On Thursday, Cyrus finally got his chance at Harry's Potions class.
The Potions Classroom was very dark. It was underground to begin with, and Snape shut every window tight whenever he came in. Without the few torches in the room, they might not have been able to see anything at all.
Still, this could not be blamed on Snape's dark nature-though he certainly had one. Most potions could not be exposed to bright light, which would usually ruin them.
Wearing the Invisibility Cloak, Cyrus followed slowly behind Harry and entered with the crowd.
When Harry threaded his way through the tightly packed tables and reached his own cauldron, Cyrus kept going until he reached a corner of the teaching platform. There was a wooden door there, with Snape's office behind it.
Snape swept in, his wizard's robes billowing like the leathery wings of an enormous bat. After entering the classroom, he swept a sharp gaze over the students, then let it linger on Harry for several seconds. Only after giving a derisive chuckle did he speak.
"Today-we will be brewing the Swelling Solution-"
"I hope every one of you has a functioning brain capable of understanding the steps in your textbooks. The potion must be neither too concentrated nor too dilute, or else-" He gave a cold laugh, looking at the young Gryffindors. His gaze lingered particularly long on Neville, Seamus, and Harry. "If there is an accident, whether you receive any Swelling Solution will depend on whether I feel like giving it to you!"
Harry's talent for potions was not actually bad. The problem was that Neville and Seamus were at the table immediately to his right.
With those two geniuses together, a Potions class without an accident would have been newsworthy. Whenever Neville got flustered, Harry inevitably suffered too. Even if he did not, Snape could still use Neville's poor performance as an excuse to dock Harry points.
You're sitting so close to him. Why aren't you helping Neville?
Not a trace of friendship or solidarity. Ten points from Gryffindor!
How dare you help Neville? Do you think you're so good at brewing potions?
Ten points from Gryffindor!
Snape's words caused considerable resentment. He might as well have named Gryffindor outright and said he would not treat them, but nobody dared say anything. Only the little Slytherin snakes, basking in their Head of House's favoritism, snickered among themselves.
In the end, Snape broke the silence himself.
"Now, why have you not started?"
Neville immediately began fumbling about in a panic.
"What should I add first?" His round face flushed bright red, and both hands trembled incessantly as he held the ingredients.
"You should grind the herbs into powder first. It says so in the book," Harry whispered. He regretted it immediately, though. If he had kept quiet, causing a commotion might have been easier.
Snape immediately snapped, "No whispering!"
Then he strode toward Neville's table. Already flustered and nervous, Neville now went completely blank. Cyrus even wondered whether he had forgotten what the English words "herbs" and "grind into powder" meant.
Now that Snape had begun picking on Neville, Cyrus simply raised his wand and shot a spark into Crabbe's cauldron.
Crabbe's potion exploded, showering the whole class from head to toe. Everyone shrieked as the splashing Swelling Solution struck them. Malfoy caught a faceful, and his nose swelled like a balloon. Crabbe covered his eyes with his hands and staggered blindly about, his eyes swollen to the size of dinner plates.
The classroom erupted into chaos, with agonized cries coming one after another. Snape roared, "Silence! Silence!"
For a moment, Cyrus thought he had been exposed.
Only when he looked up did he discover that Snape's venomous gaze was fixed on Harry and his friends.
Clearly, Snape suspected them. Reassured, Cyrus headed for Snape's office. As he passed Malfoy, he casually plucked a few hairs from his head. Malfoy screamed even more shrilly.
"Anyone splashed by the potion, come to me for some Swelling Solution. Once I find out who did this..."
Cyrus did not hear the rest. He had already slipped into Snape's office.
"Bicorn horn, African Tree Snake skin-" He raised his wand, and its tip lit up. By its faint light, Cyrus could see jars and bottles covering an entire wall.
"Snape really does have plenty of good stuff."
Cyrus helped himself without hesitation. Besides those two ingredients, he took anything else that might prove useful. Most were ingredients that could replenish a person's life energy. He was not remotely worried about Snape discovering the theft. Even if he did, what could he do?
Without knowing who the real thief was, all Snape could do was report it to Dumbledore. But Dumbledore already knew about "him," or rather, knew that a specter of Voldemort was causing trouble. He simply had yet to determine whether the one orchestrating everything was Voldemort himself, one of his Horcruxes, or merely an evil spell or enchanted object.
Whatever the case, he had chosen to wait and watch, leaving the fight to the seemingly fated enemy Voldemort himself had personally selected.
A miracle had happened eleven years ago, and Harry Potter had also driven Voldemort back last term. However weak Voldemort had been at the time, he was still not someone a first-year wizard could possibly have faced. Yet it had ended with Quirrell's death.
Given that, Dumbledore believed Harry Potter might be able to thwart Voldemort's plot once again.
Besides, Quirrell's miserable condition last term made it clear that even possession alone by Tom Riddle drained a person's life. Without replenishing some of that energy, Ginny Weasley's life would be in danger.
Although Dumbledore was in no hurry to stop Cyrus, he would not want to see an innocent young witch actually die.
It was precisely this that Cyrus exploited, allowing him to take Snape's potions so brazenly.
By the time he put the potions away and quietly slipped out of the office, Snape had applied Swelling Solution to every student injured by the Swelling Solution. He was now standing before Crabbe's cauldron, his head bowed in thought.
"Hmph, a feeble spark-" His sinister gaze swept over all the young witches and wizards before finally settling on Harry and his friends.
"A clever little trick! Using a spell was your undoing!"
"Harry Pot-ter, why don't you take out your wand and let me check what spells you've cast?"
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