"If any of you think the Potions classroom is a place to play games and fool around, then you're one step closer to death." Professor Snape's voice slid through the air, silky and cold, every word deliberate.
Wilson, Jimmy, and the others, still catching their breath from running, froze at once, cowed by Snape's icy warning.
Qin Yu, however, met his gaze calmly and replied with genuine respect, "Thank you for the warning, Professor Snape. We'll be more careful from now on."
He turned to the others, explaining, "There are lots of dangerous tools and brews in Potions. The professor just wants us to stay safe."
At his words, the children's eyes widened in sudden understanding. Grateful, they echoed Qin Yu's thanks, their voices earnest.
For a brief moment, Snape looked almost startled.
He was used to his good intentions being mistaken for curses—his sharp tongue and prickly nature saw to that. He'd never expected anyone to respond with gratitude, let alone a chorus of it from a group of first-years.
If Qin Yu had Legilimency, he might have laughed and thought, "Honestly, Snape, are you a bit of a glutton for punishment?"
"Since you're all aware of the dangers, I expect to see no missing limbs in my class," Snape continued, his sarcasm undiminished.
The bell rang. The children hurried to their seats.
…
"Many believe Potions isn't real magic, simply because you don't use your wands. Let me tell you, that is a grave mistake. Others think brewing potions is just a matter of heating things in a cauldron—another foolish, rigid notion. Every ingredient requires a different preparation—some must be pressed, some soaked, some fired, and some need a bit of creative thinking to discover the best method…" Snape lectured, his tone slow and measured.
Qin Yu listened, realizing just how intricate Potions really was.
Truth be told, he'd been one of those who thought potions just meant tossing things into a cauldron and heating them up.
But as Snape's explanations unfolded, clear and precise, Qin Yu found himself unexpectedly drawn in. It was a new way of seeing the magical world.
"Qin, tell me: which part of the milk thistle is used in potions?" Professor Snape called on him suddenly.
Oh, come on—why me? I was paying attention! Qin Yu groaned inwardly.
The truth was, he had no idea. He'd bought his textbooks and immediately boarded the train—there'd been no time to study obscure herbs like milk thistle.
If only he'd been asked about bezoars—at least he knew those were for poison antidotes.
"Leaves?" Qin Yu ventured, bracing himself.
"Most plants are indeed used for their leaves, roots, or stems. You've chosen a statistically likely answer," Snape replied, a faint sneer curling his lips. "Incorrect."
He swept his gaze around the room. "Does anyone know?"
No one dared to meet his eyes. Every head ducked low.
Qin Yu thought wryly, Well, it's official—there's no Hermione Granger in this class.
"The fruit," Snape announced at last, his voice rising. "Write it down!"
Pens scratched frantically as everyone took notes.
"Potions demand precision—a single drop too many or too few can make all the difference. And you, Mr. Qin, chose to guess rather than apply yourself. That's called being careless with this subject. Therefore…" Snape fixed him with a cold stare. "Gryffindor, minus one point! Let this serve as a reminder of the attitude you should bring to Potions."
"…," Qin Yu thought.
How did I end up as the first one to lose points, just like that?
He didn't really care about the score—he wasn't a child anymore. But being made the "chicken" in Snape's "kill the chicken to warn the monkeys" routine was a little galling.
As soon as the point was docked, the Gryffindors looked utterly dejected, while the Slytherins were practically gleeful.
Slytherin had held the House Cup for five years running, with Gryffindor their main rivals. Any loss for Gryffindor was a win for them.
…
"Don't worry, Qin—we'll earn those points back!" Elvis consoled him as they left the classroom.
"It's not your fault. That milk thistle stuff is really obscure. I wouldn't have known either," Wilson added.
"Yeah, Professor Snape was just being difficult today!" Jimmy grumbled under his breath.
Looking at their earnest faces, Qin Yu couldn't bring himself to admit he didn't really care. Instead, he nodded and said, "Thanks, everyone. I'll work hard to get that point back—and then some!"
That did the trick. The group's spirits lifted, and determination sparked in their eyes.
"Come on, let's get to lunch—I'm starving," Qin Yu said.
The boys followed him eagerly toward the Great Hall.
…
Headmaster's Office.
Dumbledore sat behind his desk, several professors gathered around.
"So, what are your thoughts on his recent behavior?" Dumbledore asked.
"Emotionally, he's not the excitable type," Professor Swenton began. "Even with all the bloody images I showed in class, he only looked mildly disgusted—no unusual reaction. In fact, he was calmer than most of the others. Of course, maybe I didn't push him hard enough. I do worry about him losing control, though."
Dumbledore nodded, then looked to Severus Snape.
"I tried sarcasm, criticism—even deducted a point from Gryffindor. He remained perfectly calm," Snape reported.
No one else commented, but Professor McGonagall couldn't help herself. "Professor Snape, I hope you didn't dock points for no good reason!"
"Of course not. My reason was entirely sufficient," Snape replied coolly.
Dumbledore interjected, "And your observations, Professor McGonagall?"
"In my view, the boy is perfectly normal. He's caring, considerate—just look at how he's helped Elvis come out of his shell. That shows a sensitive and thoughtful nature," McGonagall said.
"Quite right—he's very attentive and perceptive," Professor Sprout agreed. "He's helped me out a great deal in class."
"I just wish he'd stop coming up with so many ideas in Flying class," sighed the white-haired Madam Hooch. "He keeps asking why we have to ride broomsticks—why not fly on a sword instead? His questions drive me mad!"
"Flying on a sword? That's certainly… inventive. Very Eastern," Professor Swenton remarked, unable to hide his amusement.
"So, he's psychologically healthy—not withdrawn or repressed?" Dumbledore summarized.
"Yes." "Absolutely." "Quite so."
The teachers all nodded.
"Well, that's good news," Dumbledore concluded. "Our next step is simply to let him live a normal life here, and teach him how to safely channel his magic."
"I thought the special student would arrive next year," Professor Swenton said, a note of meaning in his voice. "Didn't expect him early."
"Don't worry, Stephen. I'm sure he'll learn to control his powers soon. Then you'll be free to head off to the Himalayas and search for those ancient wizarding ruins," Dumbledore said, smiling.
"I hope so."
"All right, everyone—back to work," Dumbledore said, bringing the meeting to a close.
The teachers filed out, the brief conference over.
~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~
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