Harry Potter And The Lord Of Darkness - Chapter 8

“Look at the stars, observe their movements and revel in their glory-”

Arty flipped a page.

“There are an assortment of plants in the world. Some will heal, others will harm-”

Arth took out another book.

“I am your charms teacher-”

Arth scribbled something in his book before flipping the page.

“Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned-”

Arth put the book back into his bag before taking out another one.

Before he could start reading, someone took his book. Arth frowned. “Can you give me my book back?”

Daphne stared at Arth with a disbelieving gaze.

“. . . . Are you not going to pay attention during class?”

Arth tilted his head. “But I was paying attention?”

“While reading during all of your classes? I don’t think so. What are you going to do if you fail all your classes?”

Arth rolled his eyes. “I won’t fail and I am listening.”

Daphne scoffed. “Imagine if you got caught by Professor McGonagall? You would’ve been murdered. . . . How did you manage to read in her class without getting spotted?”

Arth shrugged. “I don’t really know either.”

“Hmmm,” Daphne with a suspicious look, “All right, then. Keep your secrets. What class do we have next?”

“Double block potions,” replied Arth.

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.

Snape started the class by taking roll and paused at Harry’s name.

“Ah, Yes,” he said softly, “Harry Potter. Our new celebrity.”

Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. Daphne poked Arth in the side before mouthing out “drama”. Arth just rolled his eyes and took out a book.

“You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making,” Snape quietly muttered. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word. Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without 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- if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.”

More silence followed this little speech and Arth flipped the page.

“Potter!” said Snape suddenly. “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

“I don’t know, sit,” said Harry.

Snape’s lips curled into a sneer, “Tut tut, fame clearly isn’t everything. Let’s try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Thought you wouldn’t open a book before coming, eh, Potter? What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?”

“I don’t know,” said Harry quietly. “I think Hermione does, though, why don’t you try her?”

A few people laughed. Daphne covered her mouth in excitement as if she were expecting something interesting to happen.

“Sit down silly girl,” Snape snapped at Hermione. “For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren’t you all copying that down?”

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment.

“A point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter. I despise a lot of things when teaching. The arrogant belief of some students who think of themselves superior to the teachers and-” Snape’s nose flared as his eyes met a particular scene, “-when students believe that reading a book is of greater importance- THAN LISTENING TO THE TEACHER!”

Snape snatches Arth’s book out from his hand. Before slamming it down in the table.

“What is your name, student? I am absolutely sure that you are not a Slytherin, so a Gryffindor maybe? Hufflepuff? Ravenclaw? Answer me!”

There was a deadly silence as Arth stared at Snape. “Arthur Kingscrown, Ravenclaw. You called my name when you were doing roll call.”

“Do you think it is funny, Mr. Kingscrown, to read during my class? Are my classes that irresistibly dull for you?”

Arth shook his head. “I was paying attention-”

“Silence, not another word will come out of your mouth! Ten points from Ravenclaw. It will be detention the next time this happens, do you understand?”

“. . . . Yes sir.”

After they had finished taking notes, Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like.

While Snape praised Malfoy, Arth added the finishing touches to his potion. Arth sat down and took out another book.

Almost as fast as a hawk spotting its prey, Snape came over and snatched his book.

“I was under the impression that you were warned what would happen if you opened another book in my class.”

Arth frowned, “. . . . It’s my potions textbook though?”

“. . . .”

Professor Snape went quiet as he checked the cover of the textbook in his hand. It was indeed the potions textbook.

The entire class was plunged into silence until Neville’s potion exploded.