10 Potion Class - Part 1

Friday came, and today, at breakfast, as usual, various owls came with letters or newspapers full of news about what was happening in the magical world. One of the most popular newspapers is The Daily Prophet, a wizarding newspaper based in London, England, and was the main source of news for British and Irish wizards, as far as I could gather from Theo's explanation...

On this particular day, I, Arthur Severus Belmont-Prince, found myself thrust uncomfortably into the harsh spotlight of the wizarding world the subject of news detailing my recent entry into the magical scene., from what I could understand, apparently far too many people have too much free time...The headlines felt like a blast-ended skrewt invasion, leaving me exhausted and itching for a story that wasn't all about me, After flipping through a few pages, I stumbled upon something wild – an article detailing a heist pulled off in a goblin-packed bank. My aunt's words echoed in my mind; only a madman would attempt such a feat. I couldn't help but hope they'd catch him soon.

After breakfast, we started with double potions, I shared this class with Gryffindors, and I was quite pleased, I had the opportunity to sit next to Elias, this is one of the few classes I share with him...

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons, not far off from where the entrance to the Slytherin house was. It was much colder in the classroom and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.

Professor Slughorn, like Professor Flitwick, started the class by roll call, and like Professor Flitwick, he paused at my name...

"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Arthur Prince Our new—celebrity."

Many of the Gryffindors including began to snigger loudly behind their hands.

I looked at the redhead behind me, he was sitting next to the one with the weird glasses. both were the loudest in the group...sometimes I wonder what I did wrong to deserve this...

"Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter five points from each of you from Gryffindor," Professor Slughorn said with a harsh tone.

The one with the strange glasses remained silent., too bad the redhead wasn't smart enough to understand when to stop.

"What! What for?!" The redhead yelled. Several Slytherins sniggered, a group that unsurprisingly included Malfoy.

"Another five points for your disrespect."

The Redhead, Ron Weasley scowled at me, as if I was to blame for his idiocy...

The Potions Professor continued calling roll in his same drawling tone without interruption. Once he had finished, he stepped to the front of his desk.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," Professor Slughorn began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word—like Professor McGonagall, Professor Slughorn had the gift of keeping a class silent without much effort, "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death—and for those who have talent, you will have the opportunity to receive special education, at the parties that I organize, there you will have many possibilities, but that is for a later date."

never realized Professor Slughorn was so poetic. More silence followed the professor's inflexible words. I didn't expect him to be so serious when it comes to potions, it's like he's a different person...from the cheerful person I thought I knew...

"Now who can tell "what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" he asked, "Which of you, has actually read the book?" he said in a cheerful voice

Some Slytherin actually raised their hands, but from the Gryffindor's side, only two hands were raised, these being Elias' and Hermione's...both of them looked at each other as if there was a fight between them, it seems to be a problem of theirs.

Professor Slughorn then turned and looked straight at me. I stared back, with the most tranquil of expressions. "Mister Prince?" he said smiling

"Asphodel and wormwood create a sleeping potion so powerful that it is called the Draught of Living Death."

He nodded, and his eyes sparkled as if he had won a prize.

"Let's try again. Prince, where would you look if I told you to find a bezoar?" Professor Slughorn said, in a tone as if he were testing me,

"The bezoar's a natural remedy against poisoning of all kinds, it can be found in the stomach of a goat" I answered, in the same tone as his.

his smile turned into a laugh, it seems that I passed his test

"Very good, ten points to Slytherin," Professor Slughorn said, "Well? Why aren't you all copying this down?"

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment.

The rest of the period went well. Although Professor Slughorn acting as head of the house had no favorites, as a potions teacher he clearly favored the gifted.

For many Gryffindors, this was the first time they tried to create a potion, and because of this

The classroom environment felt absolutely stifling, a small mistake could affect the potion and a big mistake could have just as big consequences. while we all tried to create a cure for boils using powdered snake fangs, horned slugs, and porcupine quills.

one of the big mistakes he made

The kid who lost his frog on the train, Neville Longbottom blew up his cauldron. The potion swept across the floor, making holes through people's shoes. Soon everyone was carefully perched on their chairs to get away from him. Poor Neville groaned in pain as boils broke out over him.

Professor Slughorn quickly cleared the potion from the room with a swipe of his wand. The Potions professor said in a calm voice as if there was nothing new."I supposed you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered uselessly.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Professor Slughorn said to Neville's Potions partner.

"Enough of wasting time," Professor Slughorn said curtly, "with the remaining time we will now practice scrubbing the cauldrons to perfection, a much-needed skill"

I had to give it to him, this time I was surprised by the way he taught us how to make potions.

after Class I said goodbye to Elias...and since I wasn't very hungry I chose to do homework and study in the empty common room instead of attending dinner...

A week passed with an unending stream of meal times, social hours, homework, and explorations of the castle...

The next Thursday morning, I was awakened by the screams of the clocks. something that didn't happen often. I quickly changed into a set of clean robes and then carried my shampoo and soap down to the boy's communal showers, stripped, and scrubbed myself down, rinsing before drying off under an enchanted showerhead. Most of the students waved their wands over themselves with some sort of Drying Charm but not me, although I know how to do it myself, I like to have a time when I have a life without magic, I don't want to depend so much on it. I slipped my clothes back on and then brushed my teeth at the hand sink.

"What are you doing?" Theodore asked with a face full of confusion

I spat the foamy toothpaste into the sink and rinsed my mouth out.

"I'm brushing my teeth, can't you see?" I said

Theodore: "You know we have different Charms for that right?"

Arthur: "Like the sensation of brushing his teeth."

Theodore: "Does it feel so good? what do you say, can I try too?"

Arthur: "I'll see what I can do, maybe my aunt can help us with that"

Theodore: "When do you have to meet her?"

Arthur: "This Saturday"

Theodore: "Ok, I think it's time to get ready, are you ready to fly?"

Arthur: "I don't think I can be more prepared than I am now"

Afterward, I shoved my hygienic supplies into a sack and carried them back upstairs.

Today, there would be a Double lesson with Gryffindors on the art of flying broomsticks. It took up the large free period Thursday afternoons.

Dutifully surrounded by Slytherins, I trudged upstairs to the Great Hall and sat between Nott and Sally-Anne.

Come post time, There weren't too many packages, but the letters were varied in color and shape, just like the owls. I would have liked to exchange correspondence with pleasant relatives. It was a shame that he didn't have any except my aunt,my uncle and of course my mother.

my aunt is a teacher, and my uncle is in a place where he can neither send nor receive anything.

and my mother decided to disappear without telling me anything, who knows where...

"It's a Remembrall!" Neville Longbottom, the lousiest potion brewer in My Potions class, exclaimed excitedly from the Gryffindor table. The pudgy boy held up a glass ball the size of a very large marble. The rest of his voice was lost among the students, but I could see red smoke had filled the glass orb fairly quickly.

Quick as a wolf, Draco Malfoy simply plucked the Remembrall from Neville's upraised hand. Ron Weasley jumped to his feet, but their Transfigurations Professor suddenly appeared.

After Professor McGonagall had talked to the students, Malfoy negligently tossed the Remembrall toward Longbottom.

Parkinson smirked, likely because Malfoy had scowled in a sulky manner all the way back to the Slytherin table. "Why are you messing with the Gryffindor?"

"Oh shut it," Malfoy ordered, clearly not wanting to talk about it.

After breakfast, the Slytherin first years hung around in the Great Hall, knowing they'd have to go to the Hogwarts' grounds soon anyway.

Slytherin first years myself included, hurried to our 'first' flying lesson; apparently, it seems that I wasn't the only one who tried to fly until now,

among my housemates. Not that I want to brag or anything, but flying on the broom came naturally to me, probably because of my reflexes... since I was little I had good reflexes, and I understood from my mother that it comes from the family.

Today, was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they stomped down the slope toward the smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the Forbidden Forest, whose trees were swaying darkly. I could make out the half Giant's cabin not much farther down, I think his name was Hagrid if I'm not mistaken...

There were brooms already laid out, and the Slytherins took the best ones of the bunch.

Suspicious at its performance, I looked down at my broom lying still on the grass. It was old and some of the tail twigs stuck out at odd angles. Nott had picked it out for me, so it couldn't be terrible... but it certainly looked dubious.

Ten minutes later, the Gryffindors were rushing across the lawn, clearly trying not to be tardy

Then the professor, Madam Hooch, arrived very soon after, while the Gryffindors milled around chatting. She had short, grey hair and yellow eyes.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" She barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up!"

Once the Gryffindors had arranged themselves, Madam Hooch continued. "Stick out your right hand over your broom, and say 'Up!'"

"UP!" Everyone shouted.

My broom jumped right into his hand at once. I looked about and saw I was one of the few that had.

They were then taught the basics of mounting the broom, and then how to grip the handle properly. Madam Hooch walked up and down the rows correcting their holds on their broomsticks. I grinned when she told Malfoy that he'd been doing it wrong for years.

"Now, when I blow this whistle that is the signal. You will kick off gently and then hover. When I give two signals, you are to tilt backward to land. Any questions?"

Before Madam Hooch could give the signal for them to practice hovering, Neville Longbottom suddenly took off.

"Come back, boy!" She shouted, but Longbottom had shot into the sky like a cork out of a bottle. After only about half a minute, I saw the Gryffindor slide free from the broom. The black robes fluttered around him, his body helpless to the power of gravity. I couldn't believe what was happening, why didn't the teacher try to do anything...

WHAM! There'd been a nasty crack with that thud, and Longbottom lay face down on the ground in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher, lazily drifting towards the Forbidden Forest.

Having run over to check on him, Madam Hooch bent over Longbottom, her face as white as his.

"Broken wrist," I heard her mutter, "Come on, boy—it's all right, up you get."

She turned to the rest of the class, which had circled around her and Longbottom.

"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing!" She helped Longbottom up with a soothing tone, raking her yellow eyes over them. "If any of you are caught on a broom, you will be expelled without exception!"

"can I help ?" I asked.

Madam Hooch: "Of course come after me"

I tucked a supportive arm around poor accident-prone Longbottom and led him toward the castle. He hobbled off with a tear-streaked face, clutching his wrist.

"I'm sorry," he said between sobs of pain I was relieved that it wasn't more serious.

After about 10 minutes, we arrived in the Hospital Wing, Within the Hospital Wing were many rows of beds with white sheets, privacy screens, and bedpans, there I met for the first time the matron Madam Poppy Pomfrey, an Irish witch, I could tell because of her strong accent.

after taking Neville to the infirmary, the teacher and I returned to the others.

but on the way, I couldn't resist asking her,

Arthur: "Why didn't you help him?"

when she heard the question, she looked at me, I have to admit those hawk eyes can be quite terrifying if you look directly into them.

Madam Hooch:" Some students have to learn on their own, that some things should not be rushed." she said sternly

Arthur: "So you decided to make an example of him"

Madam Hooch:" I decided to take advantage of the opportunity Mr. Prince, and if he is to make a mistake at least he made it when I was there, I believe if I don't place that charm at the right time it can be even worse than Broken wrist"

Arthur: "I understand," on second thought, her eyes seem to be in a failed transformation...maybe I can ask Professor McGonagall maybe she knows more.

when we turned back, I could immediately tell that something had happened, just the look that Hermione and Elias gave me, was enough to tell me that something had happened...

the class was dismissed after, no one else flew in this lesson apart from Neville as far as I know...