"Professor, it was Severus who attacked first and insulted Lily! I was just defending myself!" The moment Slughorn lifted the spell, James blurted it out, glaring at Alan.
"Professor Slughorn," Alan began in a calm, even voice. "I simply asked Miss Evans to return my textbook, the one I once lent her. Mr. Potter grabbed my jacket and started demanding something incoherent, threatening me. So I used a nonverbal Silencio on him. Apparently he didn't like that, so he decided to attack me from behind. Though what am I saying? He's an animal. Animals don't have something like honor. Please forget what I said earlier."
"That's not true!" Sirius protested at once, defending his friend. He had pleasant features and the pale look of an aristocrat. "He attacked James first, and it definitely wasn't Silencio. And he called Lily a 'Mudblood' too!"
"I called her that because that's what she is."
"What did you say?!"
"She is a Mudblood, a witch whose parents are Muggles. I wasn't insulting her in any way."
"I understand," Slughorn cut in, his voice controlled as he looked at Severus with mild surprise.
Severus was one of Slughorn's favorites, so he knew him well, and this change put him on alert. The Severus he remembered would never have called Lily that. Lily had been his only friend, the dearest person in his life.
Slughorn considered Severus a very talented wizard who could achieve a great deal in the future. And that was why he had invited him into the Slug Club, the circle Slughorn had founded decades ago to gather students who were likely to become important later.
Slughorn loved comfort. He also loved collecting talented people around him, helping them, drawing out their gifts, and introducing them to one another. And although he was Head of Slytherin, he never discriminated against students from other houses and treated everyone equally.
"Minus five points from Slytherin," Slughorn said, shaking his head in displeasure. "Mr. Snape, 'Mudblood' is an insult, and I ask you not to use that word toward Miss Evans again."
"My apologies, Professor, but I don't consider that word an insult," Alan said, shaking his head. "The Daily Prophet even ran an article saying the word isn't an insult, only an unofficial designation for wizards born to Muggles."
"Is that so? Then tell me the issue number."
"Of course. Number 6910."
"Good. I'll check. And if it turns out to be true, I'll award ten points to Slytherin," Slughorn said with a faint smile, then looked at the Gryffindors. "Mr. Potter, for attempting to harm Mr. Snape, you will also serve a month of detention with Mr. Filch."
"But he started it first! Lily, why are you silent? Tell him, you saw everything!"
Lily had been staring at Severus the entire time... She simply couldn't recognize him. She had never seen that kind of coldness from him, and the indifference in his gaze while he choked James terrified her. She couldn't understand how he could have changed so much in just a few days. When she heard Potter's voice, she flinched and looked at him as if she didn't understand the words.
"...What?"
"It was Severus who attacked first!"
"Yes..." Lily nodded numbly and looked at Severus again. When his eyes met hers, she shuddered. There was only indifference there.
"That was self-defense, Miss Evans. And it was a simple Silencio, a silencing spell. It couldn't threaten anyone's life."
At that moment, three more students approached. On their robes, over the chest, was a silver snake on a green background, the same crest Alan wore.
"Professor, forgive me, but we're ready to confirm Mr. Snape's words," said a boy with aristocratic features and slicked-back blond hair. "We saw him approach them and politely ask for his textbook. Mr. Potter grabbed his jacket and started demanding something aggressively. Mr. Snape asked him to let go, but he wouldn't listen, so a spell was used that made him shut up. As soon as the textbook was returned, Mr. Snape lifted the spell and turned to leave. But in a fit of rage, Mr. Potter aimed his wand at his back. We were about to intervene when you appeared."
"Good. I'll take your testimony into account," Slughorn said, nodding, clearly pleased. He liked seeing students in his house help one another, even if it was usually for personal gain. "But Mr. Snape, you will also be punished. I don't need to explain why, do I?"
"No, I understand."
"Good. Three days of detention with Mr. Filch, starting tomorrow. And today, I expect you in my office. I need to speak with you about something," Slughorn added with a smile. "You five, follow me to the exam. And you, Mr. Macmillan, may go."
"Yes." With a contemptuous smirk, a glance at the four Gryffindors, and a nod to Alan, Mr. Macmillan left with the two boys who followed him.
Alan returned the nod with the same smile and followed Slughorn, ignoring the four hateful stares burning into him.
"Professor."
"Yes, Mr. Snape?"
"After the exam, could you give me a pass for the Restricted Section?"
"Why do you need it?"
"I want to study Potions more deeply." "And I also want to learn more about this world, especially its magic and spells..."
"Is that so?" Slughorn nodded approvingly, took out a notebook, murmured something, tore out a sheet, and handed it to Alan. "If you have questions about Potions, I'm always ready to answer. You know where to find me."
"Thank you, Professor."
They reached the Potions classroom quickly. It was in the dungeons, a spacious, gloomy, and rather cool room, stocked with all sorts of ingredients for brewing.
"I see everyone is here," Slughorn said, scanning the class. "Then we'll begin the exam." Several dozen sheets flew from the desk and landed in front of each student. "The exam has two parts: written first, then practical. You have forty-five minutes for each part. Any questions?" He waited ten seconds, then continued. "Good. Begin."
Alan glanced at the sheet and a faint smile played on his lips. He didn't even have to think about the first question. The answer surfaced on its own.
"If he hadn't ended his life, he would have become a great potion-maker," Alan thought with a trace of regret. "Why do geniuses always die young?"
With a heavy sigh, he started the test. It took him five minutes to finish. The sheet vanished at once and reappeared in Slughorn's hand. Slughorn skimmed the answers, smiled contentedly, nodded, and set it aside.
When the first part ended, everyone stood. In the same instant, the chairs and desks vanished, and cauldrons appeared in their place.
"For the second part, you will brew the Draught of Peace. You have all the ingredients. Begin."
As soon as they were allowed to start, Alan went to the ingredients, gathered what he needed, returned to his station, and began brewing.
As he worked, his hands moved on their own, adding ingredients in exact proportions at exactly the right moments.
"Potions isn't that difficult. The main thing is to follow the recipe precisely. And the way these hands move makes it obvious Severus worked hard to excel at it... Still, seals and runes are closer to me."
After thirty minutes, a thick gray paste filled Alan's cauldron, carrying a light, pleasant aroma. One breath of it made the mind, and the whole body, slowly relax...
"Good," Slughorn said, nodding in satisfaction as he looked into the cauldron. "Mr. Snape, as always, outstanding. Perfectly brewed."
"Thank you, Professor."
Ten minutes later, time ran out, and Alan left the classroom. Next was the library, and it greeted him with a deathly silence.
The room itself was large, lined with tall bookshelves. It looked like an ordinary library, except that the subjects were far more specific.
He approached the desk where a middle-aged woman sat. She wasn't beautiful, but she was still attractive for her age. Alan placed Slughorn's note in front of her.
"Madam Pince, you look magnificent as always." She wasn't particularly surprised, but as a woman, she still enjoyed it. Her mood lifted slightly, and she didn't look at Alan with the eyes of a bulldog ready to tear him apart if he so much as scuffed a book.
Madam Pince loved books and treated them like her children, guarding them as fiercely as she could. Heaven help anyone who stained a book or even tore a page. She would make them her personal enemy, and they would learn what her wrath looked like.
There was even a legend at Hogwarts that once the headmaster took a book called Theory of Transubstantial Transfiguration and, deep in thought, began scribbling in the margins. The book immediately smacked him on the forehead. People said Madam Pince had enchanted it, and even the headmaster, the strongest wizard in the country, couldn't shield himself from her anger.
That was why so many students feared her. If she wasn't afraid to answer back to the headmaster, what would she do to ordinary students?
"Snape..." Madam Pince examined the note, then nodded and returned it. "You may enter, but just try to touch even one book..."
"I know, Madam Pince," Alan said with a polite smile. He nodded and headed toward the locked gate. Beyond it was a dark room, several times smaller than the main library. "All right. Time to study. I'm curious what a world with so little magic has managed to achieve..."