Sean had originally thought that brewing potions wouldn't be too difficult. After all, the process was supposed to follow strict steps.
But things turned out to be far more complicated than he'd imagined.
He knew that he had to toss dried nettles and ground snake fangs into the cauldron to simmer together, then add porcupine quills after extinguishing the fire.
However, that was only a brief description. Once it came to actual practice, problems popped up one after another.
How finely should the snake fangs be ground? How long after turning off the fire should the porcupine quills be added?
How much strength should be used when stirring? At what angle? And at what point in the process should the stirring happen?
The book contained no answers to these questions, and Professor Snape certainly didn't explain even a little.
Sean figured that these were probably things wizards were simply expected to know without needing any explanation.
Perhaps there was some sort of instinct involved—just like when he first practiced the Levitation Charm. A strange feeling might naturally guide a wizard.
And because these were things that everyone understood—or quickly figured out—
No one bothered to teach them.
Snape himself probably didn't even think about such problems.
Otherwise, as a Potions Master, there was only a very small chance he wouldn't have noticed them.
"But I seem to be the dunce, so these problems have become my obstacles."
Sean could only sigh inwardly.
His guess was confirmed seconds later, when he followed the book's instructions to the letter and tried to rely on any 'instinct' that might exist.
Before his eyes and Justin's puzzled stare, the cauldron—
—turned the potion inside a deep shade of blue.
"I remember that the cure for boils isn't supposed to look like this," Justin muttered, scratching his head, not quite believing the result.
The cauldron bubbled loudly, and the blue potion slowly grew thicker.
And just like the potion, Snape's expression turned increasingly unpleasant.
"Idiots!"
He strode over with sweeping steps, the hem of his robes cutting a sharp arc through the air.
"I imagine that besides your stirring and heating, you must have botched the ingredient preparation as well…"
With a flick of his wand, a stool appeared before him. He sat down elegantly, his gaze locked firmly on the bubbling blue potion. After only a few seconds of observation, he let out a cold laugh.
"Foolish choice of porcupine quills, trollish nettles, and disastrous snake fangs.
You actually picked non-venomous snake fangs?! Two morons worthy of hanging in a portrait gallery!"
His roar was merciless. With another wave of his wand, the contents of the cauldron vanished in an instant.
"You should be grateful you didn't mess up the steps, otherwise you'd have learned exactly what kind of lesson fools get from potion-making!"
His voice was as chilling as the draft that swept through the dungeon.
"One point off—each."
Justin had felt dread the moment Snape entered the room, but the barrage of insults still made his face flush bright red.
The sparkle in Sean's big eyes faded away. Just like when he practiced spells before, he had absolutely no instinct for potion-brewing.
He could already guess what his potion-making talent was like.
…
Even after class ended, no one dared to speak loudly. The shadow of the disastrous lesson still loomed over every student's head.
"Don't worry, Sean. We'll earn those lost points back," Justin said next to him, as much to encourage himself as to comfort Sean.
"Mm."
Sean looked a little distracted, but inside, he was perfectly calm.
If he were the type to give up because of difficulties, obstacles, or other people's mockery,
He wouldn't even have mastered the Levitation Charm by now.
The reason for his distraction was that he was mulling over Snape's words.
The heating had failed, the stirring had been wrong, the choice of ingredients was problematic…
These were the fundamentals of potion-making—and the problems Sean was currently facing.
Right now, two paths lay before him.
One was to do what he'd done with spell-casting: recklessly brew potions over and over, relying on luck to build experience.
But Sean immediately rejected that idea.
Potion-making was nothing like spell-casting.
This wasn't some safe branch of magic.
Potion ingredients and brewing could be dangerous and unpleasant—one careless mistake could create poisonous vapors or worse.
Trying his luck like that would be the same as gambling with potions.
Which meant only one path remained.
To understand the branch of magic that was Potions as quickly as possible, solve every potential problem one by one,
Then use actual brewing practice to build proficiency, earn a title, and enhance his talent.
This path was far more complex and difficult than the first, but it was clearly viable.
And once he succeeded even once, the speed of his progress afterward would increase dramatically.
'One problem at a time—but I have to be quick. Hogwarts doesn't only have this one subject.'
Sean's voice was audible only to himself.
The Great Hall's long tables were covered with a feast:
Roast turkey, tiny sausages, buttered peas, meat gravy, cranberry sauce, Christmas pudding, turkey sandwiches, baked rolls…
An endless spread.
His poor talent and Snape's venomous tongue hadn't dampened Sean's enthusiasm for eating in the slightest.
'Merlin's beard… this is delicious.'
Sean fought the battle swiftly and elegantly.
It had been half a year since he'd last eaten his fill. Even at the opening feast yesterday, he'd only managed to eat until he was seventy percent full.
The orphanage didn't have enough funding, so they often cut back on expenses.
As for how they saved money—caretaker Anna had once proposed that a child only needed one meal a day.
The acid reflux in the middle of the night was awful,
and when hunger was at its worst, Sean often considered the stray dogs outside the orphanage gate as emergency rations.
"Hermione! Over here!"
Justin was waving to Hermione, who'd been looking for a quiet corner to sit.
She quickly jogged over, cheeks slightly flushed.
"You're too loud!"
Hermione glared at him.
"Sorry, I was worried you wouldn't hear me," Justin said, his dimples deepening.
"Our first class this afternoon is Herbology. I noticed it's the most frequent class on the timetable…
I figured it wouldn't be easy, so I reviewed the textbook again. Hopefully it'll help. Oh, and I heard you already had Potions class…"
Hermione tilted her chin up and rattled off words like a machine gun.
"Herbology sounds wonderful. Do you get to learn about all those magical plants? Like… As for Potions class, I have to say…"
Justin listened attentively, and soon the two were deep in discussion.
Their voices gradually faded into the background as Sean thoughtfully pulled out his schedule.
[Wednesday morning: Herbology. Wednesday afternoon: Herbology. Friday afternoon: Herbology.]
It really was the most frequent class.
Hogwarts' curriculum was arranged deliberately. Herbology being scheduled so often must have been for a reason.
But why?
'…Disastrous ingredient choice… You must have mishandled the ingredients…'
Sean mentally replayed Snape's words, and within seconds, the answer became clear.
Herbology taught wizards how to prepare ingredients, and ingredient preparation was the very first step in potion-making.
So it wasn't hard to conclude—
To learn Potions, he first had to learn Herbology.