Potions Class

On the fourth day of term, during Charms class, Oren and Hermione spent the entire lesson locked in a peak academic showdown.

Less than a week into term, Professor McGonagall's smile was harder to suppress than an AK. Now, even when she ran into Snape, the head of Slytherin, she stood a fair bit taller.

Outside the Charms classroom.

"Hmph~" Hermione gave a victorious snort.

After mocking him, the little witch hugged her books and turned away.

Harry and Ron gave Oren comforting pats on the shoulder.

Oren encouraged himself. "Victory and defeat are common in battle. I'll win next time!"

The two boys exchanged helpless looks.

He really wasn't proficient with these first-year spells. This wouldn't do—he had to hit the books! Leaving the two boys behind, Oren charged toward the Library.

Inside the Library, Oren sat across from Hermione with a stack of books in his arms. You foolish little witch, just watch me bury you in studying.

Time flew by, and before they knew it, it was the fifth day of term.

In the dormitory, Oren helped the others straighten their clothes.

"Good! You all look spirited!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Oren, what are you doing?"

"What am I doing? Don't you know? Today is Potions class!"

Ron asked, "What's so special about Potions? I thought you were sending us off to a duel."

Neville nodded in agreement but did not dare speak, afraid Oren would ask why he did not look spirited.

Ruffling his hair, Ron added, "Professor Snape makes things difficult for Gryffindor students. Fred and George told us that ages ago."

Oren advised, "Take a word from your big brother. You may know Potions well, but I know Snape better. You can't handle him."

Seeing that the three of them refused to listen, Oren could only helplessly lead them toward the Potions classroom, his back looking somewhat desolate.

Inside the classroom, Oren chose to sit with Harry. He vaguely remembered that Snape would probably target Harry.

This was the legendary hiding in plain sight. He refused to believe that he, a little wizard who had neither old grudges nor recent enmity with Snape, could attract more of that old bat's hatred than the protagonist.

He also thought to himself, We agreed—if you target Harry, you can't target me too.

Bang! Snape kicked open the door and swept onto the podium like a giant bat flying close to the ground.

He picked up the register and began calling names. "Oh~ so this is the famous Harry Potter."

Oren gave his desk mate Harry a look that said, May God help you.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making... Many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I do not expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron... unless you are the sort of bumbling idiot I so often encounter."

Oren could not help rolling his eyes. Snape was laying it on way too thick. That nonsense could only fool children.

Eager to prove she was not an idiot, Hermione stood and raised her hand, practically turning herself into the Statue of Liberty.

"Stop raising it," Oren said. "Put that little claw down already."

The little witch shot Oren a disdainful glance.

Fine, fine. Won't listen, huh? You could play the Statue of Liberty all lesson, and Snape still wouldn't spare you a second look.

Snape called out, "Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry!!!

"I don't know, sir."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Fame clearly isn't everything."

"If I asked you to find me a bezoar, where would you look?"

"I don't know, sir."

Draco and his two worthless lackeys laughed like pigs.

"What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"I don't know."

Harry looked rather dejected.

"Harry," Oren said in a low voice, "what are you scared of that old fossil for? He can't kill you. Talk back and shut him up!"

"Cheer up. Don't lose points. Good job!"

Harry straightened his back. "Why don't you ask Hermione?"

Snape barked at Hermione, "Sit down!"

Oren shot the little witch a look. See? You wouldn't listen to your big brother, and now you've suffered for it.

"Powdered root of asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion... Why aren't you writing any of this down?"

Snape looked at Potter, then at Black beside him, and grew angrier the longer he looked.

"Potter! One point off for talking back to a teacher."

"Black, what are you laughing at? Is your old professor so amusing? One point off!"

Oren??? Had the old bat eaten gunpowder today?

Potions class continued. They paired up to brew potions, while Snape pointed at every student's nose and sprayed venom at them.

Only Malfoy and Oren escaped unscathed.

Watching Harry fumble around, Oren's blood pressure shot through the roof.

"Harry! Put those troll claws down and read the book! Isn't the ingredient preparation written right there? We're brewing a potion! Are you cooking porridge for me here? Go, go, go! Cool off somewhere else! Stop making this harder for me!"

Oren pointed at Harry's nose. "Watch carefully and learn properly, got it?"

Harry shrank his neck beneath Oren-Snape-Ryan's verbal barrage. He could only swallow his anger and watch Oren work.

The corner of Snape's mouth lifted slightly. If this had not been a Gryffindor Black, he might even have awarded five points.

Bang! Something unknown exploded, splashing green liquid everywhere.

Oren casually grabbed a little snake from among the Slytherins as a shield. Was it Goyle or Crabbe? It did not matter. They looked pretty much the same anyway.

With his other hand, he shielded Hermione and Harry behind him. As for Ron? Sorry, he had done his best. His arms simply were not that long.

"Idiot!" Snape roared, waving his wand as he began cleaning up the mess.

Ron was fortunate enough to be fine, though he looked at Oren with resentment.

"Don't look at me like that, Ron. I did my best."

The little wizards within the blast radius broke out in boils.

Neville and Seamus had it worst, covered in boils from head to toe. Like two turtles unable to roll themselves over, they writhed on the floor and wailed.

Snape roared, "Did you add the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

"Take them all to the hospital wing!"

"Potter, why didn't you warn him? Does his mistake make you look better? One point off!"

After class, outside the classroom.

Oren patted Hermione's shoulder. "So? Got a face full of venom, didn't you?"

"Fine, fine, you're amazing, all right? You and Malfoy were the only ones not scolded all lesson," the little witch praised him perfunctorily.

The little lions around them stared at Oren as though he were a Gryffindor traitor.

"I learned Potions from Snape for an entire holiday. Besides, what kind of relationship do the professor and I have? We may not be sworn brothers or closest friends, but we're at least teacher and friend."

Harry asked incredulously, "How did you do that?"

"If you dueled Snape for an entire holiday, you could build an unbreakable friendship with him too."

The little wizards around them went, "Tch~"

If he did not want to say, he did not have to. Why brag like that?

"You? Duel our Head of House?"

Draco drawled in that strange, mocking tone of his.

"Hey! You brat!"

Oren had barely started rolling up his sleeves when Draco fled with his lackeys.

Holding a white owl, Harry asked, "Oren, do you want to go see Hagrid with me?"

"Let's go." Oren missed the vegetable patch—no, Hagrid too.

The group arrived outside Hagrid's hut, and Harry knocked on the door.

Hagrid's voice came from inside. "Fang, come back here!"

"Come here, Fang." Oren scooped up the big dog from the ground. Once they entered the hut, he began vigorously rubbing Fang's head.

"Hagrid, this is Ron."

"I know, Harry. Another Weasley. Getting the twins out of the Forbidden Forest nearly cost me half my life."

Ron awkwardly touched his nose.

"I helped Hagrid catch them once."

As Oren gnawed on a rock cake, he described how brilliantly he had planned and how keenly he had observed before capturing the twins.

The two boys did not hear a single word.

Harry stared at Oren in astonishment as he swallowed a slab of biscuit hard enough to crack teeth.

Ron, meanwhile, felt as if at least two fire dragons were chewing granite beside his ears.

Coming back to himself, Harry began complaining to Hagrid about the past few days—the classes, and Filch too.

"Professor Snape seems to really hate me."

"How could that be, little Harry? Why would he hate you?"

After taking a sip of tea, Oren said, "Don't overthink it, Harry. Snape probably just hates you, plain and simple."

Harry...

"How is your brother Charlie doing, Ron?" Hagrid abruptly changed the subject.

Harry gave Hagrid a puzzled look, then pulled a copy of the Daily Prophet out from beneath the teapot and began reading.

"Hagrid! We were at Gringotts on the very day the robbery happened."

Seeing Hagrid grow somewhat flustered, Oren felt that whatever the matter was, he ought to help him out first.

Oren pulled out several Galleons. "Hagrid, subscribe me to this Daily Prophet too."

"And Hagrid, should we plant some orange trees? I've spent three days and three nights trying to understand why pumpkin juice can even count as a beverage."

Hagrid considered it briefly. "Maybe we could clear another patch of land."

"Sure. We can buy some saplings, and for the growth rate, we can ask Professor Sprout. She should have a way."

Hagrid and Oren exchanged a look and immediately got to work.

To avoid being drafted into labor by Oren, Harry and Ron could only hurriedly say goodbye.

Oren did not return to the dormitory until before curfew. The moment he entered, he saw Harry and Ron sitting there, cosplaying thinkers.

"What? You two couldn't scrape together one brain cell between you. What are you thinking about?"

Oren said this as he took the dinner Neville had saved for him.

"I'm thinking about that Gringotts vault robbery in the newspaper. Hagrid and I happened to be there that day, and Hagrid took a small package out of Vault 713."

"Could the thing Hagrid took be what the intruder was looking for?"

Ron nodded in agreement.

Oren looked at Harry in confusion. Hmm? Black hair, cowlick, glasses...

"Harry, you'll definitely become an excellent..."

"An excellent wizard?" Harry's tone lacked confidence.

"An excellent detective."

Ron pointed at himself. "What about me?"

"You two? One can be Holmes, and the other can be Watson, all right?"

Harry and Ron...

"All right, instead of wasting time on this, you should learn more about Potions. Then you'll suffer less in class."

Glancing at Neville, whose face was red from struggling to write his Potions essay, Oren took out the homework the twins had written for him and handed it over.

"All right, all right, stop torturing yourself. Take this and use it for reference, but don't copy it word for word."

The two boys asked, "What about us?"

"Copy it, copy it. Stop looking at me so pitifully."