Glancing down at his watch, John shouted anxiously, "Link! Hurry up! Class is about to start!"
In the distance, Link rolled his eyes, quickened his pace, shoved a grease-stained paper bag into John's hands, and said, "Eat fast, stop whining."
John didn't reply. He just let out a few chuckles and eagerly tore open the paper bag to start eating.
Link had brought quite a decent breakfast, one fried egg, two grilled sausages, and a small pile of broccoli. Some sauce had pooled at the bottom of the paper bag.
Normally, John wouldn't have gone anywhere near broccoli. But now, being so hungry, he couldn't afford to be picky.
He wolfed it all down in just a few bites, and right then Professor Sprout came in from outside the greenhouse to announce the start of class.
The N.E.W.T.-level Herbology class wasn't fundamentally different from the O.W.L. one.
It was still about learning to recognize various magical plants and studying their cultivation and harvesting techniques.
But the difficulty level between the two was completely different.
If the O.W.L.-level magical plants were only mildly disgusting or troublesome but not truly dangerous to wizards,
then the plants in the N.E.W.T.-level class were the kind that could actually be deadly.
Take this lesson, for example.
Professor Sprout's "teaching props" were rows of massive ceramic pots, each one containing an Ecuadorian Man-Eating Grass.
These plants had an ugly, mulch-colored appearance and a foul stench. Their bodies were about as large as a thick carpet, capable of hiding among rotting leaves.
But when a person, or any other creature, passed nearby, they would instantly transform into terrifying predators, swelling to over ten times their size to devour their prey.
The unfortunate victim would then be melted down in seconds by the plant's powerful digestive acid, turned into nutrients for the creature.
What made them extraordinary magical plants worthy of being kept in Sprout's greenhouse was precisely this powerful acid, it was a key ingredient in many potent poisons and insecticides.
To extract the acid safely, wizards usually had to lure the plants into their hunting stance, then jam their mouths open with wooden stakes conjured through Transfiguration, and finally collect the liquid.
After explaining every precaution involved in this extraction process, Professor Sprout finally announced the start of practical work.
At her words, everyone hurried to put on dragon-hide gloves and other protective gear, cautiously approaching the Ecuadorian Man-Eating Grass.
What followed could only be described as utter carnage.
Even with Professor Sprout's expert guidance, it was impossible for first-timers to safely extract acid from a plant that could grow nearly four meters tall in hunting mode.
So before long, the greenhouse was filled with screams as students got bitten one after another.
Thankfully, these particular man-eating plants had been magically restricted, their mouths couldn't open too wide, and their teeth had all been removed. They couldn't actually swallow anyone whole.
But being bitten was still no joke.
Unable to swallow their prey, the frustrated plants began thrashing their victims around wildly. The panicked students retaliated with magic, and within minutes the entire greenhouse had turned into total chaos.
Professor Sprout could only sigh helplessly as she moved in to rescue students one by one.
Those who had attacked the plants, however, all lost a fair number of house points.
After all, these man-eating grasses were valuable, sustainable resources, and learning to extract their acid without harming them was a critical part of Herbology. Those students had clearly panicked and ignored the professor's teachings.
The chaos lasted until the very end of class.
And out of everyone, only a handful of students managed to safely and correctly extract the acid.
John was one of them.
When Professor Sprout called out their names and awarded points, many students looked at John and the others with admiration.
But John felt no pride at all.
Others might not know, but he did.
The only reason he'd succeeded was because he'd already "befriended" the man-eating grasses earlier that morning while cleaning the greenhouse.
The truly talented one was Link, someone who could make those deadly plants completely docile the very first time he touched them.
Thinking that, John secretly glanced in Link's direction.
He saw that, as soon as Professor Sprout dismissed class, Link and Emily hurriedly left the greenhouse together.
Halfway out, Link seemed to notice John's gaze and turned to wave at him.
John quickly smiled and waved back.
He was long used to Link's behavior by now.
Since the start of the new term, Link and Emily had been constantly busy, so much that you could rarely find them in the common room or the dorms except during class time.
John had asked about it before, of course.
But every time, Link would just smile mysteriously and say, "It's a surprise. You'll find out soon."
After hearing that a few times, John eventually stopped asking.
Sighing deeply, he looked around to make sure everyone else had left, then picked up his tools from the corner and began cleaning the greenhouse again, tending to the injured man-eating grasses that had been battered by the students' clumsy handling.
It was tedious, time-consuming work. By the time John finally finished, it was already noon.
But unlike when he'd arrived, he now carried a large burlap sack in his hands.
Inside were two jars of man-eating grass acid and some broken leaves and stems.
These leftovers were rejects from the morning's lesson, and John's payment for helping Professor Sprout with the cleanup.
Though tiring, John was quite happy with this job.
He had now fully understood what Link meant when he'd said, "Studying N.E.W.T.-level Potions is basically burning money."
Because of limited school funding, N.E.W.T. Potions students were usually only provided with one or two sets of ingredients for making advanced brews.
If you were exceptionally talented and lucky, you could use those ingredients perfectly under Professor Snape's supervision and end up with a finished potion.
Snape would then buy it back from you, exchanging its value for more ingredients so you could continue practicing.
Unfortunately, John, and most of his classmates, were neither that talented nor that lucky.
Which meant that if they wanted to keep practicing, they had to buy their own materials.
And for poor students like John, whose families couldn't afford to help, that was a huge problem.
The result was obvious, the richer students quickly pulled ahead, while poorer ones fell further and further behind.
So Professor Sprout's greenhouse job, where you got paid in herbal materials, was an incredibly appealing opportunity.
After all, Herbology and Potions were deeply connected.
The greenhouses often grew special plants for the Potions classroom to save school expenses.
That meant most of the materials John received here could be used directly in Potions practice.
And if he couldn't use them himself, he could always trade them to Professor Snape for other ingredients.
So to get a whole bag of materials like this, John was more than satisfied.
It meant that, with just a bit of extra money, he could cover the cost of his next Potions lesson.
Still, it wasn't enough to cover his weekly expenses for N.E.W.T. Potions entirely.
He'd need to find some other way to make money.
For instance, working part-time at George and Fred's black-market workshop.
After returning to the castle, resting briefly, and having lunch, John slipped away from the crowd with his cauldron and other brewing tools in tow.
He wound through countless corridors and stairways until he finally arrived at a dark, narrow hallway.
This time, John didn't go in right away. He tensed up, pressing himself close to the wall and inching forward carefully.
One step. Two steps. Three...
A huge red water balloon suddenly dropped from the ceiling.
Fortunately, John had been on high alert. He bent his waist and threw himself to the side, narrowly dodging it.
The balloon burst on the floor with a loud splash, soaking everything nearby.
John's face darkened as he shouted, "Peeves! Do you have a death wish?! Every single time you pull this stunt, this time, I'm not letting it go!"
At his yell, Peeves finally popped out from behind the wall where he'd been hiding.
Grinning slyly, the poltergeist pointed proudly at the security cap on his head and said, "Oh, it's you again, little poor boy John! You've got some luck, always dodging me somehow. But don't think luck will save you forever! Remember, I'm security here now! Want me to tell the Weasley bosses to fire you?"
"You!"
John was furious, but in the end, he swallowed his anger, grabbed his work bag, and walked forward without another word.
Peeves, however, wasn't done. He kept floating alongside John, jeering and pestering him, trying to get him to "play" a little longer.
John ignored him completely, picked up his pace, and went straight into the second-to-last classroom at the end of the hall.
The place, whether you called it a classroom or a workshop, was just as messy as when Link had last been there.
Old, mismatched desks and chairs were crammed into every corner, forming makeshift workbenches. Dozens of students of all ages and houses were busy working.
John had been here before, so he didn't hesitate.
He tossed his metal name tag to a Gryffindor boy by the door who handled attendance and timekeeping, then carefully squeezed his way through the crowded room until he reached a workbench by the window.
Behind it stood a thin-haired Ravenclaw boy.
Unlike others who had to manage several workstations at once, he had just one, but that didn't make his job easier.
He was brewing a low-grade version of a love potion.
It wasn't nearly as strong as the real thing, its ingredients were cheaper, its process quicker, but it still counted as a semi-advanced potion, so it couldn't be done carelessly.
The Ravenclaw boy's eyes lit up when he saw John.
"John! Finally! You're here to take over, I'm starving to death!"
"If you're hungry, go eat already," John said with a smile. "I've already saved you some food in the Great Hall. It's still warm."
"Really? That's great! I just finished preparing the base ingredients for this love potion, you can start from here!"
The boy hurriedly packed up his tools, ready to leave, but halfway to the door, he suddenly turned back as if he'd noticed something.
"John, what happened to your dragon-hide gloves?"
"What about them?" John said casually, turning his hands over to show his unscathed palms.
But from his own perspective, he could clearly see that the right glove had a small tear in the palm, and the left one was already thinning dangerously, it wouldn't be long before that one tore too.
The Ravenclaw boy had obviously noticed the same thing, or he wouldn't have come back.
He said seriously, "John, you're in N.E.W.T.-level Potions too, right? Then you should know this, George and Fred's materials are the cheapest, lowest-quality junk out there. If you handle them without proper dragon-hide protection, your hands will be ruined!"
Saying that, he pulled off his own gloves and set them on the table.
"Use mine for now. We'll swap back next shift."
"No, that's not right!" John said quickly, alarmed. "You just said this stuff wears down gloves fast, if I use yours, they'll get damaged..."
"What are you talking about, damage? You save me meals every day, have I ever paid you for that? Just do as I say! I'm off to eat!"
The boy cut him off and dashed out of the workshop without looking back, leaving John standing there.
After a long sigh, John finally put on the still-warm gloves, which carried the other boy's body heat and faint sweaty smell, and began sorting through the materials.
He also cast a Bubble-Head Charm over himself to block out the workshop's awful stench.
That was a necessary precaution, just like hands, a potion maker's nose was essential. Many brewing steps depended entirely on smell.
John intended to stay on the path of potion-making for the long haul, so he couldn't afford to take safety lightly.
As for his own damaged gloves, even if that Ravenclaw boy hadn't offered, John would've borrowed another pair from someone else. With his good relationships here, that wouldn't have been hard at all.