Seán had always thought brewing potions would be straightforward. After all, it came with strict steps to follow.
But it turned out to be far more complicated than he'd imagined.
He knew the basics: toss in dried nettles and crushed snake fangs into the cauldron to simmer, then add porcupine quills after dousing the fire.
Simple enough in theory, right? But in practice? Absolute chaos.
How finely should the snake fangs be crushed? How long after dousing the fire should he add the porcupine quills? How much force should he use when stirring? What was the right angle for the stir? When exactly was he supposed to stir?
The textbook didn't mention any of this, and Professor Snape hadn't offered even the tiniest hint.
Seán figured these were probably things wizards just knew instinctively. Like when he first practiced the Levitation Charm and felt that strange tingle guiding him. Maybe potion-making was the same—a natural knack that wizards were expected to just get.
But apparently, no one bothered to teach it because everyone was supposed to figure it out quickly.
And Professor Snape? He probably didn't even notice these details. As a Potions Master, it was unlikely he'd overlook something so basic, but still.
"I guess I'm just rubbish at this," Seán muttered to himself, "so these little details are my stumbling blocks."
His theory was confirmed the next moment. Following the textbook steps—and whatever instinct he hoped he had—Seán's cauldron, to no one's surprise, produced a potion that was… blue.
"I'm pretty sure the Scabbing Solution isn't supposed to be that color," Justin said, scratching his head, staring at the bubbling mess with disbelief.
The cauldron gurgled, the blue potion slowly thickening.
And thickening right alongside it was Professor Snape's scowl.
"Idiots!" he bellowed, striding over with his robes billowing sharply behind him. "Aside from your pathetic stirring and abysmal control of the flame, your ingredient preparation is almost certainly a disaster."
With a flick of his wand, a stool appeared, and Snape sat down with an air of cold elegance. His eyes locked onto the blue potion. After a few seconds, he sneered.
"Utterly brainless choices—porcupine quills of deplorable quality, troll-worthy nettle selection, and an utterly catastrophic choice of snake fangs. Non-venomous fangs? You two deserve to be immortalized on a portrait of stupidity!"
His roar was merciless as he waved his wand, vanishing the contents of their cauldron in an instant.
"Be grateful your steps weren't entirely wrong, or you'd have learned what happens to fools who botch a potion!"
His voice was as chilling as the dungeon's draft.
"One point from each of you," he snapped.
Justin had sensed trouble the moment Snape approached, but the barrage of insults left his face flushed. Seán's wide eyes dimmed, much like they had when he struggled with charms. He had zero instinct for potion-making.
He could probably guess his talent for potions now: nonexistent.
---
Even after class, the young witches and wizards barely dared to speak above a whisper. The shadow of Potions loomed over them all.
"Seán, don't worry," Justin said, his voice trying to sound upbeat. "We'll earn those points back."
"Yeah," Seán replied, though his mind was elsewhere.
If he let difficulties, obstacles, or someone's sharp tongue stop him, he'd never have mastered the Levitation Charm. No, his distraction wasn't about failure—it was about chewing over Snape's words.
Failed flame control. Improper stirring. Botched ingredient choices.
These were the basics of potion-making, and they were Seán's problems.
Two paths lay before him.
The first was to brew potions blindly, like he'd practiced charms, hoping to stumble into success through trial and error.
But he dismissed that idea immediately. Potions weren't like charms. They weren't safe. One wrong move, and you could end up with toxic fumes or worse.
That left the second path: truly understand the art of potion-making. Tackle every possible issue head-on, master the process through practice, and eventually earn the skill—and maybe even some talent.
It was the harder road, no question. But it was the only one that made sense. And once he got it right just once, things would get easier.
"One problem at a time," Seán whispered to himself. "But I've got to move fast. Potions isn't the only subject at Hogwarts."
---
The Great Hall's long tables were piled high with food: roast turkey, tiny sausages, buttery peas, rich gravy, cranberry sauce, Christmas pudding, turkey sandwiches, and warm scones. A feast to make anyone's mouth water.
Neither his lack of talent nor Snape's venomous tongue could dampen Seán's enthusiasm for dinner.
Merlin's beard, this is delicious.
Seán attacked his plate with speed and grace. In the six months since arriving at Hogwarts, he hadn't had a single proper meal. Even last night's Welcome Feast had left him only three-quarters full.
Back at the orphanage, resources were scarce, so they rationed everything. Anna, the caretaker, had a theory that one meal a day was enough for a child.
Stomach acid creeping up at midnight wasn't fun. In his hungriest moments, Seán had eyed the stray dogs outside the orphanage as potential snacks.
"Hermione! Over here!" Justin called, waving at Hermione, who was looking for a quiet corner to sit.
She jogged over, her cheeks slightly pink. "You're too loud!" she huffed, glaring at Justin.
"Sorry, didn't want you to miss us," Justin said, his dimples deepening with a grin.
"First class this afternoon is Herbology," Hermione said, launching into a rapid-fire explanation. "It's the most frequent class on our timetable. I bet it's not going to be easy, so I reviewed the book again. Oh, and I heard you had Potions today…"
"Herbology sounds brilliant," Justin replied. "Are you learning about all those magical plants? As for Potions, well…"
The two dove into conversation, their voices fading into the background as Seán pulled out his timetable, lost in thought.
Wednesday morning: Herbology. Wednesday afternoon: Herbology. Friday afternoon: Herbology.
It was, indeed, the most frequent class.
Hogwarts' schedule wasn't random. There had to be a reason Herbology was prioritized. But why?
"…catastrophic ingredient choices… your material selection was almost certainly wrong…"
Snape's words clicked into place. Herbology taught witches and wizards how to handle magical plants and ingredients—the foundation of potion-making.
It was clear now: to master potions, he'd have to master Herbology first.