In the blink of an eye, the new semester arrived right on schedule.
Most of the students looked listless, dragging their feet, and hadn't shaken off the lingering aftertaste of the holiday—except for a small handful of overachievers like Hermione.
The teachers, on the other hand, seemed as usual, especially Professor Snape, who actually looked like he was in a far better mood than during the holidays.
You could tell from the ever-diminishing number of house points gemstones in Gryffindor's jar.
But of course, there were exceptions.
On the first Magic Potion class after the break, Harry, under Snape's watchful gaze, smoothly and easily finished brewing a potion.
"Not bad brewing skills," Professor Snape said from behind him.
Harry turned his head, just as his shoulder felt a bit stiff, so he rubbed it with the other hand, his face blocked by his arm, leaving only his pair of green eyes showing.
Harry couldn't tell if it was his imagination, but it seemed like Professor Snape's expression even had a trace of happiness.
"Three points to Gryffindor, for your magic potion brewing skills."
Ron, who was sitting to the side, had his pupils suddenly widen—and then shrink just as fast.
Merlin's socks, Professor Snape… actually gave Gryffindor points?!
Bloody hell, did the sun rise from the west today or something?
He snuck a glance over, wanting to see if the Professor had maybe washed his hair today.
But unfortunately, Professor Snape's hair was still as greasy as his tone.
Draco's expression grew even gloomier, but he just curled his lip disdainfully and didn't say a thing.
At lunch, all of Gryffindor College was talking about this historic event.
"Merlin, Professor Snape actually gave points to Gryffindor!" Ron said in disbelief. "Heaven knows, ever since Snape took over as Professor of Potions, Gryffindor has never scored a single point in this class!"
"Let's not talk about Professor Snape right now!" Hermione whispered, "Before the holidays I asked you two to pay attention and try to find out where Fluffy is guarding, don't tell me you found absolutely nothing during the break!"
If they hadn't just mentioned Snape, she almost would have forgotten about that whole thing.
"Er…" Ron choked on his words—in the holiday, apart from visiting the Granger family, whenever he was at school all he could think about was eating an extra chicken leg or two, or playing a game of Wizard Chess.
As for finding Fluffy, that thing had totally slipped his mind.
I mean, I barely got any downtime before the holiday, and still hardly got any during the break, isn't that just a wasted bloody vacation?
"How about you, Harry?" Hermione looked at Harry.
Harry cleared his throat; over the break, he'd been reading Cassandra's notes—or maybe it was actually her diary—and hadn't really thought about Fluffy at all.
But in a sudden pinch, he actually managed to come up with something clever.
"Do you remember how Professor Dumbledore mentioned at the start of term that the fourth-floor room was closed off?" Harry whispered, "If I'm not mistaken, that abandoned classroom has got to be where Fluffy is."
"What makes you so sure?" Hermione frowned.
Facing Hermione's skeptical look, Harry whispered, "Well, that's where Principal Dumbledore absolutely forbade anyone to go. No matter what, we only need to go check it out and we'll know if it's true."
"Yeah, no thanks." Hermione curled her lips. "You know that's the Headmaster's strictly forbidden area—I'm not about to get expelled just because you suggested it."
"Hermione's right, Harry," Ron said quietly. "I'm sure Dumbledore has his reasons."
"Mm." Harry didn't press them. He didn't want his friends getting mixed up in something this dangerous, anyway.
He'd just wait until he was serving detention with Professor Snape, and slip off to check it out himself.
As long as he protected the Magic Stone, once summer came he could take a trip to France and borrow it from the Leme couple, and everything would turn out fine.
By then, he'd be able to get into the Map Secret Room smoothly.
"Well, at least your life'll get a bit easier," Ron said to Harry. "At least when you're in detention, Professor Snape won't torture you with poison anymore. You can totally tell—that photo really worked."
"What photo?" Hermione asked in confusion.
"Harry's aunt sent him a few photos of his mum back in the day, and there was one with Professor Snape in it," Ron explained to Hermione. "Harry picked it out and gave it to Professor Snape as a gift, and he even got a bottle of Blessing Potion for it."
"Looks like your hunch was right, Harry." Hermione looked a bit puzzled. "But why is there a photo with only your mum and Professor Snape, but none with Professor Snape and your dad?"
"No idea." Harry shrugged. "Maybe the photo of my dad and Professor Snape is hidden somewhere else, who knows."
"That's probably it." Ron said, "I bet Professor Snape was pretty chuffed to get that photo."
And he really was. That night, when Harry went to serve his detention in Snape's underground office, Snape did a total 180 from usual—he didn't make him handle tons of magic potion materials, but had him brew a batch of Thunder Brew instead.
"Thunder Brew. Once thrown, it creates a lightning storm at the spot. Good for damaging enemies," Professor Snape drawled, his tone thick and oily. "This magic potion's recipe was actually…"
Right there, Professor Snape suddenly stopped.
"What's wrong, Professor?" Harry asked.
"It was your mother who found it in some lost ancient texts." Snape's voice suddenly got all gentle. "I think with your current potion skills, you're just about ready for this recipe."
"Thank you, Professor." Harry answered obediently, though he was thinking, We used Thunder Brew all the time before…
This was Gareth's favorite thing, and they always scored the ingredients from Professor Sharp's little storeroom for free.
But in the end, the one who made the Thunder Brew shine was Cassandra.
The Malfoy family really did live up to that Platinum Nobility status. Somehow Cassandra's Thunder Brew stash was endless—no one knew just how many magic items she'd stuffed into her little pouch.
"Two ounces of leech juice, two shriveled fig fruits, and three and a third ounces of corpse-stench essence," Professor Snape said slowly and clearly. "Normally, you can find corpse-stench essence on a Yin Corpse—but your old Professor doesn't recommend you do that. Trust me, Yin Corpses are not something a Little Giant your age can deal with."
"Got it, Professor." Harry answered obediently, automatically ignoring that "Little Giant" comment.
After Professor Snape gave a hands-on demonstration of how to brew Thunder Brew, Harry was inexplicably shooed out of the underground office.
At the same time, he was holding a fresh bottle of Thunder Brew in his hand.
Honestly, I'll never figure you Slytherins out, he thought.