The Cauldron and One Point

Friday afternoon of the first week brought a double Potions Class.

If Transfiguration felt like speaking face-to-face with an iceberg, and Charms like attending a brisk concert, then Potions Class—

At first glance, Gavin thought it looked like a cross between an underground laboratory and an interrogation chamber.

The classroom was in the castle's lower levels, on the same floor as the Hufflepuff Common Room.

The closer they got to the Potions Classroom, the colder the air became and the damper the stone walls grew. When the heavy door at the end of the corridor swung open, a smell of dried grass, medicinal herbs, metal, smoke, and something faintly bitter rushed out. It was as if someone had stuffed an entire medicine cabinet and half a specimen room into a great pot and simmered them for a dozen years.

The room was much darker than an ordinary classroom.

Glass jars crowded the shelves around the walls, each holding something of a bizarre color. Some things had tentacles, some resembled organs, and some looked designed purely to discourage beginners. The ceiling was low, and torchlight fell across copper cauldrons and black tabletops, giving the whole room a gloomy cast.

Justin stopped in the doorway.

"I'm beginning to think," he said quietly, "Hogwarts has a different idea of 'inspiring students' curiosity' from the schools I've known."

"Definitely," Gavin agreed. "Eton probably doesn't hang pickled spleens on the walls."

"How do you know that's a spleen?"

"Guesswork."

Ernie had already composed his expression and stood straight with his textbook in his arms.

"In any case," he said solemnly, "this is Professor Snape's class. We'd better look serious."

He wasn't wrong.

The problem was that the classroom was already serious enough without their help. Even the Ravenclaw first-years grew noticeably quieter after coming in, each bending over a textbook as though trying to disguise themselves as the sort of student unlikely to make mistakes before the professor appeared.

Gavin took a seat near the front and laid out his textbook, parchment, and quill.

The copper cauldron on the desk was polished bright.

He glanced down and could dimly see the face of his current eleven-year-old self reflected in it.

The experimental conditions are nothing special, he thought.

Professor Snape appeared almost as soon as the bell rang.

No one heard him come in.

By the time the students in the front row noticed anything, he was already standing beside the lectern, his black robes hanging around him like a great bat that carried its own shadow. His face was sallow, his nose sharply hooked, and as his black eyes swept slowly across the classroom, the room seemed to grow several degrees colder.

He said nothing.

But the last faint sounds in the classroom vanished at once.

Gavin looked up at him and suddenly thought the professor had something in common with Professor McGonagall.

Both were remarkably good at making students understand, without a word, that they should keep quiet.

The difference was that Professor McGonagall made you think of rules. Professor Snape made you think of consequences.

He stood before the lectern with his hands clasped, his voice low and smooth as a freshly brewed Poisonous Potion.

"You have come here to learn the precise science and exacting craft of brewing potions."

No one in the classroom dared move.

Even the quills seemed to be holding their breath.

"Here, you will not wave your wand and expect a miracle, as you might in certain other classes." The corner of his mouth twitched. It looked less like a smile than an expression of blanket distrust toward the students. "If any of you still imagine Potions Class is simply a matter of throwing ingredients into a cauldron and boiling them, I suggest you abandon that childish notion now."

That opening was even less welcoming than Professor McGonagall's.

The difference was that Professor McGonagall warned you not to make mistakes. Snape seemed to assume you would, sooner or later, and was merely waiting to see how badly.

Justin sat a little straighter.

Ernie was already sitting as straight as he possibly could.

Snape went on, his tone calm but carrying a cutting pressure.

"Potions can cloud the mind and dull the senses."

"They can bottle glory and put death to sleep."

"They can also—"

His gaze moved slowly across the first-years in the front row, and his voice grew softer.

"Teach fools to keep their mouths shut while there is still time."

The remark was clearly not aimed at anyone in particular.

The whole class fell even quieter anyway.

As Gavin listened, he made an objective assessment:

Professor Snape clearly hasn't read Introduction to Encouragement-Based Education.

Still, the opening was effective.

Within a minute, it had given the entire classroom a remarkably unified will to survive.

Snape's tone barely changed as he took attendance.

When he read the Ravenclaw names, he sounded as if he were checking a row of materials awaiting processing. He showed no greater warmth toward the Hufflepuffs. When he reached "Gu, Gavin," his gaze paused for an instant between the list and Gavin's face.

It was brief.

So brief it might almost have been imagined.

Then he continued down the list.

Gavin noticed, but thought little of it.

Hogwarts professors always had their own sources of information. Besides, he had attracted a little attention in his first two classes. It was hardly surprising if someone remembered him.

What truly interested him was the subject itself.

Potions was unlike Charms or Transfiguration.

It was slower and demanded greater attention to procedure. The order of ingredients, the heat, the direction of stirring, the timing, the dosage—almost nothing could be done carelessly. In some ways, it was closer to a real "experimental science" than spellcasting was, wizard-style science though it might be.

That put Gavin in a good mood.

He was generally happy to give anything involving procedures and variables a closer look.

"Today," Snape said at last, setting down the list, "you will brew one of the most basic potions: the Cure for Boils."

Pages rustled softly around the classroom.

Naturally, their first Potions Class would not have them brew anything that could bottle glory. The Cure for Boils sounded merciful enough.

But in Professor Snape's classroom, even the kindest recipe acquired a distinctly ominous air.

He explained the ingredients and steps concisely, his words as precise as knives.

"If you cannot tell when to add the porcupine quills—"

He paused, his gaze sweeping the front row.

"I suggest you at least learn that the Hospital Wing and the Great Hall are not on the same floor."

No one laughed.

Even the boldest students did not dare test the professor's tolerance for humor just then.

Professor Snape waved his wand, and clear instructions appeared on the blackboard.

[Place dried nettles in the cauldron.]

[Grind snake fangs into a fine powder and add them.]

[Heat.]

[Remove from heat, then add porcupine quills.]

Gavin glanced over them and ran through the process in his head.

The order is key.

They paired up naturally with whoever sat beside them.

Gavin worked with Ernie, while Justin partnered with another Hufflepuff boy. Across from them, the Ravenclaw students had already begun quietly preparing their ingredients. Most worked faster than the Hufflepuffs, and several had clearly read ahead at home.

Ernie rolled up his sleeves, looking as solemn as if he were about to take part in a family ritual.

"We need to be careful."

"I agree." Gavin tipped the snake fangs into a mortar. "But staring at the nettles won't make them chop themselves."

Ernie promptly lowered his head and got to work.

They worked together fairly well.

Ernie had steady hands and followed instructions. He was not especially efficient, but at least he did nothing reckless. Gavin moved faster, preparing ingredients while watching the liquid in the cauldron change color. Around the classroom rose the sounds of grinding and stirring, and the faint lick of flames beneath cauldrons.

The class remained extraordinarily quiet.

Professor Snape was patrolling the room.

Whenever his black robes swept between the desks, the students instinctively softened their movements. No one wanted to be the first unlucky soul singled out for failing to control even the fineness of their snake-fang powder.

Gavin was watching the liquid in his cauldron turn pale purple when Snape's voice came from behind him.

"If you intend to boil it into paste, Mr. Gu, by all means continue watching instead of stirring."

Without looking up, Gavin immediately began stirring clockwise.

"Thank you for the reminder, Professor."

Snape stopped behind him for two seconds.

"Do you at least know what you are looking at?"

"The changes in color and viscosity, Professor," Gavin answered. "The snake-fang powder has begun to blend in fully. If we stir too quickly now, the surface will foam, making it less stable when we add the porcupine quills."

Ernie's hand froze around the stirring rod.

That sounded less like a first-year answering a question and more like someone drawing on the experience of three failed attempts.

Snape did not speak at once.

He looked down at the cauldron, then at the prepared ingredients on the desk. His voice betrayed no emotion.

"At least you are not relying on luck."

"Luck doesn't belong in an experimental class, Professor."

At that, Justin lowered his head even farther, apparently trying not to show that he was wondering how Gavin dared answer back to everything.

Snape's gaze lingered on Gavin's face a moment longer.

Then he left without another word.

Things were clearly going less well for Justin.

"It's starting to bubble," Justin said, a note of panic in his voice. "Is it supposed to bubble yet?"

Gavin turned to look.

"No."

"Then—"

"Congratulations. You're ahead of the lesson."

Justin went pale. "What do I do now?"

Gavin looked at the liquid, which was plainly heading in the wrong direction, and made a quick decision. "Step away from it first."

The next second, the cauldron spat out a burst of thick green foam with a pfft. It was not quite an explosion, but the mess was bad enough. Several nearby students recoiled together.

Snape was at their desk almost immediately.

He moved so quickly he seemed less to walk than to glide over like a shadow.

"Finch-Fletchley." He looked down at the cauldron, his voice dangerously soft. "It seems your understanding of Potions consists chiefly of turning a perfectly normal brew into a swamp."

Justin's ears turned red.

"Five points from Hufflepuff."

With a wave of his hand, Snape vanished the cauldron, leaving Justin and his partner dejected.

Gavin's potion had reached its most critical stage.

Remove it from the heat.

Add the porcupine quills.

Control the reaction.

Gavin did not rush. He checked the flame first, then the surface of the potion. Only when the last ripple at the bottom had settled did he signal Ernie to turn off the heat.

"Now."

The porcupine quills fell in. A ring of tiny bubbles immediately formed on the surface, but the potion neither burst nor blackened. It slowly turned a healthy pink, smooth in texture and faintly glossy.

Success.

At least by appearances, it was quite a success.

Ernie looked at the cauldron and let out a quiet breath.

"That looks good."

"It does," Gavin agreed wholeheartedly. "At least it doesn't look like it'll send anyone to the Hospital Wing."

Not far away, another Ravenclaw pair's potion had turned grayish; they had clearly heated it a little too long. Farther off, a Hufflepuff first-year had somehow added the porcupine quills early. His cauldron was making an ominous sizzling noise, as though preparing for an undignified end.

Professor Snape crossed over in a few strides and stopped the failed brew from erupting with one wave of his wand. He took five points as well, his tone cold enough to ensure the student would remember "add porcupine quills only after removing from heat" until graduation.

Against that vivid contrast, Gavin's cauldron looked all the better.

Snape returned to their desk and examined the finished potion.

"Acceptable color," he judged.

Then he said, very briefly:

"One point to Hufflepuff."

The classroom went still for a beat.

It was not that no one had heard him.

Quite the opposite. They had all heard him, and that was why they fell silent.

Justin looked up almost at once, then quickly lowered his head again, as if afraid Snape might catch him. Ernie visibly perked up. He tried to maintain his dignity, but the shock of Professor Snape awarding Hufflepuff a point was enough to make him recount the whole thing three times in the common room that night.

Several Ravenclaw students across from them looked up too.

His expression was strange.

As though he had heard his own cat suddenly start speaking human language.

Gavin was a little surprised himself, but he did not show it. He simply replied politely:

"Thank you, Professor."

Snape paid him no further attention. His black robes swirled as he turned and walked toward another group.

After that, though, Ernie was noticeably more alert as he stirred the potion.

"Gu," he said quietly, his tone carrying a solemnity he was struggling to restrain, "I think we might need to take things more seriously from now on."

"I thought we were already serious enough."

"It's different now."

"How?"

"We just earned a point from Professor Snape."

Gavin glanced at him. Ernie's expression reminded him very much of someone from a pure-blood family seeing an ancestral portrait on the wall of their ancestral home nod at them for the first time.

"All right," Gavin said calmly.

For the rest of the lesson, Snape offered no further praise and awarded no more points. His deductions, on the other hand, were remarkably consistent—so consistent they seemed like routine maintenance. A Ravenclaw student let his attention wander while grinding snake fangs and spilled a little powder on the table, costing him one point; someone on the Hufflepuff side stirred in the wrong direction, immediately turning the potion the wrong color and losing another two.

In this classroom ecosystem, Gavin increasingly felt that the point from earlier really deserved to go on the record.

When the bell rang, a collective sigh of relief, faint but deeply sincere, was almost audible throughout the classroom.

The students began packing up, generally moving even more quietly than when they had entered, as though instinctively trying to make themselves less noticeable so they could evacuate the Dungeon Classroom safely.

Snape stood at the front, watching them finish with a cold gaze.

"Before the next lesson, memorize the basic ingredient identification chart. I do not wish to see anyone confuse daisy roots with ginger roots again. It would make me question whether, before coming here, you had spent your lives relying on other people to do your seeing for you."

Those were his final words before dismissing them.

After they left the classroom, Justin walked with them in silence for a while. Only after they had rounded two corners and thoroughly escaped the range of the Dungeon Classroom's unsettling smells did he finally speak in a low voice:

"Did that really happen?"

Ernie answered at once. "Of course it did."

"No, I mean—" Justin turned to Gavin. "Professor Snape actually gave you a point?"

"He gave Hufflepuff a point," Gavin corrected.

"That's not the point."

"It is to me."

Ernie was clearly still feeling the aftershocks of that single point. Even his tone was more solemn than usual.

"Regardless, this is certainly something worth recording."

"You make it sound like an event in school history," Justin said.

"Considering who awarded the point, it practically is."

That was a perfectly fair assessment.

Gavin did not respond. He simply lowered his head and leafed through his Potions textbook.

Rather than the matter of "Snape giving Hufflepuff a point," he was more interested in something else—

Potions was more interesting than he had expected.

It was not simply a matter of following the textbook.

Sequence mattered, heat mattered, changes mattered, and mistakes were not tolerated.

From that perspective, Snape really was well suited to teaching the subject.

Even if the way he expressed his personal charm was a little macabre.

Beside him, Ernie was still adding:

"I think everyone will be delighted to hear about this when we get back to the common room tonight."

"About what?" Gavin asked.

"You earning a point for Hufflepuff."

"It was only one point."

"From Professor Snape."

"..."

All right.

That really couldn't be counted as an ordinary point.

Justin glanced at Gavin and suddenly smiled.

"Gu."

"Yes?"

"I'm starting to think you really might be a good fit for Hogwarts."

"Just because I successfully brewed a Cure for Boils?"

"No." Justin shook his head. "Because in every class, you manage to make things a little absurd, but in a way that makes perfect sense."

Gavin thought about it. Although the assessment did not seem entirely flattering, he found it broadly acceptable.

So he nodded.

"Thank you."

Above their heads, the corridors of Hogwarts Castle still stretched on in silence, the wind barely audible beyond the stone walls. The new term had only just begun, and the professors, lessons, spells, potions, and secrets still hidden deep within the castle had all barely begun to unfold.