After reading Andrew's letter, Sterling remained silent for a long moment, then carefully folded it into a small square and tucked it between the pages of his textbook.
He could clearly sense that Andrew was afraid.
Just as Andrew had written, he was someone who couldn't perform magic and could no longer protect Sterling. He felt deeply insecure now, constantly worried that something terrible might happen to Sterling while he was alone at Hogwarts.
Sterling realised he had no choice but to write more frequent letters in the future to reassure his guardian... but what exactly was a Howler? Andrew had mentioned that Sterling would definitely "enjoy" it?
"Our next class is Potions," Hermione announced, now clutching her copy of "One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi".
She appeared far more nervous about this particular class than she had been for Transfiguration or Charms. This was primarily because the senior student they'd spoken with the previous evening had looked at them with genuine pity upon hearing about their upcoming Potions class. He had sighed heavily and patted their shoulders sympathetically.
It was as if they weren't heading to a normal class but embarking on a hellish journey straight from Dante's Inferno.
Since that ominous encounter, Hermione had dedicated herself completely to gathering intelligence about Potions class. Unfortunately, the information she collected was nothing like what she'd hoped to discover. It was far from the "that senior was obviously joking" result she desperately wanted.
"If there's some clueless, clumsy student, they'll ruin the entire Potions class for everyone. Stay far away from the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor work tables," Penelope had warned them seriously.
"Professor Snape... he shows excessive favouritism toward Slytherin students. I mean, if he hadn't consistently awarded extra points to Slytherin while equally deducting points from the other three Houses, we would have already reclaimed the House Cup from Slytherin ages ago!"
Robert had delivered this statement with a genuinely fierce expression.
"Hermione, you really should try to relax a bit. Think about it logically. Your performances in both Transfiguration and Charms classes were absolutely excellent."
During yesterday's Transfiguration and Charms lessons, Hermione had earned an impressive twenty additional points for Ravenclaw, which explained why Robert and Penelope had happily spent their free time answering her endless questions.
As for Sterling, he had fallen slightly behind in the point-earning department. He hadn't received any bonus points during Charms because their first lesson had involved only the professor demonstrating proper wand movements and various pronunciations of incantations. There had been no practical spellcasting segment.
Since he preferred not to raise his hand for theoretical questions, naturally no points had been awarded.
"But Prefect Robert specifically said that Professor Snape will definitely give us an extremely hard time and deduct points from Ravenclaw!"
Hermione anxiously recited a seemingly endless list of herb names from memory. The senior Ravenclaw students at their breakfast table appeared quite accustomed to her nervous behaviour and completely ignored her frantic studying, peacefully munching their toast.
Sterling painfully covered his face with both hands. Fortunately, Hermione should calm down once she has completed all her first classes. Otherwise, his ears would truly suffer permanent damage.
"Have you considered that since the class is supposedly designed to be difficult, do you honestly believe answering questions correctly will be sufficient to avoid losing points?"
Hermione was completely stumped by this logical question, her eyebrows knitting together in concentration.
"...Professor Snape is still a professor..."
"I don't think he would be petty enough to simply deduct points for incorrect answers. Robert's facial expression looked as if he wanted to hex Snape immediately. Good morning, Neville."
Sterling left Hermione, who was now bowing her head in deep contemplation, and moved over to chat with Neville, who had just finished his breakfast.
Since Andrew had absolutely refused to allow him to develop a long-range observation spell for studying Harry, Sterling was forced to use more traditional, clumsy methods to gather information.
While engaging in casual conversation with Neville about daily life in the Gryffindor common room, Sterling managed to piece together the recent activities of what he privately called the "Saviour Squad" through Neville's innocent responses.
Wait, was that description perhaps a bit too dramatic?
His conscience briefly returned to trouble him, but he quickly dismissed those concerns with the thought, "All for the sake of artistic inspiration. Harry wouldn't mind."
After saying goodbye to Neville, Sterling and Hermione followed the majority of first-year Ravenclaw students toward their Potions classroom. The location was quite far from the Great Hall, and according to multiple warnings, Professor Snape absolutely despised tardiness.
According to Robert's cautionary tale, a certain young Ravenclaw had once arrived five minutes late and immediately lost fifteen House points as punishment.
Hermione didn't recite textbook passages while walking this time. She clearly believed Sterling's logical reasoning, and her face showed obvious relief and acceptance.
Since point deductions appeared to be completely unavoidable, they could only resign themselves to accepting the inevitable.
Sterling smiled as Hermione playfully thumped his arm twice in mock irritation.
The Potions classroom was located deep in the castle's basement levels. The closer they approached their destination, the noticeably colder the air became, while faint, sharp chemical odours drifted past their noses.
This environment perfectly matched the typical image that Muggles held of wizards boiling lizard toes and spider eyes in enormous cauldrons... Sterling had actually noticed that those two particular items were indeed common ingredients in many potion recipes.
Ravenclaws maintained their habitual tendency of arriving early for classes. This particular lesson was shared with Hufflepuff students. The Badgers obviously preferred showing up precisely on time rather than early. The enormous classroom currently held only a handful of young Eagles and Badgers.
"Am I sitting with Terry again for this class?"
Sterling asked Hermione directly. She had refused to partner with him for both Transfiguration and Charms, concerned that his advanced abilities might negatively affect her own academic performance.
"Are you absolutely certain your potion-brewing skills are at a normal wizard level?"
"I've never attempted brewing potions in the Muggle world."
Hermione squinted suspiciously, clearly trying to judge whether he was being completely truthful.
"Very well, then." She placed her textbook beside Sterling's workspace and glanced toward the storage lockers lining the walls, which contained a large, preserved eyeball floating in mysterious liquid. She quickly looked away in obvious disgust.
Sterling smiled to himself. He had indeed never brewed potions in the Muggle world because all his extensive brewing experience had been gained within the dream realm.
While he had initially worried whether potion-making methods from the dream world would be applicable in reality, after thoroughly discussing the matter with Vivian and receiving her absolute assurance that his techniques were completely authentic, Sterling no longer harboured any concerns.
Standard textbooks were merely beginner-level references. Genuine potion masters obviously developed their own personal brewing habits and techniques. He had been apprenticed to the Fairy Godmother herself, making him the legitimate heir to the ancient Fairy-style potion traditions.
If he wasn't destined to be a potion genius, who else could possibly claim that title?
Today, he was absolutely determined to thoroughly shock Hermione and demonstrate the price for laughing at him about "fainting after falling off a chair".
Recalling the previous evening's light-hearted conversation with Hermione and her dormmate neighbour, Sterling's gaze sharpened with renewed determination.
The Hufflepuff students gradually entered the classroom in small groups, none arriving late. They appeared somewhat wary and nervous, presumably already informed about Professor Snape's fearsome reputation by their upperclassmen.
The class bell rang ominously, and billowing black smoke suddenly surged into the room.
Snape's voluminous black robes truly resembled a rolling cloud of dark smoke or even a massive bat. After his dramatic entrance, the heavy classroom door slammed shut with a resounding "THUD".
His hawklike nose twitched as he scanned the cowering, nervous young wizards, methodically checking names off his attendance list one by one.
"Excellent. No absences in my class."
His low, grave voice made the already gloomy atmosphere feel significantly heavier and more oppressive.
"You are here to learn the precise science and exacting art of potion brewing," Snape announced in barely above a whisper. If not for the fact that everyone was too intimidated to make even the slightest sound, they would have needed to lean forward to hear him properly.
"Here, since there is no foolish waving of wands, many of you will undoubtedly question whether this truly constitutes magic. I do not expect you to genuinely appreciate the subtle beauty of simmering cauldrons emitting delicate, fragrant steam, or understand the wondrous magic that flows through your bloodstream, causing fascination and blissful dreams... I can teach you how to capture fame, brew liquid glory, and even temporarily forestall death itself. But only if you are not among the dunderheads I frequently encounter."
As he pronounced the word "Dunderheads", Snape's penetrating gaze flickered meaningfully toward the Hufflepuff students.
Before the Ravenclaws could relax with relief, his sharp, calculating gaze shifted directly to them, as if issuing a clear warning that Ravenclaw students were definitely not exempt from his definition of "Dunderheads".
Snape waved his wand with practised efficiency, and a long series of chalk writing appeared instantly on the blackboard behind him. He directed them to the specific chapter covering the preparation of a basic scab-healing potion.
After delivering only the most basic instructions, he commanded everyone to proceed to the back of the classroom to collect their required ingredients and begin the brewing process immediately. Potions was fundamentally a practice-intensive subject.
Hermione watched Sterling with growing suspicion as he confidently handled the dried snake fangs.
Observing the fangs, which varied dramatically in size and bore absolutely no resemblance to the "fine powder" that Professor Snape had specifically emphasised in the textbook, Hermione couldn't help but voice her concerns.
"Is this approach really correct? Professor Snape didn't provide such instructions moments ago... This technique isn't mentioned anywhere in our textbook."
"Absolutely fine. Trust me completely. This represents my own personally discovered secret potion-making method learnt from a true master. A master's advanced techniques and student textbooks are always fundamentally different."
Observing Sterling's supreme confidence, Hermione found herself half-convinced by his reasoning.
Sterling waved his hand dramatically and tossed all the roughly "powdered" venomous fangs directly into their violently boiling cauldron.
Suddenly, an alarming number of ominous black bubbles erupted violently from the potion, popping with loud, threatening sounds. The entire cauldron began shaking dangerously, clearly threatening to explode catastrophically.
A swift spell flew across the room and completely cleared their entire cauldron of its contents.
Professor Snape's dark eyes gleamed with unmistakably dangerous intent. He strode toward them menacingly, his billowing black robes rolling like storm clouds. In Sterling's terrified perception, he clearly resembled a vengeful demon.
"Sterling Page! Hermione Granger!"
It was completely over. The self-proclaimed potion genius was about to meet his downfall here in this very Potions classroom.