After two full Potions lessons, by the time class ended, nearly every first-year Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff looked like they'd been sprayed with a mouthful of Snape's poison.
Under the sharp tongue of the notoriously venomous Professor, more than a few students completely fell apart. Even simple brews they could've succeeded at under normal circumstances ended in failure. By the end of the day, both Houses had lost over a dozen points each—on the very first day of term.
As for duos like Ark and Padma, who actually managed to finish their potion successfully, Snape only tossed out a curt "mediocre" or "barely acceptable" before sweeping off in that infuriating, billowing way of his. He had no intention whatsoever of awarding points.
Ark was practically grinding his teeth. With a Head of House this biased, how was Ravenclaw supposed to outscore Slytherin and win the House Cup?
He refused to believe Snape docked points from his own House this way.
But what could he do? Snape was the Professor; he was just a student. There was no fighting the system. If complaining or reporting actually worked, Slytherin wouldn't have won the House Cup six years running.
If normal classwork won't earn points faster than Slytherin can rig the game… then I'll just have to find another way.
The thought struck him hard, and Ark began turning over possibilities in his mind.
When class ended, most students bolted for the door as if escaping a death sentence. Ark, however, lingered behind, still lost in thought, walking slowly rather than running.
Padma hesitated nearby, clearly wanting to speak to him, but in the end, she decided not to interrupt. With a regretful glance, she joined the other girls and left the dungeon.
Even by lunchtime, Ark hadn't come up with a solid plan.
"Forget it. I'll let it rest for now."
He gave his cheeks a quick slap and exhaled, deciding to shelve the matter.
The year's just started. There's no need to rush.
Winning the House Cup was important, sure—but he hadn't forgotten his true purpose in coming to Hogwarts: to learn magic.
With that in mind, Ark quickened his pace toward the library.
The Hogwarts library was one of the most important places in the entire castle.
Its collection was enormous—tens of thousands of books, at least several thousand shelves, and hundreds of aisles winding through a space so vast it defied imagination. Even the descriptions in the school guide couldn't do it justice.
The library's foundation stretched back over a thousand years, its shelves filled with books collected since the founding of Hogwarts itself. It was the living record of a millennium of magical knowledge.
To Ark, this place was without question one of the most essential—and sacred—parts of the school.
If someone were to ask what the most precious treasure in Hogwarts was, some might say the Philosopher's Stone recently stored within its walls. Others might argue it was one of the four founders' relics.
But to Ark, the truest treasure was this very library, for within it lay countless tomes of magic waiting to be uncovered.
Dumbledore had once studied here, amassing the wisdom that made him the greatest wizard of his age.
Voldemort had also studied here—and it was from these shelves that he discovered the method of creating Horcruxes, beginning his dark transformation.
Throughout history, countless witches and wizards had risen to greatness thanks to the knowledge found here. Some mastered extraordinary spells. Others learned to craft rare magical items. Still others used what they found to carve their names into legend.
Every Hogwarts student could freely enter the library. With the exception of the Restricted Section, the rest of the collection was open for borrowing.
Some students didn't appreciate what that meant. They coasted through seven years, learning only what was covered in class. But others understood the privilege and used it to widen the gap between themselves and their peers. That, Ark thought, was why Hogwarts graduates varied so wildly in skill.
There were those who, after graduation, seemed to forget every spell they'd ever learned—wizards in name only, barely able to cast a decent charm. And then there were those who shot to prominence, becoming names everyone in the magical world knew.
The difference was simple: whether they had made good use of the library.
For Ark, the library was one of the main reasons he'd wanted to attend Hogwarts in the first place. He wasn't about to waste such an opportunity.
Once he left Hogwarts, he knew he'd never again have access to magical knowledge this rich, this open.
That's why he'd decided early on—the library wasn't just a place to visit. It was a place to live in, every single day if he could help it.
So while most students were still finishing lunch in the Great Hall, Ark was already striding toward the library's grand double doors.
"A first-year?"
As soon as he stepped inside, a stern-looking witch in dark robes approached him.
"Good afternoon," Ark said politely, offering a small bow.
"I'm Madam Irma Pince, the librarian," she replied briskly.
Her gaze was sharp, and her tone even sharper as she gave her warning:
"Listen carefully, young wizard. You're free to read and borrow any of the books here—but if you scratch, tear, crease, soil, damage, throw, drop, or in any way whatsoever abuse or disrespect them, I will make certain you face the most dreadful consequences I am permitted to inflict. Understood?"
Ark nodded quickly, choosing not to argue. That seemed to satisfy her; her expression softened—slightly.
"And that," she continued, pointing toward an area roped off in the back, "is the Restricted Section. The books there often contain The Dark Arts or other materials unfit for students. You'll need written permission from a Professor to enter. No exceptions."
The area she indicated was noticeably darker than the rest of the library. Fewer shelves, dimmer light—it radiated an unsettling kind of gravity.
Ark glanced at it briefly before turning away.
"I understand," he said.
Of course he knew that the real treasures were hidden in that section—books so dangerous they could transform a wizard overnight. Tempting, yes, but deadly too.
For now, he'd focus on the safer tomes. Once he'd absorbed everything he could from the main collection, then he'd think about the Restricted Section.
After Madam Pince moved on, Ark began wandering between the towering shelves, eyes wide with awe.
Major Discoveries in Modern Magic.
A Study on the Development of Modern Wizardry.
Peculiar Magical Puzzles and Their Solutions.
The Mad Wizard's Experiments.
A Guide to Medieval Witchcraft.
Selected Spells of the Eighteenth Century.
Row upon row of precious volumes stretched before him. Some he recognized from shop windows in Diagon Alley; others he'd never even heard of. His heart raced with excitement.
If it weren't for Hogwarts, most of these books would've been out of reach. Even if he could find them elsewhere, the price would be astronomical.
For a broke young wizard like him, this was paradise. Here, he could read to his heart's content—free.
After some careful deliberation, Ark finally chose a thick volume titled Ancient and Forgotten Magic and Spells. He carried it to the reading tables and sat down.
The book was a study of long-lost enchantments, far older than the modern spells found in The Standard Book of Spells series.
Naturally, everything written inside was new to him.
Ark took a deep breath, activating his talent—Mind Guidance. His thoughts stilled, his focus sharpened, and his mind sank into calm clarity as he began absorbing every word.
"Ark?"
A soft voice spoke beside him, but he didn't react. He was too deep in concentration, completely oblivious to the world around him.
The girl who had approached him didn't seem offended. Watching him read so intently, she smiled, admiration flickering in her eyes. Then she picked a book of her own, sat down next to him, and quietly began to read as well.
At that moment, Ark stopped turning pages. His gaze had fallen on a familiar incantation—one that made his heart skip.
Its name: the Patronus Charm.