Ethan left the Potions classroom with Neville by his side, the other students already heading off to lunch.
Neville's face was as red as a Weasley's hair, and he was muttering apologies under his breath.
"I'm really sorry, Ethan," Neville mumbled, his eyes fixed firmly on the floor as they walked.
"Relax, Nev," I said softly, giving him a reassuring smile. "It happens. Potions is… tricky."
"Tricky?" Neville's voice cracked, and he looked up, his face full of misery. "I melted a cauldron! On the first day!"
I chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "Look, Snape's always looking for someone to pick on. If it wasn't you, it would've been me."
Neville didn't look convinced, but at least the panic in his eyes seemed to lessen.
"Poor guy's terrified. Can't blame him, though."
As we approached the infirmary, I couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for Neville. Potions had been a disaster, and Snape's unfairness hadn't helped.
Madam Pomfrey met us at the door, her sharp eyes narrowing as she took in Neville's anxious expression and the faint traces of potion residue on his robes.
"Another one?" she sighed, ushering us inside. "Honestly, Professor Snape should know better than to let you lot near volatile ingredients on the first day."
I bit back a grin as I watched Madam Pomfrey fuss over Neville like a mother hen, her wand flicking expertly as she guided him to a nearby cot.
"Sit down, dear," she said gently, patting Neville's shoulder. "You'll be fine in no time."
Neville's expression was still a mixture of embarrassment and relief, but he managed a small, grateful smile as he glanced at me.
"Don't worry, Nev," I said softly, giving him a reassuring nod. "I'll see you at lunch."
"Thanks, Ethan," Neville murmured as he lay back, looking visibly more relaxed now.
I gave him one last reassuring look before slipping out of the infirmary, my mind already racing with thoughts about the next class—and the unsettling feeling that had been gnawing at me all day.
By the time I made it to lunch, the Great Hall was bustling with students, the clatter of cutlery and murmur of conversation filling the air. I spotted Ron and Rose already sitting at our usual spot, deep in conversation.
"Alright, Carter?" Ron asked, looking up as I dropped into the seat beside him.
"Yeah," I said, grabbing a pumpkin pasty. "Neville's fine. Madam Pomfrey's looking after him."
"Poor bloke," Ron muttered, shaking his head. "First day and Snape's already breathing down his neck."
"Could've been worse," I murmured. "At least he didn't blow up the whole dungeon."
Ron snorted but didn't argue.
As I ate, my mind kept drifting back to Potions. Snape's reaction to Rose… the intensity in his eyes… it was more than just favoritism toward Slytherins.
"Focus on what's ahead."
I pushed those thoughts aside. I'd have time to think about Snape later. For now, I had another class to get through.
The greenhouses behind the castle smelled strongly of damp earth and fresh herbs. Professor Sprout, a stout witch with a wide-brimmed hat and dirt under her fingernails, stood waiting by a row of potted plants.
"Ah, first-years!" she said cheerfully. "Today, we'll be working with Puffapods!"
My curiosity was piqued. I'd read about them—seeds that exploded into flowers if dropped. It sounded harmless enough… but I knew Hogwarts had a way of making even the simplest things unpredictable.
"Be careful not to let them touch the ground," Professor Sprout warned, her eyes twinkling.
I carefully picked up a pale pink Puffapod from the tray in front of me. It felt delicate, like holding a bubble that could pop at any moment.
"Easy enough…" I murmured, turning the seed gently in my hand.
But naturally…
BOOM.
Seamus dropped his Puffapod.
Bright pink flowers erupted everywhere, showering half the class in petals.
"Bloody hell, Seamus," Ron muttered, wiping petals off his head.
I grinned. "That's… one way to get results."
But inside, I was feeling… something else. Handling the Puffapod had stirred a different sensation within me. The warmth of the seed, the faint pulse of life within it—it reminded me of the energy I felt when channeling my powers.
"Focus, Ethan," I murmured, steadying my hands.
Beside me, Rose was handling her Puffapod with delicate precision. Her hands moved with an almost natural grace, her expression one of quiet concentration.
I couldn't help but watch her, a small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.
"Show-off," I teased softly.
"Jealous?" Rose shot back, her green eyes sparkling with amusement.
"Maybe a little," I admitted with a wink.
But my competitive side kicked in. I wasn't about to let her outshine me. Carefully, I followed the steps, replicating her movements with perfect accuracy. My Puffapod bloomed just as beautifully—perhaps even more vibrant than hers.
Rose raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed.
"Not bad, Carter," she murmured with a grin.
"Beginner's luck," I quipped, but there was a spark of pride in my eyes.
By the time we headed to Defense Against the Dark Arts, my good mood had faded.
The sight of Professor Quirrell's twitchy form at the front of the classroom made my stomach twist.
"He's here."
"Voldemort is here."
My jaw clenched, my gaze flickering between Quirrell and the turban.
"I know he's hiding behind that turban. I know what's underneath."
I had to be careful. I couldn't let on that I knew. Not yet.
But one thing was certain.
"I can't rely on Hogwarts alone to protect me."
If Voldemort was already so close, hidden in plain sight, I had no choice.
"I have to learn. Faster. Stronger."
My mind flashed to the books in the Restricted Section. Spells. Curses. Defense.
"I need to be ready."
Because if Voldemort was this close now…
The real battle was coming.
"C-c-can anyone name a simple charm that can p-protect against minor hexes?" Quirrell asked, his eyes scanning the room.
Ron's hand shot up before I could even blink.
My stomach dropped.
"Oh no…"
"It's… um… Scourgify… right?" Ron said hesitantly.
The room went silent.
"Scourgify?" Rose whispered, her lips twitching. "That's… a cleaning charm…"
Hermione's face was a picture of horror, and I…
I lost it.
A snort escaped before I could stop it, quickly followed by a cough to cover it up.
Ron's ears went bright red. "I mean… clean robes can… scare off hexes… sometimes…"
"R-right…" Quirrell looked just as confused as the rest of the class.
My shoulders shook with suppressed laughter, but I couldn't meet Ron's eyes without bursting.
"Brilliant, Ron," I murmured under my breath, barely holding it together.
"Shut up," Ron hissed, slouching lower in his seat.
By the time the day ended, I felt like I had lived through a week's worth of chaos.
As the common room buzzed with excited chatter that evening, my mind was elsewhere.
"I need answers… and I'm not going to get them sitting here."
My eyes flickered toward the portrait hole. The library was calling to me.
"Restricted Section…"
My jaw tightened as determination settled over me.
"If I want to stand a chance… I need to start learning. Now."
With one last glance at my friends, I made up my mind.
Tonight, I was going to the library.