Eli finally got a taste of what it was like to have Snape teach him one-on-one.
Snape treated him a little differently from the other students, but when it came to Potions, he was an undeniably strict teacher.
"Eli, have you gone blind with age? One more drop, and I'll have to redecorate my office."
"Has Potter's stupidity rubbed off on you? You can't even tell these two apart?"
"If you make that mistake again, you might as well give up Potions and go feed pigs. Then you won't have to worry about dosages."
Eli was at a loss for words.
Could that damned old bat keep his mouth shut if he couldn't say anything nice?
Snape really was Hogwarts' champion of insults. He didn't need a single swear word to leave Eli, a budding trash-talker himself, utterly crushed.
Could I talk back?
Sorry, Eli didn't dare.
But foul mouth or not, Snape taught Eli a great deal about Potions.
That one afternoon was worth more than half a semester of regular classes.
Snape's teaching wasn't much different from the so-called cramming method Eli remembered from his previous life.
Right from the start, he had Eli memorize vast numbers of potion recipes and the properties of different ingredients.
Luckily, Eli had a photographic memory. Otherwise, it would have taken him an entire semester to remember it all.
Eli wanted to learn how Snape had brewed a potion so casually when demonstrating it to him.
Snape glanced at him and fell silent for a moment before suppressing the urge to tear into him.
According to Snape, Eli couldn't learn that until he had a deep understanding of the ingredients' properties and had reached a certain level of control over his magic.
Snape also found time to teach Eli how to control his magic.
It was much faster than practicing alone at the Leaky Cauldron!
Still, greater gains demanded greater effort.
By the end of the whole session, sharp pains kept shooting through his head.
It was the result of overusing his soul's power.
Fortunately, he had been working to strengthen his soul all along. That let him train longer and harder than most people, so naturally, he improved faster.
Snape had nearly brought out every secret trick he had, and Eli benefited enormously.
If this is what I get because Snape judges by appearances, heh, give me more of it!
"Ron, what are you so excited about?"
On the way to Flying Class, Ron's delight was written all over his face. He was practically bouncing!
"Do you know what Flying Class means?"
Ron spoke mysteriously, with a hint of anticipation. He clearly wanted to share his enthusiasm with his friends.
"Quidditch?"
Eli blurted it out. Nice try. If you get to show off, what does that leave for me?
I'm calling it now: I'm the biggest show-off in all of Hogwarts.
Ron's expression froze. The young wizards around them burst out laughing at his expense.
Ron's face reddened. "Eli, you're no fun!"
"Then why don't you tell us what Quidditch is, Ron?"
Harry was the kindest after all, giving Ron a chance to speak—if you ignored the smile on his face.
Eli stopped interrupting. He knew how much Ron loved Quidditch. Ron had already been telling them Quidditch news nonstop.
Which team had won the championship that year, where a promising new player had appeared—the lot.
Eli figured that if Ron devoted even a fraction of that passion to Potions, he wouldn't get yelled at every Saturday.
Ron finally had his chance. He even cleared his throat and put on an air of expertise.
The group chatted and laughed as they made their way to the flying grounds.
A Slytherin walking among a crowd of Gryffindors was quite a sight.
At first, the young Gryffindors might have had reservations about Eli because of their houses. But once they got to know him, they quickly cast those prejudices aside.
House prejudice, it seemed, was nothing more than something busybodies liked to stir up.
Some people still treated it like an ironclad rule, though.
Draco Malfoy, for one, stood a short distance away with a group of Slytherins behind him, glaring coldly at Eli.
As heir to the Malfoys, one of the top Pure-blood Families, Draco held considerable standing among the status-conscious Slytherins, who loved forming cliques.
Draco had grown up surrounded by admirers and was so used to being fawned over that he didn't even have a friend who treated him as an equal.
Slytherin and Gryffindor had Flying Class together again. Sparks were inevitable.
Madam Hooch, the Flying Class instructor, strode briskly over. Her gray-white hair and hooked nose made her look just like an owl.
"There's a broom beside each of you. Put your hand over it and say 'Up,' and the broom will come to your hand. Remember to say it with feeling."
At Madam Hooch's command, a chorus of strange-sounding "Up!"s echoed across the grounds.
Saying it with feeling doesn't mean using a weird voice!
"Up!"
Harry gave a soft command, and his broom flew straight into his hand, as obedient as a pet.
Well, the protagonist is the protagonist. Nobody else can match that talent.
Hermione, for instance, was brilliant at studying, but the broom didn't seem inclined to respect her academic prowess.
"Up, up, up..."
Eli watched Hermione strain so hard her whole face seemed to be working. She was practically singing the word by now, but the broom refused to budge.
Hey, let helpful old Eli give you a hand!
With a thought, Eli used his magic to tug Hermione's broom up and into her hand.
Hermione thought she had done it herself and proudly raised her little chin again, her honor as a top student intact.
Oh, and Ron doesn't seem to have managed it either. Should I help him too?
Eli tried the same trick, ready to send Ron's broom into his hand.
But just as he used his magic, the broom seemed to answer Ron's call and rose on its own.
Eli was caught off guard. His magic combined with the broom's own force, making it fly far too fast for Ron to catch.
Thwack!
A sharp sound rang across the grounds.
"Ah... my head..."
Eli looked away sheepishly and pretended nothing had happened.
Luckily, Ron was fine apart from a small bump.
Eli gave a gentle beckon, and his broom flew into his hand.
"Whoa, nice one!"
A Slytherin beside him sounded impressed.
"Oh, it was nothing. Child's play."
Was I proud? Was I feeling smug?
There was no real trick to it. It mainly came down to willpower—in other words, the soul.
People with strong wills generally had stronger souls and tended to take well to sports, though it wasn't an absolute rule.
So this method didn't really prove how talented someone was.
After a great deal of shouting, nearly everyone had a broom in hand.
Madam Hooch nodded in satisfaction. At least no one in this year's class had picked one up by hand.
"Good. I'll count to three. When I blow my whistle, push off gently, try to circle once, then return to where you started. Now, one, two..."
Before she reached three, one unfortunate boy was already in the air.
"Mr. Longbottom! Come down!"
Clearly, Neville couldn't control it. He was terrified and could only cling to the broom to keep from falling.
"Mr. Longbottom! Longbottom—"
"Ah..."
With a cry, Neville shot off on the broom.
The young wizards watched his flight anxiously. Only Draco and his lackeys seemed to enjoy the sight.
Eli already had his Wand in hand. The instructor's reaction time was a real disappointment—she hadn't even stopped Neville from taking off.
Neville must be scared out of his mind by now!
The runaway broom sent him through several death-defying rolls in midair. Luckily, he held on tight.
Otherwise, it would have thrown him off, and the fall would have killed him.
"Oh, there he is!"
Everyone rushed over. Neville was dangling from the tip of a rooftop statue.
His clothes tore with a loud rip, already straining under his weight.
"Oh!"
Neville suddenly fell. Some of the young wizards below covered their mouths in fright.
"Stop!"
Madam Hooch swept her Wand forward, but failed to make him float.
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
Eli's firm voice rang out.
He held out his Wand and pointed it at the falling Neville.
A surge of magic caught Neville while he was still screaming.
As Eli lowered his Wand, Neville settled gently onto the ground.
Madam Hooch hurried forward to check on him.
The young wizards around them stared in amazement as Eli calmly put away his Wand.
Weren't they all first-years? How did he know that spell?
Professor, teach me that one!
The Gryffindor students looked at Eli in awe. That had been incredibly cool!
Just look at him with one hand in his pocket. What a sight!
Harry and Ron's eyes practically sparkled. I want to look that cool someday too!
The Slytherins gave him admiring looks as well. Only Draco looked disappointed that there had been no disaster to watch—and a little... annoyed?
"I'm taking Mr. Longbottom to the Hospital Wing. He has a few scrapes. I don't want to see a single one of you in the air when I return, or you'll be out of my class before you hear the words 'Quidditch'!"
Supporting Neville, she came over to Eli.
"Mr. Hall showed excellent spellcasting. Ten House Points to Slytherin!"
After Madam Hooch left, Draco picked up a ball.
It was Neville's Remembrall.
He meant to hide it, but Harry stepped forward to stop him.
Draco flew into the air, and Harry, on a broom for the first time, refused to back down. Hermione couldn't dissuade him.
Eli made no move to stop them. It was precisely because of Draco's prank that Professor McGonagall would see Harry's extraordinary talent for flying.
Harry would become the youngest Seeker!
"That's enough, Draco. You don't need to keep picking on him."
Eli couldn't stand watching anymore. After Harry got the ball back, he tried to reason with Draco.
Already humiliated in front of everyone, Draco snapped at Eli's words.
Broom in hand, he glared at Eli with open disgust. "What did you say? How can you, a Slytherin, keep siding with those stupid Gryffindors? You're a disgrace to Slytherin!"
His lackeys echoed him, and the other Slytherins nodded as if they agreed.
Many of them disliked how close Eli had grown to the Gryffindors.
To Slytherin, Gryffindors were nothing but reckless, stupid fools.
"Shut up, Malfoy!"
Ron immediately stepped forward and spat the words at Draco. The other Gryffindors crowded in too.
It was classic Gryffindor: the moment tempers flared, they were ready for a fight.
Besides, those Slytherins had insulted not only their friend but their entire house.
No Gryffindor could let that slide!
The tension between the two groups kept rising. A full-blown clash between the houses seemed moments away.
If a fight broke out, it would be enormous news.
A brawl between two houses was rare even in the school's history.
Then a quiet voice cut through the standoff.
Eli toyed with his pale Wand, looking utterly unconcerned.
"I appreciate the support, everyone, but I'll settle today's matter myself. I'm enough on my own."
The Slytherins erupted.
The nerve of him!
"Are you looking down on me, Theodore Nott?"
Eli gave a soft laugh, his expression turning a little cold.
He really was angry now. Being friendly didn't mean he had to put up with insults again and again.
"I'm not singling you out. I'm saying... every last one of you is trash!"
The crowd erupted!
The Slytherins were stunned. This was arrogance beyond belief!
Eli looked at Draco Malfoy and pointed his wand at him. "I think I need to teach someone who dares to speak so rudely a lesson."
Draco Malfoy backed away in alarm. When had anyone ever pointed a wand at him?
"If you try anything, I'll tell my father!"
Eli scoffed. "Then perhaps, as your father, I should teach you how to settle things the wizard way!"
Several Slytherins had already raised their wands, ready to attack.
Eli swung his wand hard. A powerful burst of magic erupted from it, forcing the Slytherins back several steps.
The Gryffindors stared, dumbfounded.
Eli had not used a spell. He had simply wielded his magic.
The Slytherins' faces darkened. They had the advantage in numbers, yet they had not lasted a single move.
The shrewd Slytherins began to reconsider. Was there really any need to take on someone so terrifying?
"I don't think we need to do this at all!"
The speaker was a Slytherin.
At his words, the other Slytherins quickly agreed.
Just like that, their united front fell apart.
Draco Malfoy's face had gone especially pale. He thought he might die.
He could call his father to deal with this, but if he pushed Eli too far, would he survive until his father arrived?
He bitterly regretted opening his mouth, especially to the one person he should never have provoked.
"Eli, let it go! If this keeps up, the professors will notice!"
Hermione Granger grabbed his arm.
Harry and Ron Weasley came over to talk him down too. Neither had expected Eli to be this fierce.
A group fight was one thing, but if Eli fought them alone, he could end up expelled!
Eli looked coolly at Draco Malfoy, whose face had changed color yet again. "Do you know how to watch your mouth now?"
Draco Malfoy nodded, trembling.
"What are you doing?"
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