Sterling had taken refuge in the library. He deliberately declined Hermione's invitation and found a secluded corner, shielding himself behind towering stacks of thick books.
He had absolutely no choice but to hide. His "legendary performance" in Potions class had spread throughout Hogwarts like the Black Death of mediaeval times. Before noon had even arrived, every single person at Hogwarts knew about his spectacular failure.
If that had been the only consequence, it would have been manageable. Sterling didn't particularly mind being the centre of attention. After all, he was a bestselling author. Although he always concealed his identity at public events, he had grown accustomed to living under the spotlight.
But the looks he was receiving from those Gryffindor students were completely different.
They displayed recognition, approval, and most disturbingly... pointed questions about his Ravenclaw House identity!
Although he had only recently started attending school, Sterling still felt genuine pride in being a wise Ravenclaw.
So those Gryffindor gazes that practically screamed, "Come to Gryffindor and realise your true talents!" were something Sterling politely but firmly declined.
Spread before him lay three potion-related textbooks: "Masters of Potions Throughout History", "Potion Brewing Methods: Standard Edition", and "The Historical Evolution of Potion-Making".
He carefully flipped through their pages, finding it nearly impossible to tolerate his absolutely terrible performance in Potions class. Not because he demanded perfection in every subject, but because he could accept having weaknesses, yet this level of incompetence was simply unacceptable...
Most importantly, Sterling still couldn't understand the fundamental problem.
Magical spells from the dream world functioned perfectly in the waking world, so why couldn't potion-brewing techniques be universally applicable? The method he had learnt was specifically for brewing scab-healing potion, which theoretically should correspond perfectly with the classroom assignment.
In fact, judging solely from the steps outlined in their textbook, except for some material preparation differences, the ingredient selection and brewing sequence were essentially identical.
No, there was also that sudden bout of inexplicable carelessness...
Sterling felt that since entering Hogwarts, he had been constantly beset by so many distracting issues that he no longer had time to write fairy tales.
One crisis after another kept interrupting his creative process...
"Oh? Who do we have here? Why do they look so remarkably familiar?"
"Isn't that the famous Ravenclaw Transfiguration prodigy? George, surely you haven't forgotten about him?"
"Wrong, Fred! That's completely outdated news. That's clearly our future Gryffindor star in the making!"
"Reporting for duty! Our magnificent little lion king, when are we launching another glorious assault on the old bat's classroom?"
Two identical redheads suddenly popped up from behind the towering book stacks, taking turns delivering their rapid-fire commentary. They smiled with brilliant enthusiasm at Sterling, their gazes filled with undisguised pride and admiration.
Like professors who had just discovered an exceptionally promising student.
Oh no... here we go again...
Sterling attempted to hide his face behind his open books, completely unaware that this defensive gesture was no different from an ostrich burying its head in sand.
"Our star of tomorrow is studying potion books? Deputy Minister George, what's your professional assessment?"
"Reporting to Deputy Minister Fred: The Minister is obviously preparing for the next strategic assault. The previous attack was successfully blocked by the bat demon. The Minister will undoubtedly regroup to blow him sky-high next time!"
"Excellent analysis, George! You completely understand our Minister's brilliant tactical thinking!"
"Enough!" Sterling couldn't tolerate this nonsense any longer and set his book aside with obvious irritation. A deep flush appeared across his face.
"What exactly do you mean by 'Minister' and 'Deputy Minister'?"
"The star of tomorrow appears genuinely confused," observed the redhead positioned on the left, who was laughing continuously without ever stopping.
"Allow me to clarify the situation for our esteemed Minister. This represents our newly established 'Annoy the Old Bat Department,' currently the most popular Ministry division with exactly three dedicated staff members."
Sterling displayed a clear "I've been completely fooled by idiots" expression.
"You just called him Deputy Minister George, then he declared you're Deputy Minister Fred, I'm supposedly the Minister, and there are only three of us total... Is our department secretly hiring ghosts for additional positions?"
The moment those words left his mouth, Sterling realised his terrible mistake and quickly spat several times for luck.
"No, no, whoeverclaimed we're all in the same department?"
"I knew you'd be completely taken in by our brilliant performance! Fred, you definitely lost the bet!" The redhead named George suddenly dragged a chair over and positioned himself on Sterling's left side.
"Fine, fine, next time I'll be the first volunteer to test our new experimental product." The redhead called Fred mirrored his twin's actions and settled on Sterling's right.
Trapped between the two energetic redheads, Sterling felt a strong urge to draw his wand and cast some kind of escape spell.
But to Sterling's genuine surprise, after settling into their seats, they actually quieted down and began leaning in from either side to read the textbooks with him.
"This information isn't accurate. The proper way to process bistort root is to chop it finely before extracting the juice. This book incorrectly suggests juicing it directly..."
"That's an eighty-year-old methodology. This textbook must be from the forgotten corner section. It's obviously an outdated version that Madam Pince relegated to the neglected historical collection."
Following their suggestion, Sterling checked the publication date and discovered it was indeed several decades old.
"You two... actually understand potions?"
Sterling asked with obvious doubt. Not from stereotyping, but was it genuinely possible that Gryffindor students possessed such extensive potion knowledge?
Perhaps sensing Sterling's scepticism, George lifted his head to meet his gaze.
"We both earned 'Exceeds Expectations' grades for Potions last semester."
"And that's only because the old bat never awards 'Outstanding' marks to anyone except Slytherin students. Those 'Outstanding' recipients aren't nearly as skilled at potion-making as we actually are."
Sterling realised the twins operated as a unified entity. Whenever one began speaking, the other invariably continued the thought seamlessly.
Was this typical twin behaviour? It seemed rather exhausting to witness.
Sterling sighed deeply. Honestly, he simply wanted solitude right now.
"Bloody hell, George, we've wasted far too much time. The Old Bat's class is about to begin."
Fred's expression suddenly shifted as he pulled George up from his chair with urgent determination.
"Right then, star of tomorrow, prepare yourself to witness true senior-level power! Gryffindor absolutely cannot lose face to Ravenclaw!"
George's demeanour became intensely serious, as if he was preparing for an actual battle.
No, this was indeed their battlefield. Attempting to demonstrate senior authority to the younger students, proving that Gryffindor's legendary bravery far outshone Ravenclaw's academic reputation, the Weasley twins were about to deliver Professor Snape an unforgettable surprise.
As for House points... who cared about those anymore?
Sterling stared in bewilderment at the increasingly determined twins as they ceremoniously joined hands above his head.
Why not leave their seats to shake hands properly?
Also, after experiencing just one class, judging by their grave expressions, an outside observer might assume they were a heroic team preparing to battle Lady Maleficent herself.
Before departing, they both turned back and waved at Sterling with genuine politeness, and he automatically returned the gesture.
"Goodbye, Fred and George."
Unexpectedly, just as they were about to dash out of the library at full speed, "George" and "Fred" simultaneously winked at Sterling with mischievous grins.
"Actually, I'm Fred." "And I'm George," they announced in perfect succession.
They waved enthusiastically while laughing at their successful prank, celebrating their deception before Madam Pince appeared, clutching an armload of books and hurrying to chase them out of her sacred domain.
The library entrance was definitely not the unnoticed little corner Sterling had hoped for.
Sterling watched their chaotic retreat and couldn't help but smile with genuine amusement.