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When Hodge pushed open the door to the Slytherin Head's office, Snape swung it shut behind him, cutting off the light from the corridor. He turned, fixing Hodge with an inscrutable stare, his voluminous robes swirling dramatically.
"Sit, Blackthorn."
A faint unease stirred in Hodge.
"What game are you playing?" Snape demanded without preamble.
The question was baffling. Hodge kept his tone carefully surprised, not confrontational. "Professor Snape, I'm not sure what you mean."
"Potter. Weasley." The names hissed through the Potions Master's teeth.
Now Hodge was genuinely confused.
"Ah," Snape said softly, "it seems you're still in the dark, aren't you? Let me enlighten you. Potter and Weasley defied me…"
Happens all the time, Hodge thought.
"They're always insolent, arrogant. I docked them twenty points…"
Ouch, tough break.
"Potter claimed they were only discussing your club's activities… your club…"
Hodge's brow furrowed, struggling to follow. Was Snape upset that he'd been hanging out with Harry? Unlikely. Snape's feelings toward Harry were a tangled mess—adoration for Harry's mother, loathing for his father—but surely he wouldn't care about something so trivial.
Then Snape's next words sent a chill down Hodge's spine.
"Slight flush of the face, easily swayed by words, mild emotional instability after consumption…" A smirk tugged at Snape's lips. "Do you know what that suggests, Mr. Blackthorn? A Calming Draught. Perhaps laced with a few drops of peppermint essence to sharpen focus… You can't fool a Potions Master."
Spot on. Hodge was speechless.
The potion had come from Eddie Carmichael, who'd been bragging to a first-year, Morag, about his exam tricks. He'd experimented with dozens of potions, including a Calming Draught.
Hodge had overheard, intrigued after reading about an improved version in the library. When Morag wandered off, skeptical, Hodge stopped Carmichael, bought the vial he'd been showing off, and later recreated it following the library's recipe. After testing it privately, he'd brought it to a club meeting.
That was the whole story.
The potion's effect was no different from calming candles, mirrors, or sound charms—just a way to create a mystical vibe. By all accounts, its effects should've worn off long before Harry and Ron left the meeting. More likely, Snape had provoked them. The professor was notoriously harsh, after all.
But Snape clearly didn't see himself that way, which led to this confrontation.
Thinking he'd cracked Snape's logic, Hodge explained, "Professor Snape, I told everyone at the club what the potion did—it was to help them immerse themselves. I tested it on myself first. I kept the dosage safe, I swear."
"Oh, your assurance," Snape echoed, voice dripping with disdain. "Perhaps Mr. Blackthorn believes that skimming a recipe from the library and testing it on himself makes everything permissible. How obvious—preparation justifies recklessness. Just like when you faced that troll."
"That's not the same thing."
"To me, it is," Snape said icily. "All for attention. No wonder you fit in with Potter and his ilk."
Hodge's temper flared, but he forced himself to stick to the facts. "I won't use the potion again, I promise. If it's points or detention, I'll take it up with Professor Flitwick—"
But Snape cut in abruptly. "Tell me, who put you up to this?"
"What?" Hodge was stunned. This was the real issue—Snape's true reason for cornering him.
"You're awfully close to Quirrell." Snape took a step closer, his dark eyes boring into Hodge. "A Squib student who suddenly awakens and a stammering, unpopular teacher—what a touching friendship. I bet he's been very helpful behind closed doors."
Hodge's consultations with Quirrell were deliberate, always in front of classmates after lessons to avoid private tutoring. "Quirrell's not the only unpopular one, Professor. At least he tries to be friendly," Hodge shot back coolly, stung by the word Squib. He stood to leave.
"Look into my eyes," Snape said suddenly.
The office blurred and vanished. Images flickered through Hodge's mind like a film reel—him guiding the club, explaining the intricacies of a Shrinking Charm—Stop, a sharp voice commanded.
Then, an extraordinary vision unfolded.
A surreal sea of clouds stretched before him, shimmering with bizarre colors and shapes. Some coiled like serpents in the sky; others hung like gossamer curtains, casting rosy hues; some stood rigid and gray, like towering pillars; others drifted in wispy tendrils.
When Hodge focused on one spot, the mist swirled into a vivid scene.
The office snapped back into focus.
Snape's eyes seemed to glow.
Legilimency! Snape suspected him of colluding with Quirrell, and with Harry tangled in the mix, he'd resorted to probing his mind. This was no joke—but if Snape wanted to snoop… Know Your Mind was right: Legilimency and Occlumency were a perfect pair. As Snape invaded his thoughts, Hodge's Occlumency kicked in instinctively.
His mind sharpened like never before. With a fleeting thought, he summoned a montage from his perspective: Snape cursing Harry's broom in midair; Snape docking points from Harry in the Great Hall; Snape sneering viciously while grading Harry's work…
Then, for good measure, Hodge fabricated a memory of a library rumor.
Heard Snape fancied a girl back in school, only to have her stolen away.
Impossible! Who'd fall for a greasy bat…
The mental intrusion collapsed. Thud! Snape staggered back, crashing into a shelf along the wall. Jars and vials rattled loudly, clinking in protest. He straightened, robes clinging awkwardly to his legs, looking utterly livid.
Barely containing his fury, Snape pointed at the door. "Get out."
"So that's Legilimency? I read about it in the library. Poking around in people's memories isn't exactly polite," Hodge couldn't resist taunting, half provoked by Snape's scorn for Squibs, half incensed by the mind invasion.
"Out!" Snape barked. "And your extra lessons are over."
The door slammed shut behind Hodge.
That night, lying in bed, Hodge replayed the day's events. What a wild ride—half ocean, half inferno. Snape was probably tossing and turning tonight, and Hodge grinned at the thought. Hope he's miserable.
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