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After another three minutes, Professor Snape called out the next step right on time. Several students groaned with frustration, their potions not ground finely enough—including Percy Weasley, who muttered a disheartened sigh.
Moriarty, however, stayed composed. Following his own detailed instructions, he carefully added the crushed ingredients into the crucible, stirred clockwise three times, and heated it for twenty minutes. With practiced ease, he waved his wand, wrapping the crucible in a shimmering sheath of magical energy to ensure thorough interaction with the potion base.
"Now," Snape's sharp voice echoed, "start the timer. Simmer for sixty minutes."
While the professor retreated from the podium, overseeing students from a distance, Moriarty turned slightly and whispered to Lilith, "Notice anything? I'm using a gold cauldron."
Lilith raised a brow. "So what? I use one too," she said proudly, flipping her hair. "Is that supposed to be impressive?"
"The boiling time adjusts depending on the material of the cauldron," Moriarty explained in a low tone.
Lilith narrowed her eyes. "The professor didn't say that."
"That's because nearly everyone uses copper cauldrons," Moriarty said, casting his gaze around the room. Then he fixed his eyes on Lilith's and added, "Gold cauldrons conduct heat better. That, along with pre-ground ingredients, reduces the simmering time by about fifteen minutes. I'll finish exactly when class ends—forty-five minutes total."
Lilith clicked her tongue, brushing her hair behind her ear again. "Okay, fine, you're brilliant." But despite the flippant tone, a flicker of frustration crossed her face.
She pursed her lips. If he finished the potion successfully first, she'd already be behind. But this was only the first stage. The swelling solution still required the careful addition of a bat spleen—her chance to regain the lead.
With newfound determination, Lilith straightened her shoulders and grinned. "Just wait, I'm going to surpass you in the next stage."
She lowered her head, scanning her textbook with laser focus, determined not to miss a single detail.
Meanwhile, Jericho snorted. "Admit it, Miss Lilith, you can't beat Moriarty. Me, I just follow his lead—it's an art form. Improv imitation! It's like… a form of learning."
His smugness was abruptly silenced by a loud BANG!
Everyone turned. Keith's cauldron had exploded, sending shards and potion in every direction. His arm had ballooned grotesquely, swelling with a speed visible to the naked eye.
Moriarty acted instantly. With a sharp flick of his wand, the airborne potion was encased in water-elemental magic, freezing midair and dropping as harmless ice crystals.
Keith screamed, belatedly realizing the pain. "AAAH! Oh Merlin—it hurts!"
"Idiot!" Snape stormed forward, black robes billowing like a thundercloud. "You crushed your ingredients like Moriarty did, but failed to bind the magic properly! Your spellwork is pathetic. If that had been a complete swelling solution, your arm would resemble a Quidditch bludger!"
He reached for Keith's shoulder, intending to escort him to the hospital wing. But Keith jerked away, eyes wild.
"I'm sick of this!" he roared. "Every lesson, you insult me! You say my steps are wrong, but you never explain properly! I know what this is—payback! Because I interrupted you last class! You're petty and cruel! You should be sacked, thrown out of Hogwarts for good!"
The room fell silent. Students gawked as Keith, one arm grotesquely large, stood trembling with fury.
Snape's expression darkened to something dangerous. His face twitched, contorting with restrained rage. For a moment, Moriarty thought he resembled a vindictive spirit from Muggle television.
But Snape wasn't just theatrical—he had magic.
Without a word, he raised his wand. Keith's mouth sealed shut—literally. His lips fused together with a soft pop.
Snape shoved him toward the door. "Thirty points from Slytherin! Keith, you're confined and suspended pending disciplinary action. I'll be writing to your grandfather. He'll collect you personally."
His voice was low and cold, eerily calm. With another wave of his wand, he summoned a roll of parchment, tapped it to scribe a few sharp lines, and sealed it with a flick.
"Ralbo!" he barked.
A Slytherin prefect sprang to attention.
"Escort this idiot to the Hospital Wing. Then deliver him to the Headmaster's Office. Password: honey toffee."
The parchment floated to Ralbo's outstretched hand. Snape turned back to Keith, eyes blazing. "Keep your mouth shut and swallow those filthy words. Let this be your lesson."
Then, his voice rising, he announced with unwavering intensity, "I, Severus Snape, Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House, formally recommend the expulsion of second-year Keith. You heard me right. Expulsion."
Keith let out a muffled sob, trying in vain to speak. When he realized he couldn't, he gave Snape a glare full of venom… then wilted into silence.
Snape returned to his seat, breathing heavily. No one dared speak. A high-pitched whistle broke the silence—Moriarty's gold cauldron signaling it had finished brewing.
Everyone turned to look. Moments ago, Moriarty had declared it would take exactly forty-five minutes. And here it was—precisely on time.
Students held their breath, waiting. But Snape said nothing.
One minute passed.
Just as they began to doubt, Snape's voice boomed: "Why are you still sitting here? Waiting for your next class? Looking forward to brewing antidotes with fourth-year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws to fix your rotting brains?"
With that, the classroom erupted into chaos. Students scrambled to pack up, their movements comically fast compared to their sluggish entrance.
In a matter of seconds, only Moriarty, Lilith, and Jericho remained. They exchanged bewildered glances.
Moriarty carefully capped his swelling potion and stored it. As they approached the door, they noticed Snape's still-tense expression and quickened their pace.
Once outside the dungeons, Lilith exhaled deeply. "Thank Merlin. For a second, I thought Professor Snape was going to curse Keith into next week."
Jericho nodded solemnly. "No joke. His wand was trembling. If Keith weren't a student, we might've seen a real duel!"
"That's not even the worst part," Moriarty added, walking briskly. "He insulted Snape. Out loud. No one does that unless they want to disappear from the wizarding world altogether."
Lilith and Jericho fell silent.
Moriarty concluded grimly, "After dinner, we're checking the Hospital Wing. Something's definitely wrong with Keith."
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