"Detention" and Potions Class

Snape's office was dim and cramped, with a strange smell. Shelves lined every wall, crowded with bottles and jars containing hundreds, perhaps thousands, of potion ingredients.

Will's eyes lit up. Those ingredients were anything but cheap. Potions Master Snape was a very wealthy man; if Will could get his hands on some ingredients here, or learn directly from him, his Potions experience would soar.

Snape sat in his chair, his dead-fish eyes fixed on Will. "Using Confringo in the common room? It seems Mr. Berens has become a great wizard, capable of defeating his classmates with a casual flick of his wand. No need to waste your talents in a little place like Hogwarts. Perhaps you should put them to use at the Wizengamot?"

Will stared back without a trace of fear.

"Mr. Berens, don't look at me with those vacant eyes. If you can't explain why you attacked your classmates so viciously, I think you'll be spending Christmas here with the Flobberworm mucus."

Clearly, without a good reason, Will was in for a long detention.

Snape studied Will, waiting to see how he would explain himself. He hated students who bullied their classmates more than anything.

Will clenched his fists. Instead of defending himself, he glared into Snape's eyes, anger roughening his voice. "If you think I, a 'Mudblood,' deserve to be bullied by a little gang;

If you think I should hide behind a girl while those people insult me;

If you think wizards from the Muggle World deserve to be shunned by Pure-bloods!

Then I have nothing to say! I have nothing to explain, whether it was their insults and attacks on the first night or my defending myself today.

I only hope you won't punish Sylvia. She had nothing to do with this."

Will spoke with righteous fury, as though he truly were a pitiful student who had finally fought back against his bullies. Of course, that was exactly what he was.

His voice was heated, and he showed no sign of remorse.

Snape could tell Will didn't believe he had done anything wrong. At Will's answer, he fell silent.

Will's words had brought back old memories, painfully clear ones, of certain little gangs of Pure-blood students he had encountered at Hogwarts.

A few minutes later, Will received a notification.

[Someone empathized with you. Charisma Experience +3]

Will clearly saw Snape's face twitch several times. When he spoke again, his tone had softened considerably. "You injured your classmates. Starting tomorrow, one week of detention. Come here and help me prepare potion ingredients."

The moment Snape said that, Will knew he had made it through. Nearly everything he'd said had struck a nerve.

The Half-Blood Prince's story had not ended happily.

Besides, was preparing potion ingredients really a punishment?

That was a way to earn experience.

Will had barely stepped out of Snape's office when he saw Sylvia waiting outside.

"Professor Snape didn't do anything to you, did he?" Concern was written all over Sylvia's face.

"What would he do to me?" Will spread his hands. "Don't worry about me. It's only a week of detention. Professor Snape is a pretty decent person."

"If you hadn't clashed with Yaxley and the others, I wouldn't worry. But they're all in the Hospital Wing. You might have those Pure-blood families coming after you." Sylvia still looked troubled.

"Relax. As long as I'm at Hogwarts, they won't dare do anything to me."

At that, Sylvia looked Will up and down for a good while.

"What?" Her stare made Will a little uncomfortable.

"Nothing. I just think you're right." She seemed to genuinely relax, leaving Will rather puzzled.

On Thursday, no one bothered Will again. Defence Against the Dark Arts, however, turned out to be a disaster under Quirrell. Will found he couldn't gain even a single point of experience from the class.

In other professors' lessons, Will learned things and gained experience. Quirrell alone stammered his way through pointless readings from the textbook. Will had already read it several times, so he gained nothing.

Will suspected Quirrell might be hiding his abilities. He had asked around about him: Quirrell was known for his talent, and plenty of people knew his theoretical knowledge was solid. There was no way he should be this bad.

Even with Voldemort on his head, he shouldn't have been so hopeless that he couldn't read from a textbook properly.

Will could only find other books to read during class.

On Friday, Will arrived at the Potions Classroom early.

He curiously examined the animal specimens around the room. They were all potion ingredients. He just didn't know whose mouth they would end up in.

Snape appeared behind him without warning. "You seem very curious about these. Perhaps I should let you dissect them yourself."

"Could I? Thank you, Professor." Will looked delighted. Opportunities like this didn't come along often.

Snape's mouth twitched. He had meant to make Will uncomfortable. Not every first-year wizard could calmly dissect animal carcasses, let alone living specimens.

The boy clearly had nerve.

Will knew Snape's attempt had failed, but Snape couldn't deduct points from him for it. Will was in Slytherin, after all.

"You'll be tasting the potion you brew today, Berens. You'd better spend the time you have left reading." With that warning, Snape turned and walked to the front of the classroom.

Potions Class soon began. Snape took out the register and called the roll.

"Har-ry... Potter. Ah, our new... celebrity."

Will knew what was coming.

"Potter! What would I get if I added Asphodel Root Powder to an Infusion of Wormwood?"

Sure enough, the classic question.

"I don't know, Professor."

"Let's try again, Pot-ter. If I asked you to find me a Bezoar, where would you look?"

"Pot-ter, tell me the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane."

Naturally, Harry couldn't answer any of the three questions, which displeased Snape even more. His gaze swept the classroom, passed over Hermione's raised hand, and settled on Will beside Sylvia.

"Will Behrens, enlighten our famous Chosen One."

"Adding Asphodel Root Powder to an Infusion of Wormwood produces a Draught of Living Death. A Bezoar is generally found in a cow's stomach. And Monkshood and Wolfsbane are the same plant, both known as Aconite."

As he answered, he wondered whether to explain the deeper meaning behind the three questions. But if he did, Snape would probably kill him.

"Very good. Fame clearly isn't everything. Hard work, on the other hand, leads to knowledge. Five points to Slytherin." Snape's face twisted into a mocking smile.

They soon began Potion Brewing. Will had already made a Cure for Boils at home, so he knew exactly what to do.

As he worked, he guided Sylvia. "The Snake Fangs aren't ground finely enough. It's time to add the Slug. Remember to take the—"

"Take the Cauldron off the flame, right? I remember." Sylvia didn't let Will help. She moved the Cauldron away, added the Porcupine Quills, then stirred the potion clockwise.

As soon as the blue potion was ready, Will sensed someone approaching from behind. Snape inspected both their potions. "You're lucky, Berens. Evidently, you won't have to drink anything strange."

Then Snape announced loudly, "The first to finish the potion successfully. Five points to Slytherin."

Then disaster struck. Neville's Cauldron began spewing hissing green acidic smoke. The Cauldron warped, and potion splashed everywhere. A great spray of it flew straight toward Will...