Chapter 23: Missing Potion Ingredients
"Are you alright?" Michael asked, carefully steadying Sean. The smaller boy was still panting heavily.
"I'm fine," Sean managed to say after a few moments, his breathing evening out. He had overestimated the resilience of his still-recovering body. He made a mental note to walk more slowly next time and bumped 'learning to fly' up his priority list. It was now second only to securing the scholarship.
"Okay," Michael said, his eyes downcast and flickering with concern.
Once they were back in their dormitory, Sean's task was simple. All he had to do was complete the homework for History of Magic, Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, and Defence Against the Dark Arts. The assignments were all due at the end of the week, but Sean had no intention of procrastinating.
He finished his Defence Against the Dark Arts essay in half an hour. The Charms essay took him less than twenty minutes. The only real challenge was the foot-long History of Magic paper, but he had already completed most of it in the library, leaving only the conclusion.
"You've got to be kidding me," Michael, who had been watching the entire process, said in a daze. "You just… like that… finished three assignments? Including that ridiculously long History of Magic essay?"
Sean turned to look at him, his long eyelashes fluttering.
"Don't you give me that 'it's perfectly normal, can't you do it?' look!" Michael slammed his book shut. "I guarantee you, no one else has finished this much homework yet!"
He stormed out of the dormitory, returning a moment later with two other wizards in tow—Terry and Anthony.
"Sorry to disturb you," Anthony said politely.
"Michael said there was a Mer…" Terry began shyly, before Michael clapped a hand over his mouth.
"See, Sean? No one's finished," Michael said triumphantly, waving two rolls of parchment that had barely three inches of writing on them. "So, please, teach us your ways!"
Sean was a little confused. The essay was long, yes, but it wasn't that difficult. Seeing the three pairs of pleading eyes fixed on him, he nodded and picked up his own parchment.
"Actually," Sean said, pointing to his own neat script, "writing a history paper is quite simple. Professor Binns gave us the topic of Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball. The first step is to create a timeline to place both wizards in their historical context…"
He handed his own meticulously drawn timeline to the three of them, who were now listening with rapt attention.
"From there, you can analyze the historical background of their lives. The information in A History of Magic is more than sufficient. The second step is to analyze their actions within that context. There's a good saying in one of the books: to judge a historical figure without their context is to be a scoundrel. Third, re-evaluate their actions and form your own thesis. Fourth, compare and contrast them with other figures and events from the historical record. This synthesis of history and analysis is the core of any good essay. And finally, you can write a short conclusion, discuss the value of your thesis, or even add some thoughts for further research."
As if remembering something, he opened a notebook that was already half-full. "Since the timeline in A History of Magic is a bit muddled, I've reorganized it using a few other books like Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century and Notable Magical Names of Our Time. You can use my notes if you like."
He looked up as the expressions on the three other boys' faces shifted from dazed to dazzled. Michael took the notebook with the reverence of a religious zealot.
"Sean," he breathed, "you are an angel sent by Merlin himself to save us. This… this is my new holy scripture. My parchment! Where's my parchment? I'm ready to battle this essay for another three hundred rounds!"
Terry and Anthony were filled with a newfound, fervent enthusiasm. The dormitory fell silent, the only sounds the scratching of quills and the crackling of the fire in the hearth.
As Anthony's sincere words of thanks still echoed in his ears, Sean effortlessly finished his Transfiguration essay. The same logical framework, he had found, could be applied to almost any assignment.
He set his Potions homework aside and, in his personal notebook, wrote down the second step of his plan:
Step 2: Acquire ingredients for Potion-brewing practice.
He now had a basic understanding of how to prepare the materials. All he needed were the ingredients themselves. But where could he get them? The first-year supply list hadn't included them, as all Potion ingredients were provided by the school. Could he use the classroom supplies after hours?
He could, in theory. But the probability of Professor Snape agreeing to such a request was infinitely close to zero. An image of Snape's perpetually sneering, refusal-etched face flashed in his mind.
He sighed. If there was anything more terrible than having no talent, it was having no talent and having Professor Snape as your teacher.
What was he to do? The question circled in his mind as twilight enveloped Hogwarts.
The blue and bronze silk curtains of the dormitory windows deepened to a near-midnight blue in the faint moonlight. The air smelled of old parchment, a faint, clean scent like the air after a rainstorm, and the subtle, dusty fragrance of old books. Sean's gaze drifted to the world outside the large, arched window.
"There's always a way," he said to himself. "This is Hogwarts, a place of magic."
The long night passed, and the castle awoke once more. The first warm, orange rays of sunlight touched the stone statues in the corridors, causing a young wizard hurrying past with a stack of books to shield his eyes.
It was Wednesday. The Ravenclaws had no classes first thing in the morning, and most of the first-years were still asleep. Sean, however, was already up. His time in the orphanage, where missing the strict breakfast time meant going without, had instilled in him the habit of rising early.
He walked into the Great Hall and began a full-scale assault on the pumpkin soup, chicken and ham pie, and Wizarding Cracker Jacks. As always, a smiling Justin materialized at his side.
"Morning, Sean."
"Good morning." Sean nodded, noticing Justin was reading a thick copy of Notable Magical Names of Our Time.
"Hogwarts is amazing," Justin said with a sigh. "If it wasn't for that foot-long essay from Professor Binns, I think I'd have much more time to explore the castle, and the kitchens right next to our common room…" At the mention of homework, a small cloud passed over his usually sunny face.
"Mm." The word 'kitchens' caught Sean's attention, and his own green eyes seemed to sparkle a little brighter. That wretched Sorting Hat, he thought. I, too, wish to be a Hufflepuff with unlimited access to snacks…
Then, a strange thought occurred to him.
"Professor Binns gave the Hufflepuffs a foot-long essay, too?"
"Too?" Justin looked up in surprise. "You don't mean…"