Marietta nudged Cho Chang gently with her elbow, leaning in close to whisper in her ear.
"He just called you pretty, you know."
Cho's cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink, but she quickly shook her head. "Oh, stop it, Marietta. I really do not think Maurise meant it that way."
Having shared a House with Maurise for a while now, Cho had picked up on a few things. The dark-haired boy possessed a thought process that operated on an entirely different wavelength from everyone else. Whatever he had just said, it certainly was not meant as a standard compliment.
"Could you pass me that package? Thanks," Maurise interjected.
"Oh! Right, of course." Pulled from her thoughts, Cho hastily grabbed the parcel resting on the table and held it out.
During the handoff, her fingers accidentally brushed against the twine securing the top. The knot was woefully loose. In the blink of an eye, the bag tipped, and a small pile of fine, white powder and gritty granules spilled directly onto the wooden table.
"Ah! I am so sorry!" Cho apologized frantically, her hands darting forward to sweep up the mess.
"Do not touch it."
Maurise's voice was perfectly calm. His wand was already in his hand, drawn with practiced speed. With a precise flick of the tip, the scattered white fragments instantly pulled themselves together and floated neatly back into the rough burlap sack.
"Well, it is a good thing that did not land in the porridge," Maurise muttered, pulling the drawstring tight.
Cho looked at the bag warily. "What exactly is that? Is it poisonous?"
Beside her, Marietta leaned in, her eyes wide with undisguised curiosity.
"Just a potion ingredient. It is not toxic," Maurise explained. "But eating it would make you feel incredibly strange."
In reality, the bag was full of bone ash.
Specifically, the ash of people who had died desperately clinging to the hope of survival. Even if someone accidentally ate a spoonful, it would not harm them physically. He had nearly exhausted his previous supply of this highly specific ingredient. After pestering Frick, Maurise learned the man had a stash gathering dust in his warehouse for nearly ten years.
The only other person who had ever purchased it? Professor Severus Snape.
You had to hand it to the Potions Master. The man really would throw anything into a cauldron to see what happened.
Speaking of brewing, Maurise had spent so much time perfecting the Draught of Living Death that he knew the recipe backward and forward. In fact, he had brewed up quite a few ideas for improving it. He wanted to corner Snape and discuss altering the formula. If he could boost its potency, he could stay in the 'In-between' world much longer. Alternatively, he wanted to find a way to slash the brewing costs.
Potion ingredients were outrageously expensive. If he could find a cheap substitute for the Sopophorous Bean, his wallet would be eternally grateful.
Around noon, in a brightly lit corridor on the ground floor, Maurise managed to intercept Snape on his way back to his office.
Snape's face was a mask of pure ice, and he was walking at a brisk, terrifying pace. He was clearly in a foul mood. This was perfectly understandable, considering Gryffindor had just won the Quidditch match the day before.
When Maurise casually pitched his radical brewing ideas, Snape's lips curled into a trademark sneer.
"Truly a flight of fancy, Black. The formula for the Draught of Living Death has been perfected over centuries. If you do not wish to poison yourself through your own arrogant assumptions, I suggest you abandon these idiotic notions immediately."
"But Professor, do you not agree that the Sopophorous Bean is replaceable?" Maurise asked, completely ignoring Snape's deeply intimidating glare. "Take Valerian pods, for example. In theory, could they not mimic the exact soporific properties of the bean's juice if crushed properly? Mathematically speaking..."
While Snape and Maurise descended into a fiercely technical debate in the hallway, three familiar figures were pressed flat against the wall of the adjacent empty classroom.
"Can you hear what Snape is saying, Ron?" Harry whispered, pressing his ear so hard against the cold stone it was starting to go numb.
"I can hear it, but I do not understand a bloody word," Ron grumbled, his face scrunched up in confusion. "I think Snape is just insulting him."
Hermione shot Ron a look of profound exasperation. "They are discussing the recipe for the Draught of Living Death."
She paused, a rare look of utter bewilderment crossing her face. "Maurise is suggesting alternative ingredients. Sopophorous beans, Valerian pods... well, alright, I do not understand it either. We have not covered anything remotely close to this in class yet."
Harry let out a massive sigh of relief, the tension draining from his shoulders. If Maurise and Snape were just agonizing over potion theories, there was no immediate danger. He knew Maurise was just as obsessed with his studies as Hermione, maybe even more so. After all, Hermione would never willingly track down Snape in her free time to argue about potion modifications.
Gradually, the voices outside grew muffled before fading away entirely. It sounded like Maurise had asked one final question, Snape had snapped a brief reply, and both had walked off.
Just as the trio relaxed, fully convinced the coast was clear, the classroom door clicked and swung wide open.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione practically jumped out of their skin, spinning around in pure panic.
Maurise was leaning casually in the doorway, offering them a bright, entirely too knowing smile.
"Hello."
A suffocating blanket of awkwardness descended upon the dusty classroom. Sunlight streamed through the dirty windows, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the dead silence.
"Er... hi, Maurise," Harry managed to croak out, forcing a hollow laugh.
"Relax," Maurise said, shrugging his shoulders. "Snape did not notice you eavesdropping. I, however, knew you were in here the entire time."
Ron could not hold back his disbelief and took a step forward. "Mate, why on earth would you willingly go looking for Snape to ask him questions?"
Maurise gave him a thoroughly confused look. "Who else am I supposed to ask? Hogwarts does not exactly keep a spare Potions Professor in the broom cupboard."
Ron choked on his own words, his mouth hanging open as he struggled to find a logical counterargument to that perfectly reasonable point.
"Snape is dangerous," Hermione cut in, her tone dead serious. "You have to believe us, Maurise. It is really best if you do not get too close to him."
Maurise crossed his arms and leaned comfortably against the doorframe. "You are going to have to give me a better reason than that."
The three Gryffindors exchanged cautious glances, having an entire silent conversation in the span of a few seconds. Finally, they reached a silent consensus.
Harry took a deep breath. "Alright, we will spell it out for you, Maurise. Do you remember what Dumbledore said at the start-of-term feast? The third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is strictly out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."
Maurise nodded slowly. "I remember. That is because there is a massive three-headed dog in there."
"How do you know that?!" Ron blurted out, his eyes bulging like saucers.
"I imagine quite a few people know," Maurise replied, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. "Dumbledore basically gave us a flashing neon sign. You can guarantee every curious upperclassman in the castle has tried to sneak a peek by now."
He was absolutely certain he, the Weasley twins, and the Golden Trio were not the only ones privy to Fluffy's existence.
"So, what is your point?" Maurise prompted.
Unable to hold it in any longer, Harry spilled their entire grand theory. He explained that Nicolas Flamel's Sorcerer's Stone was hidden on the third floor. He detailed how Snape was actively trying to steal it and was currently coercing poor, stuttering Professor Quirrell into helping him. To top it all off, he insisted Snape had cursed his broomstick during the Quidditch match.
"Now do you see, Maurise?" Ron asked, waving his arms around frantically. "Snape is a complete menace. Stay away from him!"
Maurise fell silent for a moment, absorbing the information with a thoughtful expression. He then gave them a slow, measured nod.
"I will be careful. Thank you for the warning."