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Chapter - 7: Building Friendships
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Daphne Greengrass POV
As we walked through the corridors of Hogwarts, heading to our next class, Tracey turned to me with a thoughtful expression, slightly biting her lower lip—an unmistakable sign that she had something on her mind.
"So, do we seriously want to let him join our group?" she asked, a certain hesitation in her voice.
I raised an eyebrow, maintaining a detached air. "It's a possibility," I commented nonchalantly, but inside, I was evaluating every aspect of the matter.
It wasn't a decision to be taken lightly.
Tracey crossed her arms, throwing me a skeptical look. "Doesn't it seem like a decision made too quickly? We've only been talking to him for, what, a few weeks?"
Before I could respond, Blaise took the opportunity to express his opinion—something he always did when it came to social dynamics within our House. "But you have to admit, it was really great seeing Malfoy put in his place."
I thought back to the scene the night before in the Common Room when Theodore Nott had sharply responded to Draco, without batting an eye, with such an impassive air that it was almost unsettling.
Draco was used to being feared—or at the very least, respected—but Theodore didn't seem to grant him either of those privileges. There had been a palpable tension in the air, and even I had been surprised by the way Theodore had handled the situation.
Not everyone could stand up to Malfoy without being intimidated by his name or his circle of sycophants.
Tracey chimed in. "Damn right! And his face was priceless. I wish I had my phone to record everything! Too bad wizards in Britain don't have YouTube."
Blaise turned to me with a raised eyebrow. "Phone? You mean that device you were talking about, the one with all those strange functions?"
She nodded. "Yes, exactly. It has so many possibilities—it can take pictures, record videos, browse the web... One day, I'll have to show you. You'd be surprised how many interesting things exist in the Muggle world."
Blaise seemed intrigued. "You absolutely must. Despite everything that's said about Muggles, it seems like they've found ingenious ways to work around the lack of magic."
I nodded at his words, reflecting on how strange it was that there was an entirely different part of the world that I had never seen.
"Back to the point, what do you guys think of him?" I asked, considering that listening to others' opinions before making rash decisions was a fundamental quality of a good leader.
Tracey giggled, bringing me back to the present. "Well, from what I've seen, he seems intelligent… maybe even too much." She placed a finger on her chin, thinking. "And I have to admit, he's really handsome, and his gaze..."
I turned slightly toward her, intrigued. "His gaze?"
Tracey nodded enthusiastically, her eyes sparkling with playful mischief. "Yes, like he sees through you, like he understands things we can't even imagine."
Blaise chuckled quietly, shaking his head. "You should stop reading those so-called comics, Tracey. They're influencing you too much."
But I wasn't so sure it was just Tracey's imagination, given that Theodore always had an elusive air about him, as if he were constantly lost in thoughts none of us could ever access.
He was a silent but impactful presence in important moments, and although he wasn't particularly social, he possessed a sharp intelligence and a coldness that made him a good ally.
I didn't respond immediately, letting the conversation flow between my friends while I pondered. The idea of including him in our group made sense in many ways.
We weren't just a simple circle of Slytherin students who spent free time together; our group represented a strategic alliance within the House.
We had influence, connections, and a certain degree of power among our peers. Malfoy had his clique, sure, but our group wasn't built on a prestigious surname.
"Daphne?" Tracey's voice brought me back to reality. She had stopped a few steps ahead and was looking at me curiously. "You're thinking about something, aren't you?"
I met her gaze and gave a slight nod. "Just some considerations. Theodore is intelligent, no one can deny that. And the fact that he doesn't let Malfoy intimidate him shows that he has character. He could be a good asset to the group."
Blaise nodded slowly, a thoughtful expression on his face. "You know, he's quite independent. He doesn't seem interested in the usual House dynamics or in forming alliances out of convenience. He seems like someone who prefers to do things his own way."
I observed him for a moment, catching a hint of curiosity in his words. "Maybe that's the point. He doesn't just follow the tide, and that makes him interesting, doesn't it?"
Theodore was different from the others. He wasn't swept up in the House dynamics for convenience, nor did he blindly align himself with anyone. He wasn't like Pansy Parkinson, who orbited around Draco for prestige, nor like Crabbe and Goyle, who followed orders without a second thought.
Blaise smirked slightly, as if he liked the idea. "Yeah… in a way, it's refreshing. He's not like the others."
Tracey sighed, twirling a lock of her brown hair around her finger. "Then we should test him. See how he reacts to being in a group."
Blaise looked at her with an enigmatic smile. "And how do you plan to do that?"
"By getting to know him better," I answered, taking control of the conversation. "Observing him, studying how he moves, who he talks to, what he really wants. We won't do anything rash, but we also won't dismiss the idea outright."
My friends nodded, a sign that they agreed with the plan. In the end, none of us were impulsive when it came to matters that could lead to betrayal.
We were all heirs to our respective families, carrying expectations and responsibilities on our shoulders that didn't allow us to make mistakes.
[Interlude]
Theodore Nott POV
I had been waiting for the professor inside the classroom for a while, and since it was mandatory to be in our assigned house seats, I spent most of the time alone. Many of the first-year students had decided to avoid me after my argument with Malfoy.
Not that it surprised me in the slightest; it was within my expectations since Malfoy's father had been closer to Riddle. But it was only a matter of time before things returned to normal once they realized that I wouldn't receive any consequences.
Unfortunately for them, this wasn't possible in Potions class, as all classroom exercises were done in pairs, meaning that some unlucky person had to be my partner.
In the meantime, I observed the first-year Slytherin students making their way towards the classroom, mingling with students from the lesser houses.
Many continued to whisper and throw furtive glances in her direction. "The Girl Who Lived." Even though weeks had passed since the start of the school year, the attention on her showed no signs of fading.
And, in all honesty, I couldn't blame them. She was beautiful—the kind of beauty that didn't go unnoticed—and everyone seemed eager to attract her attention.
She had long red hair that cascaded in soft waves over her shoulders, gleaming like flames under the flickering candlelight. Her eyes, a deep and piercing green, were almost hypnotic—so similar to her mother's.
I could see Draco frowning slightly, his mood darkening as he watched the celebrity among us. It wasn't just her fame that bothered him—it was the way everyone seemed to orbit around her, like moths drawn to a flame, completely ignoring anyone else.
Especially after he had tried to befriend her only to fail spectacularly. Thinking back to that moment, I couldn't help but smile.
Not that he would ever admit it, of course. Malfoy didn't lose; he didn't get rejected. And yet, that time, Harriet Potter had simply turned her back on him, leaving him there with an incredulous expression.
Soon after, Professor Snape entered the classroom with his usual "dramatic" walk, his cloak billowing behind him as he began to explain the day's lesson in his cold and sharp tone.
I shivered slightly. The strange love-hate dynamic between Snape and Harriet Potter was known to everyone, and to be honest, it made me uncomfortable since I knew much more than others.
It almost seemed as if he took sadistic pleasure in prodding her at every opportunity, as if he were just waiting for an excuse to put her in difficulty—or rather, to make her spend more time with him.
I imagine that The Girl Who Lived would rather face an entire horde of magical creatures than endure Snape's attention once again.
After that, he started pairing everyone up and assigned us the task of brewing a Forgetfulness Potion, which caused an unknown degree of memory loss in the drinker.
Daphne and Tracey had been assigned to the same team, while I was paired with Blaise. I observed the others in the room as they joined their respective partners, the buzz of voices filling the air.
It was one of the rare occasions when the famous Golden Trio found themselves separated. Harriet had been paired with Ron, which meant they would likely have a rough time given their respective weaknesses in this subject.
Meanwhile, Hermione was working with an older girl with long and beautiful orange braids tied into a plait and blue eyes, a dusting of freckles sprinkled across the bridge of her nose.
Susan Bones. However, I only recognized her by her face. She was a bit taller than I remembered, though not by much, but she had changed quite a bit in some ways.
Susan Bones had always been somewhat "chubby." Although that didn't diminish her appearance—especially with how large her breasts were—it was undeniable that she had a bit of extra flesh on her bones.
I averted my gaze from her and focused on Blaise. I stared at him firmly and, without wasting time, said in a decisive tone, "I'll handle this. Follow my lead and do exactly as I say."
Was I a bit arrogant? Most likely, yes, but at that moment, I didn't care. As long as he followed my instructions, I was sure we would achieve an excellent result.
And besides, it was also a good opportunity to prove that I wasn't just someone to be talked about behind my back, but someone worth befriending.
Blaise looked at me with a doubtful expression, and for a moment, he seemed to consider what to say. "I know you're very skilled in theoretical subjects, but no offense… Do you have practical experience in potion-making? My mother taught me personally, so I can say I have a certain mastery of the subject."
I noticed his skepticism, and for a moment, I felt tense, but I forced myself to remain calm. Without breaking eye contact, I responded smoothly, "I understand your point of view, but I assure you that I never leave anything to chance. I prefer to achieve the best possible result, and if you follow me, I'm certain we'll do an excellent job. You'll see that you won't be disappointed."
Blaise seemed to reflect for another moment, probably trying to assess whether it was a good idea to trust me. But in the end, he nodded slowly.
It was clear that my performance in various school subjects, and the reputation I had built up to that point, had convinced him not to object further.
So, without further objections, he got to work, trusting that, at least for the moment, my expertise would be enough to make a difference.
Not that it surprised me—he wasn't a leader, at least not yet, but more of a competent subordinate. Naturally, things could change over time, but for now, he was perfect for me.
I gathered all my equipment to set up the workstation. The tools listed in the letter were simple, but that was understandable since we were still in our first year.
Most of the students had no experience in potion-making. Buying more advanced equipment would have been a waste of money, but not for me.
"I'll get the ingredients. Wait here and don't touch anything," I said seriously.
Order is essential for a job well done.
I headed to the ingredient counter, and after a careful selection, I picked the best ones available. The recipe required only four ingredients, but one must never underestimate the importance of always being prepared for anything.
"This seems doable," I muttered to myself as I began heating the cauldron. I immediately got to work, paying close attention to the initial stages of potion preparation.
It seemed almost silly to say, but I realized that potion-making was surprisingly similar to cooking. The way ingredients were measured, the waiting times, even the importance of the right temperature to prepare a perfect dish.
The only difference was that here, a small mistake wouldn't just ruin the taste; it could make the result completely useless, or even dangerous.
With a steady hand, I took the small glass vial containing the River Lethe Water and carefully tilted it over my cauldron, watching as two clear drops fell into the dark liquid, dissolving almost instantly.
I slightly lowered the flame under the cauldron, allowing the mixture to warm gently. I counted mentally to twenty, ensuring the temperature increased gradually without reaching the critical point that could alter the potion's properties.
Once I was sure the heat was sufficient, I delicately took four valerian sprigs and immersed them in the cauldron. The slightly earthy and relaxing aroma of the roots mixed with the steam rising from the surface, a sign that the ingredients were beginning to blend properly.
I focused, carefully watching every small change in the color and consistency of the liquid, ready to intervene at the first sign of instability.
The potion wasn't particularly complex, but it required precision and patience since even a small mistake could ruin everything.
Next to me, Blaise continued to watch me with a skeptical expression as I worked. "What are you doing? The book says to add two sprigs of valerian, not more."
I didn't even look up from the cauldron, "If we had high-quality ingredients, two would be enough. But these are average, so I decided to compensate." He remained silent for a moment, probably processing my explanation, while I moved on to the next step.
I slid the spoon into the dark liquid, stirring slowly and with concentration. After three rotations, I took my wand and gave it a quick shake, bringing the heat back to the optimal temperature.
The magic spread gently through the cauldron, interacting with the ingredients and enhancing the properties of those we had added earlier.
A moment later, a light cloud of smoke rose from the potion, a clear sign that the process was working. I nodded with satisfaction, lowering the flame slightly to maintain the stability of the mixture. Now all that was left was to let it infuse and check back in 45-60 minutes.
Blaise crossed his arms, watching me from the side with a thoughtful expression. "You know, you're more logical and meticulous than I thought."
I barely glanced up at him, a hint of a smile on my lips. "Better to be meticulous than risk blowing up the cauldron, don't you think?"
He huffed, as if not wanting to agree with me openly, but he didn't say anything else. However, I noticed how his eyes lingered on the potion that was taking shape—it was clear that he was curious to see the result of our work.
Meanwhile, Professor Snape moved between the desks with his usual slow, intimidating pace, handing out sharp criticisms left and right.
Snape didn't just reprimand the students—he openly humiliated them, and the Gryffindors seemed to be his favorite target.
"Pathetic," he hissed as he stopped next to Neville's desk, eyeing his cauldron with an expression of pure disgust. "If this were a real Forgetfulness Potion, the patient would already be in a coma."
Neville lowered his gaze, nervously gripping the ladle in his hands, while a tense silence fell around us. It was always the same story: Snape didn't just point out mistakes, he turned them into a public spectacle of humiliation.
He didn't even bother suggesting how to correct the errors. He simply destroyed every shred of confidence in his students, leaving them in total confusion.
I glanced briefly at his expression as he moved away, and for a moment I wondered if he truly enjoyed treating us this way, or if it was just his nature.
Before continuing with my work, my eyes landed on Harriet's potion, clearly not going very well. Not that I was surprised, considering the poor education she'd received, not to mention her useless companion beside her.
After a brief moment of reflection, weighing the possible long-term benefits, I approached her table with a neutral expression. I carefully observed the contents of Harriet's cauldron, trying to identify any errors.
It didn't take long for something to catch my attention: the liquid had a slightly cloudy tint, a clear sign that something hadn't gone as planned.
I quickly analyzed the situation and, unable to hold myself back, murmured in a measured tone, "You got the temperature wrong when you added the valerian roots. It should have been slightly lower to avoid an unstable reaction."
Harriet looked up at me, a calm smile on her lips. "I know, Hermione pointed it out… too late. But I still wanted to try to finish it, just to not give Snape any satisfaction."
I nodded, as several solutions overlapped in my mind, looking for the most effective one. After a few seconds, I replied, "You can still fix it. Add a pinch of unicorn horn powder and let it rest before raising the temperature again. That should stabilize the mixture and recover some of the original effect."
Harriet stared at me in surprise for a moment, then an authentic smile curved her lips. "Thanks, I'll give it a try. If there's a chance to see Snape's annoyed face while I get a good result, then it's definitely worth a shot."
Next to her, Ron clenched his jaw, watching our conversation and throwing me a not-so-friendly glance. "We didn't need your help, you know?"
Harriet turned toward him, visibly irritated. "Come on, Ron, he's just trying to help us."
I sighed, trying to keep my tone neutral. "It was just an observation. It's up to you whether to follow it or not." I gave one last look at her cauldron, making sure everything was in order, then walked back to my station.
I made sure my mortar was clean before starting. With precise movements, I poured two scoops of Standard Ingredient into it, watching the fine powder settle at the bottom. Immediately afterward, I took four mistletoe berries and added them carefully, making sure not to crush them prematurely.
Grabbing the pestle, I began crushing the mixture with firm but controlled movements. The berries slowly crushed, releasing a faint aroma as they mixed with the Standard Ingredient.
I continued working until I obtained a powder of medium-fine consistency—neither too coarse to be ineffective nor too fine to alter the chemical reaction of the potion.
With care, I took two pinches of the freshly prepared mixture and let them fall into the cauldron. The liquid bubbled slightly upon contact, a sign that the fusion of ingredients was proceeding correctly.
I took the potion spoon and began stirring five times counterclockwise, maintaining a steady rhythm to avoid fluctuations in the reaction.
With each rotation, the color of the potion darkened slightly, taking on a more intense and even shade. Finally, I lifted my wand and gave it a precise shake over the cauldron, letting the magic permeate the liquid and complete the alchemical process.
A faint spark flickered on the surface of the potion before the mixture stabilized completely, and after a long observation, I nodded, satisfied with the result.
Blaise and I were the first to finish the potion successfully. Not that it was a surprise, but seeing Hermione's surprised expression was definitely satisfying.
Snape approached our table, observed the potion, and nodded with a satisfied air. "Top quality, as I would expect from someone in my house. But... I noticed you didn't follow all the instructions in the textbook."
I looked at him calmly. "No, sir. While the recipe is meant to be followed by as many people as possible, there are several variables that are not considered. The potion will be 'correct,' but its quality will change every time. I made adjustments to improve it."
"Very clever, Mr. Nott, thinking outside the box instead of following the instructions like a brainless idiot… 5 points to Slytherin." Snape said as he walked away to inspect the other students.
He moved on to inspect the other students while Blaise burst out laughing lightly. "Mate, that was incredible. I don't know how you managed to make a potion like that, but do you think you could give me some tips in the future?" Blaise asked, more relaxed than before.
I nodded with a slight smile, satisfied with the result. "Sure, Blaise. I don't mind sharing a few tricks. If you want, I can give some advice to Daphne and Tracey too. I'm sure they could benefit from it."
Blaise looked at me for a moment, then chuckled. "Ah, so now you're also a tutor?"
I shrugged with a relaxed expression. "Let's just say I like to see things done properly. If I can help someone improve, why not?"
He nodded, a hint of amusement in his gaze. "Interesting. Then maybe you and Daphne could organize something for our group."
"Sure, no problem," I replied with a smile. It was a good opportunity to strengthen the bonds within our circle, but for now, there was something more urgent to handle, the troll.
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Chapter- 16: Shocker - Chapter- 17 (Incoming)
Chapter - 12: Kisuke Urahara
Chapter - 7: Hobby - Chapter - 8: New Hunt - Chapter - 9: Past unknown
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