"Excellent, absolutely excellent. It appears Mr. Page is eager to debunk a long-standing misconception that a Hatstall must necessarily be an outstanding student..."
Professor Snape loomed directly in front of Sterling, looking down at him with obvious disdain.
"Observe what you have accomplished! Black foam, violent explosions... Did you not grind those snake fangs into proper powder before adding them to your cauldron? Answer me immediately! Absolutely unbelievable! Did my explicit instructions on the blackboard, my verbal reminders, and the textbook's clear directions... all three separate warnings... not inspire you to exercise even the slightest care?"
His piercing gaze resembled someone studying a particularly disgusting slug.
"Compared to a typical Ravenclaw, your performance is more befitting a reckless Gryffindor... Clean up that cauldron immediately and begin again! Naturally, Ravenclaw loses fifteen points for blatantly ignoring the professor's explicit orders."
As Snape's intimidating figure retreated, Hermione immediately grabbed Sterling's arm, appearing as though she wanted to physically shake some sense into him.
"The potion master's advanced brewing method? Absolutely no problems whatsoever, correct?"
Hermione stared at Sterling with obvious frustration. She had been positioned directly beside that explosively unstable concoction. If Professor Snape hadn't intervened so promptly, that dangerous mixture might have spilt all over her.
"Ha ha, perhaps I remembered certain details incorrectly..."
Sterling scratched the back of his head nervously, attempting to escape with this feeble excuse while secretly resolving to confront Vivian tonight. Lady Maleficent would definitely join in this confrontation.
After all, deceiving innocent magical students into creating dangerous messes during Potions class went far beyond ordinary mischief. The Fairy Godmother absolutely must face consequences for this betrayal!
"Alright, Sterling, I completely understand that even exceptionally gifted students cannot excel in every single subject... I'm genuinely glad you're finally being honest about your potion-brewing abilities, but I still hope you can accept this reality..."
"You see, you claimed your potion skills matched those of regular young wizards. Terry and the others aren't making tremendous progress either, so please don't worry excessively. Just carefully follow the textbook's step-by-step instructions, and your grades will definitely improve. This time, I'll handle the primary work while you assist me, agreed?"
Good grief, Hermione was actually comforting him to prevent nervousness?
Sterling covered his face in mortification. This complete role reversal was absolutely painful. Previously, he had been the "mature adult" helping Hermione manage her anxiety. Now Hermione was attempting to boost his confidence...
He suspected she had essentially categorized him as a know-it-all, immature boy who stubbornly refused to acknowledge his mediocre potion-brewing skills.
"Fine, fine, I'll follow your lead completely..."
This time, Sterling meticulously ground the snake fangs into proper powder. Hermione handled most of the complex brewing steps, only assigning Sterling the stirring duties involving alternating clockwise and counterclockwise motions.
One hand remained occupied dealing with the slimy horned slugs while the other flipped through their textbook pages. Being naturally cautious by temperament, and after witnessing Sterling's spectacular failure, she proceeded extremely carefully through each step.
"Now check the potion's colour carefully... Sterling?"
"Deep blue. Next comes more stirring?"
"No! Wait a moment! The textbook clearly states to stir immediately, but Professor Snape seemed to instruct us to let it rest for a full minute?"
Hermione pondered this discrepancy and chose to follow their professor's specific instructions.
Despite Sterling's earlier catastrophic mistake, his assertion that every potion master developed their own brewing techniques held genuine truth. Hermione trusted that Professor Snape was undoubtedly a master potioner.
Counting softly under her breath for exactly sixty seconds, Hermione nodded approvingly at Sterling.
"Stir clockwise precisely four and a half times. Don't allow the stirring rod to touch the cauldron's edges."
"Understood perfectly."
Sterling didn't believe that stirring liquid in one specific direction required particular skill. He performed the task somewhat absentmindedly while wondering where exactly the problem lay.
Theoretically, there should be absolutely no issues. Numerous clues suggested that magic in the dream world and waking world shared significant overlapping principles... Though he wanted to hold Vivian entirely responsible for any mistakes, Sterling genuinely believed she wouldn't deliberately deceive him.
Could the real issue be that Vivian had taught him a completely different potion recipe? No, he had studied general potion theory extensively. This particular formula called for ground snake fangs, which, according to his knowledge, could be effectively replaced with naturally worn-down snake fangs for superior results.
So... what exactly was the fundamental problem... It's incredibly hot!
"Sterling!" Hermione's alarmed voice rang out sharply.
Sterling snapped back to awareness, realising that after completing the stirring, he had instinctively applied his dream world brewing methodology. He had slapped the cauldron's side forcefully, causing the liquid to achieve its final spinning motion.
Unfortunately, without Vivian's heat-insulating protective charm on his gloves, his palms were now painfully red and blistered.
"You... you... I'm reporting to Professor Snape immediately to get you to the hospital wing!"
Hermione frantically raised her hand to summon help, but a somewhat incredulous voice interrupted from directly behind them.
"Completely unnecessary, Miss Granger... I must ask, Mr. Page, perhaps you possess dragon blood in your veins? Otherwise, how could any rational person willingly touch a red-hot cauldron with bare skin? Perhaps I should express gratitude that you didn't simply knock it over entirely and splash those boiling potions on innocent bystanders?"
"Ravenclaw loses another fifteen points! For flagrantly disregarding basic potion-brewing safety regulations!"
That wasn't the end of his punishment. Professor Snape glared with murderous intensity at Sterling and summoned Terry to escort the injured student to the hospital wing immediately.
As for Hermione, Snape curtly instructed her to continue brewing the potion independently.
Terry didn't complain about abandoning his half-finished potion work. He trusted completely that his regular partner could complete both assignments successfully. He carefully helped Sterling exit the oppressive potion classroom.
Outside in the corridor, the air felt wonderfully fresh. This wasn't merely psychological relief. After all, the potions classroom's overwhelming combination of various chemical odours was genuinely suffocating.
"Hey buddy, you've finally discovered something you're absolutely terrible at."
Terry joked with obvious amusement, payback for his psychological trauma during yesterday's Transfiguration class.
"Please stop... I genuinely hate Potions now..."
Sterling muttered weakly, feeling as though his entire hand was burning with magical fire. The throbbing pain was absolutely real and intense.
With renewed determination, Sterling resolved to master some form of healing spell as soon as possible.
"Honestly, you're probably the worst at potions among all Ravenclaws in recent memory. I'd wager Professor Snape has never scolded a Ravenclaw student quite like that before. The expression he gave you resembled someone watching a particularly reckless lion."
Terry carefully helped Sterling navigate the stone stairs, though he privately wondered about the necessity since it was Sterling's hand that was injured, not his legs.
"Thank you for updating me on the situation. Now my heart aches just as much as my hand does. They've practically expelled me from Ravenclaw's reputation."
"No, no, everyone possesses different strengths. Perhaps this represents the inevitable price you pay for excelling in Transfiguration and Charms while being mediocre at potions? But you were genuinely reckless today."
Terry shook his head sympathetically. "You're not behaving quite like your usual self anymore."
The words were spoken casually but carried deeper meaning.
Sterling reflected carefully on his performance today and sensed something was fundamentally wrong.
Yes, he had trusted Vivian's instructions completely, so the first error was somewhat expected.
But the second time, knowing with certainty that Vivian had been wrong, that potion methods differed significantly between dream and waking worlds, yet still failing to pay proper attention and acting purely on dangerous instinct without rational thought...
Although perhaps understandable under stress, that behaviour was absolutely unlike the real Sterling Page.
So... was he operating under some form of external influence?
Sterling lowered his eyes thoughtfully, deeply troubled by this possibility.