“Impedimenta! Scourgify!” Will quickly cast two spells, wiping away the spilled Potion entirely.
The concoction Neville had brewed was a genuine Potion for boils, and touching it would cause large patches of boils to break out.
“Idiot!” Snape roared, “I suppose you didn’t take the cauldron off the fire before adding the porcupine quills, did you?”
Neville began to sniffle and cry, a mass of boils suddenly erupting even across his nose.
“Take him up to the hospital wing,” Snape snapped at Seamus.
“Potter, why didn’t you tell him not to add the porcupine quills? Did you think you would look good just because he made a mistake? Gryffindor loses another point because of you.” Snape found another opportunity to dock Harry a point and diverted the animosity toward Will.
“Why don’t you learn from Behrens, hmm? Learn how he guides his classmates and handles accidents promptly. Slytherin gains two points for Behrens’s excellent performance.”
Will suddenly felt a bit uninspired—he hadn’t managed to gain many experience points during the entire class; even current Potion Classes didn’t grant as much experience as helping Snape process Potion ingredients himself, causing him to lower his evaluation of this class.
When Potion Class ended, Will left the classroom and inadvertently heard Ron whispering to Harry about him: “Look at that Behrens, I bet he’s one of Snape’s little Dark Wizards, specially meant to deal with you. Snape really likes him, doesn’t he?”
Will couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to him.
Sylvia leaned close to Will: “What are you planning to do over the weekend?”
“Reading books, studying spells, and going to detention in the evening.” Will just wanted to grind experience points!
“You really are boring.”
“Boring? That six-inch-long (about 15 centimeters) essay on the Potion for boils that Professor Snape assigned us is quite interesting,” Will reminded her.
“I don’t think he’ll cut you any slack just because you’re in Slytherin.”
Sylvia’s face fell into a miserable scowl: “Oh heavens, we still have assignments for Charms class, Transfiguration, and History of Magic to write.”
“Then you might have to spend your weekend buried in books. I’m heading to the Library now, do you want to come along?”
Sylvia thought for a moment: “Of course, though I’d like to see how you wrote your essay.”
…
Hogwarts Library was located on the west side of the castle, and the space inside was several times larger than it appeared from the outside due to space-expanding magic.
Inside the multi-tiered Library, hundreds of bookshelves crisscrossed, interspersed with numerous brown desks and Young Wizards reading books; automatically moving ladders slid between the bookshelves, and tens of thousands of magic books piled upon them; the Restricted Section in the deepest part was cordoned off, dangerous and mysterious.
Perhaps because today was Friday, there weren’t many people in the Library, making it appear somewhat deserted.
Will greeted Madam Pince, the librarian, who admonished him not to damage the books.
“Sylvia, you’re here too.”
“Hello there, Hermione.”
When Will carried a huge stack of books back to his chosen seat, he discovered that Hermione had also arrived at the Library.
He wasn’t surprised, after all, Hermione was a legendary study fiend.
“Can you possibly finish reading this many books?” Hermione was astonished that Will had borrowed over a dozen books, ranging from Transfiguration and Charms to Potions and Dark Arts; the span of these books was undeniably vast.
“I don’t understand anything, so of course I need to learn more.” Although Will’s words were modest, in the ears of Sylvia and Hermione, it was pure humblebragging.
How could you call that not understanding anything?
During classes these days, who knows who became a point-grinding machine, failing to answer not a single question posed by the teachers.
Will waved his hand; he truly didn’t understand anything yet, his skill experiences weren’t all maxed out one by one, and in a few years Voldemort would make a comeback—what would he do if he didn’t grind himself into a powerful Wizard?
Do you understand the phobia of insufficient strength!
Watching the resentful gazes of the two young witches, Will buried his head behind the stack of books and began browsing through the materials while writing the essay assigned by Snape.
[ You have acquired new Potions knowledge, your Potions experience + 1 ]
[ You have analyzed some Potions knowledge, your Potions experience + 2 ]
…
Until the sun set in the west and the candles in the Library lit automatically, Will put down his quill and rubbed his sore eyes, having spent the entire afternoon finishing the essay assigned by Snape.
Nearby, Sylvia kept poking her head over, “borrowing” Will’s assignment.
“Hey, assignments aren’t meant for you to copy; you can only gain knowledge by doing them yourself.” Will flicked Sylvia on the forehead.
“You don’t understand, I’m extracting knowledge from the knowledge you extracted; this is all the essence.” Sylvia rubbed her head, full of argument.
Will facepalmed; when he first met her, he thought Sylvia was an arrogant, stuck-up Young Wizard from a Pure-blood family.
He never expected this fellow to be completely different from the aloof demeanor she usually displayed.
“Will is right, Sylvia, you can’t copy his essay anymore; it won’t do you any good.” Hermione had already written more than half of hers.
“You’re right.” Sylvia nodded, “Then let me take a look at yours.”
“You guys keep writing here, my detention time is almost up.” Will packed up his books and put away his essay; shortly he was going to consult Snape in person.
“Detention? You were given detention? How is that possible?” Hermione didn’t know about the matter in the Slytherin common room.
The people of Slytherin had locked down the news.
People always thought Gryffindor was the house that violated school rules the most severely, but in reality, every house violated school rules, and Slytherin students violated school rules no less than Gryffindor students. Find the original chapter at g.com.
It was just that Gryffindor students were caught more often.
Don’t really think that this group of Young Wizards in Slytherin, composed of the “Pure-bloods” of the Wizarding World, would be well-behaved; many of their families relied on illicit means to plunder wealth, and their family education wouldn’t teach children to be sheep.
In fact, internal fights frequently broke out within Slytherin, except that everyone tacitly kept these matters restricted within Slytherin.
Situations like Will getting into a group fight happened plenty of times inside Slytherin, and the reason Will was given detention was also because he had used large-scale destructive spells.
“Oh, Hermione, the thing is like this.” Sylvia whispered her explanation to Hermione.
“Blood discrimination has always existed: pure-bloods discriminate against half-bloods, and half-bloods discriminate against Muggles. This is the norm in the Wizarding World.” Sylvia explained the problems of the Wizarding World to the inexperienced Hermione.
Hearing this, Hermione’s face was filled with indignation: “How can these people be like this? Can they just bully others relying on their aristocratic status? Does the Ministry of Magic simply not care?”
After all, being young, she still didn’t understand the perils of society.
“Yet you are also a pure-blood, and you don’t discriminate against anyone.”
“The Lestrange Family is different; our branch is divided into three parts, and our branch doesn’t care much for blood-status theories.
In fact, my maternal grandfather was even a Muggle!
The Lestrange Family has also produced Death Eaters, but our relationship is already very distant, counting only as distant relatives.” Sylvia paused for a moment and continued: “Besides, I was originally supposed to go to Beauxbatons, while my grandmother wanted me to go to Durmstrang, saying that as long as I wrote a letter, I could get the best treatment at Durmstrang.
But I really wanted to come to Hogwarts, and my father supported me, so the family had no choice but to let me study here.”
“… So that’s how it is.” Sylvia’s words plunged little Hermione into immense shock—could schools actually be chosen at will?
“Then why did you want to come to Hogwarts?”
“Well, that’s a secret, I’ll tell you later. But if you’re willing to let me see your essay, maybe I’ll tell you a bit earlier.” Sylvia grinningly went to look at Hermione’s essay.
…
Leaving the situation here aside for the moment.
On the other side, inside the office, Will stared at Snape: “So you mean that Headmaster Dumbledore wants to see me?”
“That’s right. The Headmaster’s Office is on the eighth floor of the castle, with a gargoyle statue at the entrance; the password is ‘lemon sherbet’.” Holding Will’s essay in his hand, Snape was somewhat surprised as well.
He hadn’t expected Will to finish the essay in just an afternoon; this attitude was not bad.
As for Will’s Potions talent, he would have to observe him further.
Will left Snape’s office, somewhat dazed.
Had he caught Dumbledore’s attention already?