"Sean, oh—this might be a bit forward, but... are you planning to practice brewing potions on your own?"
Justin handed back the parchment and the light blue notebook, his tone gentle, laced with a subtle concern.
"Mm-hmm."
Sean nodded. Without practice to build up his proficiency, his Potions talent would barely scrape a pass.
As for an Outstanding? The odds were slim—too slim for Sean to bet on.
"You're looking for materials? I mean, the four ingredients for the Antidote to Common Poisons?"
Seeing Sean nod again, Justin let out a quiet breath of relief, his face blooming into a warm, perfectly measured smile.
"Maybe I can lend a hand... Come on, I've got to show you somewhere."
With that, he led the puzzled Sean through the Great Hall.
They passed directly beneath the enchanted ceiling, descending the stairs toward the Hufflepuff basement.
The stone-lined underground corridor glowed with warm lamplight.
Sean glanced around curiously, sensing something familiar stirring.
"Oh, we're passing the Hogwarts kitchens—I've got to let you in on this secret..."
Justin grinned and approached the wall, pausing before a painting of a bowl of fruit. He tickled the pear in the bowl, which giggled and turned into a bright green door handle.
The entrance to the Hogwarts kitchens.
Side quest unlocked: Epicurean delights.
Sean thought.
"As long as you're polite about it, the house-elves will hand over food without a second thought. Just one rule: no Peeves."
Justin warned solemnly.
"But that's not our stop today. Look—we're almost there. The Hufflepuff common room."
They reached a stack of large barrels in the far corner of the kitchen corridor.
Justin rapped a distinctive rhythm on the middle two in the second row—the lids spun open, revealing an upward-sloping tunnel lined with magical lanterns.
It led to a cozy, warm round room that called to mind a badger's burrow.
The space was decorated in cheerful black-and-yellow hues, like bumblebees, accented by polished honey-colored wooden tables and round doors.
Potted cacti sat on circular wooden frames, many of them waving at passing students, while copper hanging baskets from the ceiling sprouted curling ferns and vines that gently combed Sean's hair as he walked beneath.
At the far end, a wooden mantelpiece carved with dancing badgers framed a portrait of Helga Hufflepuff herself—one of Hogwarts' four founders—holding a golden cup with two handles, toasting her students.
Around Lady Hufflepuff, small round windows sat level with the castle's basement floor, offering views of swaying grass and dandelions in the breeze, with the occasional passing foot.
Though the windows were quite low, sunlight flooded the room year-round.
"Welcome to the Hufflepuff common room!"
Justin announced proudly.
Then, with a fluid motion from beside a thickly cushioned sofa, he pulled out a trunk that screamed expense.
It sprang open, dazzling Sean.
Topmost was a glittering pile of Galleons, followed by scattered letters and postcards—and beside them, jars and crystal vials of every sort.
Sean spotted snake fangs and dried nettles at a glance.
His hunch confirmed, though the surprise lingered—would a first-year really shell out for these exorbitantly priced potion ingredients?
"I haven't got any use for them myself, but I figured... maybe you would."
Justin's smile radiated warmth.
"Could... could I buy some?"
Justin had caught him off guard with the generosity, but Sean still needed the funds to back it.
A bundle of nettles ran a Galleon—enough for over thirty practices.
A jar of horned slugs, another Galleon—for forty-plus sessions.
A bottle of snake fangs and a bundle of porcupine quills would last about the same, but at two Galleons each.
Six Galleons total. Essential outlay...
Sean calculated.
...
If he could brew passable potions to sell, maybe he could recoup the cost?
"Sean, what are you on about?"
Justin looked genuinely startled.
"If you need them for brewing, then this is my way of helping out. It's hard to believe I can actually support you for once—I've always felt a bit sheepish about leaning on you so much..."
Sean blinked, then watched as Justin packed the vials and jars into his bag.
"But—"
Before Sean could protest, Justin murmured softly:
"I believe you'll nail it. And if you don't... I've got a spare set right here."
...
Leaving the Hufflepuff common room, Justin's steps felt lighter, his mother's words echoing anew:
"My dear Fenrir, remember? Everyone has their strengths. And children of the Fenrir line? We're masters at pulling everyone's best together."
Sean hadn't fought the help in the end—gentle Justin could be stubborn as a mule.
"If I can help you with Herbology or bash through that History of Magic essay, but you can't offer me this tiny bit of support... then what kind of friends are we?"
Fair enough.
Sean told himself.
Having a Hufflepuff friend is the best.
...
Lunchtime.
In the Great Hall.
Sean devoured his meal like a whirlwind.
With his biggest headache solved, all that remained was sneaking off to brew, mastering heat control and stirring.
Beside him, Justin clutched a few new notebooks—Sean's Defence Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration notes.
His own progress outpaced the classroom by miles, making these an outright cheat code for Justin.
Hermione, seated nearby, keenly sensed the unusual vibe today.
Odd—Justin was eating faster, more voraciously.
She suspected Sean's influence.
As they parted in the hall, Sean caught Justin's quiet words:
"Anyway, Sean... just know, if you run into trouble, you can come to me. We're friends, right?"
Justin's sincere gray eyes mirrored the hearth's firelight. Sean nodded.
Hogwarts' fireplaces were warmer than he'd imagined.
So was Hufflepuff.
I want to be a Hufflepuff!
Bloody Sorting Hat!
...
Afternoon Herbology.
In the greenhouse.
Sean handled the dried nettles with practiced ease.
Ordinary plants, sure—but soaked in a special blue potion, they became magical staples for Swelling Solution or Antidote to Common Poisons.
Oh, and Professor Sprout had added:
"Nettle essence works for Sleeping Draughts or Dreamless Sleep too, but wizards tweak the prep accordingly."
Compared to the young witches and wizards' frantic flubs—wrong doses, botched clippings, mistimed soaks—Sean's work looked downright professional. Under the professor's guidance, a cluster of puzzled Ravenclaws and Slytherins gathered round him to learn.
All the while...
The system's prompts kept chiming.