Snape stared at Dumbledore for a long moment before giving a stiff, almost imperceptible nod. He said nothing more, turning his sharp gaze to his students. "Sean. The rest of you Slytherins. With me. Now."
Without waiting for a response, Snape spun on his heel, his perpetually black robes billowing behind him like a storm cloud. He swept down the corridor and vanished around the corner in the blink of an eye.
Sean didn't hesitate, following at a brisk pace. The other Slytherins, including a visibly shaken Marcellus Bulstrode, hurried to keep up.
As the green-trimmed robes disappeared into the dungeons, the other Heads of House began to lead their own students away. Soon, only Dumbledore and a few professors remained at the scene, their hushed voices echoing in the empty corridor as they handled the grim aftermath.
Back in the dungeons, the Slytherin students filed into the common room. Sean, exhausted from his long night of brewing, was ready to head straight to his dorm and collapse.
But as he passed the entrance, Snape's voice cut through the relative quiet. "Sean. My office."
A wave of sympathetic glances washed over Sean from his housemates. Even within Slytherin, Snape was a figure that struck fear into students and ghosts alike.
Sean followed Snape into the familiar, dimly lit office lined with jars of grotesque specimens. "Professor," he began, "if you want to ask about what happened up there—"
A cold, thin smile touched Snape's lips. "Don't try to be clever, Sean. I have no interest in that matter. A foolish little girl wandering the halls at night gets herself petrified. I could not care less. What I want to know is why you were still wandering around at that hour." His voice dropped, laced with its usual venom. "Don't tell me it was for that brainless Savior, the boy whose skull was clearly stepped on by a troll."
Meeting his Head of House's withering glare, Sean quickly explained, "You've misunderstood, Professor. I didn't know Harry was there when I went."
Snape scrutinized him for a long moment, his face a mask of disapproval. "You are entirely too accommodating to that arrogant boy. But your personal associations are your own business. I don't care. If you weren't there for the Savior, then why were you out?"
"Professor, you know I have a business arrangement with Andy, so…"
"So you were brewing potions until that late?"
"Yes, Professor."
At this, the harsh lines around Snape's mouth seemed to relax, if only by a fraction. It was a change so subtle it would be invisible to most, but Sean recognized it for what it was: a sign of improved mood.
"Where are the potions you brewed?"
Sean hesitated, but one look at Snape's impatient expression had him producing the small bag enhanced with an Undetectable Extension Charm and handing it over.
Snape took the bag, his long fingers immediately recognizing the magic woven into it. The Ministry's regulations on such items were of no consequence to him. All he cared about was what was inside.
He opened the bag and began to examine the vials within. After several minutes of silent inspection, he looked up, his dark eyes sharp. "All of these… you brewed them between this afternoon and tonight?"
Sean nodded. "Yes, Professor."
An almost imperceptible twitch of Snape's eyebrow betrayed the surprise he felt. He had long known this student possessed a remarkable talent for Potions, but he hadn't expected this. The sheer stamina and precision required to produce such a quantity were astounding. While most were simple to mid-grade potions, brewing them step-by-step required immense focus. Even he, Snape admitted to himself, would find it a formidable task to accomplish in a single evening.
He had not factored in Sean's unique physical constitution. The enhanced strength and durability also came with a vast reserve of energy, allowing him to maintain concentration for five or six hours straight, far beyond the limits of an ordinary wizard.
Snape pulled out two of the vials, uncorked them, and took a small sample from each for analysis. The faint softening of his expression vanished, replaced by a renewed seriousness. "The quality of these potions," he stated, his voice flat. "It was deliberate, was it not?"
As expected, Sean thought. There's no hiding it from him.
He nodded helplessly. "Professor, I intentionally controlled the quality. I didn't brew them to their absolute best. I kept them just above standard grade—good enough to save time and energy, but still superior to what's sold in most apothecaries. I'm not trying to cheat our customers…"
Snape waved a dismissive hand, cutting him off. "That is irrelevant. I do not care about the quality of potions they purchase. What I care about is that you, Sean, can artificially control the quality of potions in such large quantities. It proves you have mastered the brewing process of these draughts to an exceptional degree. It means you are already capable of brewing them to their highest possible quality. That is what I care about."
Sean stared at his Head of House. His first thought wasn't about the praise, but the sheer number of words Snape had just uttered in one breath. Can Dumbledore even get him to talk that much? If you round up, doesn't that mean I just beat Dumbledore?
"Sean," Snape's voice cut through his thoughts, sharp as ever. "Have you begun preparing your thesis?"
"Yes, Professor, I've started," Sean answered immediately, his focus snapping back.
"The topic?"
"An improvement to the standard Invigoration Draught. My aim is to increase the duration of its effects while simultaneously reducing the brewing difficulty."
"The Invigoration Draught…" Snape murmured, a thoughtful look on his face. It was a common enough potion, one any NEWT-level student could brew, but consistency and quality were notoriously difficult to achieve. Most wizards simply bought it. If Sean could genuinely improve the formula, his thesis would undoubtedly be published in The Golden Cauldron. The financial implications alone would be immense.
Of course, that was all contingent on one, critical factor: Sean's research actually had to succeed.
[Chapter Complete]
***
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