Chapter 8: The Potion's Challenge
The Potions classroom was a symphony of bubbling cauldrons, the air thick with the metallic scent of herbs and the cold bite of stone walls. Flickering torchlight cast shadows that danced like specters, glinting off a chipped pewter spoon abandoned on a workbench. Leo clutched the Basilisk venom vial, its eerie green glow pulsing faintly, and approached Snape's cauldron, Hermione at his side. Her robes were slightly askew, a loose thread catching on a splintered table edge. This is it. No explosions, please. His heart raced, a frantic hummingbird in his chest, the air heavy with anticipation and the faint burn of potion fumes.
"Professor."
His voice was calm, but his pulse betrayed him.
"We need your help."
Snape's face was a mask of sneering disdain, his eyes narrowing at the vial, his black robes absorbing the torchlight.
"Cure petrification? How… ambitious."
"Ambition our middle name."
Leo quipped, sarcasm shielding his fear, his fingers tightening on the vial. Snape's gaze softened, a flicker of curiosity breaking through.
"A dangerous substance. Be careful."
Snake prof for snake cure? The irony's thick. Leo thought, his resolve wavering. I'm an idiot, but for Pixel, I'll try. The cauldron, usually calm, was a maelstrom of roiling liquid, its shimmering green turning a menacing black. Leo and Hermione stirred, their hands shaking, the wooden spoon's handle worn smooth. A cracked vial on the table rattled, a mundane anchor to the chaos.
[WARNING: POTION INSTABILITY AT 87%. SUGGEST ADDING… UH, LOVE? NO, THAT'S STUPID. TRY A HIPPOGRIFF HAIR.]
A red bar flashed in his vision, a warning sharp as a blade. Love? Pass. He almost laughed, his hands steadying.
"Love? Pass."
He muttered, the cauldron's heat warming his face. Hermione stirred furiously, her brow furrowed, her knuckles white on the spoon.
"Steady… almost!"
Her determination was a rock, her voice a lifeline. A familiar voice broke through.
"Don't explode… again."
Neville Longbottom stumbled past, a small herb in his hand, his eyes wide with Hufflepuff fear. Leo smiled, the tension easing.
"Boom-free zone, Neville."
The cauldron shook violently, a loud BOOM echoing, the potion exploding in a spray of glowing green goo. It splattered their robes, the sticky liquid warm and acrid, dripping onto the stone floor. A chipped goblet nearby caught a stray drop, glinting in the torchlight. Well, that's a mess. The room fell silent, their ragged breathing the only sound.
"Well."
Leo wiped goo from his face, the texture slimy.
"At least I'm fashionable."
"Green envy."
Agnes snickered, conjuring a shimmering illusion of a fashion show around him, her wand twirling. The group laughed, the sound a fragile relief. [NOTE TO SELF: POTIONS ARE NOT YOUR FRIEND. STICK TO BEASTS.]
"Beasts it is."
Leo said, purpose flooding him, the goo's weight tugging at his robes. Hermione wiped her brow, resolute.
"Round two."
Her voice was unwavering.
"A hippogriff feather. That's what we need."
We're not done. The frustration faded, hope rising. A frayed apron hung on a hook, swaying faintly, grounding their new plan. Pixel, I'm coming. They'd face the next challenge outside, among the beasts Leo was meant to tame, the failure a sharp spur to action.