological trauma. It is a technique more than a hundred years old." She shook her head disdainfully. "The ingredients are raven feathers, short antlers, and a little dark fairy blood. Ordinarily, this potion should be crimson, but to make it look more deceptive, you added purple mountain flowers." She smacked her lips. "A clumsy method, though it is enough to deceive certain people."

Her eyes flicked toward Hoffa. "I'm afraid some shallow and ignorant people might mistake it for a restorative potion and drink it without hesitation."

Hoffa took a deep breath, clamping his teeth tightly against the inside of his lower lip as he sat silently in his chair.

Slughorn's eyes were full of shock, but it was not over yet.

Argeleia pointed at another cauldron shining with sparkling green light.

"Luminous Potion, brewed from tree spirit sap, glow mushrooms, and ghost skin. It can make one's entire body shine in the dark. Ancient wizards discovered it by accident while observing certain animals courting. But in my opinion, if you added a little chameleon scale, the luminous effect would become richer and last longer..."

(A minute later, she was the only one still showing off in the entire basement. Hoffa's face had turned livid, while Slughorn's eyes were filled with amazement.)

Argeleia said, "...This one is a Featherlight Potion, making your body as light as a feather. You used eagle feathers, flying mushroom fungus, and luna moth wings. But in my opinion, this method is far too old-fashioned. A single drop of purified siren blood would achieve the same effect..."

(A minute later.)

Argeleia said, "...Wolf Repellent Potion. While it works against werewolves, if you added a little wailing deathbell, it could have the same effect on those vile, ill-intentioned humans. You did not manage that. A little regrettable."

(A minute later, Slughorn was sweating profusely.)

"...Of course, I am not saying that none of the potions in this basement have merit. For example, I think the Sleeping Potion you brewed is quite ingenious. Not only can it put wizards with depression into restful sleep, it can also make patients feel as though they had fallen asleep naturally."

Argeleia pointed at a cauldron of colorless, transparent liquid in front of her and offered a few words of praise. Those few words actually made Slughorn look as though a burden had been lifted from him.

But then the girl continued:

"However, because of the irresistible potency of Sleeping Potion, it is a controlled substance under the Ministry of Magic and should not appear in a lower-year classroom. I imagine you intended it as an extra credit item, but if someone lacking self-control were to..."

Slughorn began sweating again.

No one knew how many minutes passed before the silver-haired girl in the center of the classroom finally ended her long speech. She folded her arms and swept her gaze around the classroom. When she saw Hoffa, she even smiled mockingly.

At last, Slughorn tremblingly pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

In a hoarse voice, he said, "You, you and... you and Igo Moises, president of the European Potioneers' Association..."

Argeleia said mockingly, "He is my incompetent great-grandfather."

The entire class sucked in a sharp breath.

Hoffa slumped back in his chair, tilted his head up, and let out a breath. His face was ashen.

"Just as expected," Slughorn clapped his hands. "Exceptional talent, exceptional talent! You are practically a born Potions genius! Fifty points to Ravenclaw!"

At that moment, he looked at Argeleia as though he were looking at an unparalleled piece of uncut jade.

As for who Hoffa was, he had already forgotten.

The entire class followed Slughorn in applauding. Hoffa did not. He even closed his eyes, afraid that he would not be able to suppress the fury in them.

After class, Slughorn called out cheerfully to Argeleia.

"Oh, right, Miss Delacess. On the third of next month, I am holding a small dinner with a few upper-year students. Would you have time to honor us with your presence?"

Argeleia frowned and hesitated for a second.

Then she saw Hoffa's gloomy expression and immediately looked as though she understood. She nodded pleasantly at Slughorn and gave him a sweet smile.

"It would be my honor, sir."

Hoffa strode out the door. At that moment, he was so furious he felt ready to explode.

It was all fucking ruined!

All of it!

Now Slughorn only had eyes for Argeleia. How was he supposed to get that signature?