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Chapter 44 – Slytherin Gets Ten Points
"Audrey, you seem to have an unusually good relationship with the ghosts."
Iselin Windsor set down her knife and fork, dabbed her lips with a napkin, and said it half-jokingly.
Audrey's mouth twitched.
"It's wonderful. Very refreshing. Cold enough to seep straight into your bones. Want to try it, Iselin?"
"No, thank you," Iselin laughed softly, covering her mouth. "Professor Snape is teaching Potions later. You've never formally studied potions before, have you? Why don't you sit with me? I can look after you a little."
Audrey nodded without hesitation.
"That would be perfect."
(With you doing the work, I can slack off.)
Just then, Dolka Yaxley approached.
"Miss Astray," he said politely, "would I have the honour of escorting you to the Potions classroom?"
Audrey looked up at the nearly one-point-nine-metre-tall seventh-year and gave him a composed, businesslike smile.
"There's no need, Senior Yaxley. Your curriculum is different from ours—seventh year and fifth year don't overlap. Taking me there would only delay you. I won't trouble you. Thank you."
Before Yaxley could say anything more, Audrey gestured toward Iselin.
"I have company. I won't get lost."
Yaxley inclined his head in a gentlemanly bow and withdrew.
Iselin leaned close to Audrey's ear, forcing the Fat Friar to drift a good twenty centimetres away, and whispered,
"You're not interested in Dolka Yaxley, are you?"
Audrey shook her head immediately.
"Of course not."
"That's good," Iselin said quietly. "Don't be fooled by how polite he seems. His reputation… isn't great."
Seeing Audrey's puzzled look, Iselin hesitated, cheeks flushing slightly, before lowering her voice even further.
"He's changed girlfriends every semester since first year. If I'm counting correctly, he's probably looking for his thirteenth."
Audrey smiled faintly.
"Don't worry. I'm planning to focus on my studies for the next two and a half years. I don't have time for things that boring."
The real reason, of course, was simpler.
In her previous life, she had lost both money and affection to a scoundrel. Since then, she no longer believed in love.
After finishing breakfast, the two headed toward the dungeons.
Iselin walked slightly ahead, while Audrey felt countless gazes following her.
She was no stranger to attention.
On stage, she welcomed it. She enjoyed being admired.
But this time was different.
Trailing behind her was an entire procession of ghosts—so many that even the Headless Hunt had joined in. A dozen translucent figures floated after her, creating an unmistakably eerie spectacle.
The looks directed at her weren't admiration.
They were a mix of curiosity, astonishment… and barely concealed schadenfreude.
Audrey couldn't shake them off.
Even when she entered the Potions classroom, the ghosts surged in after her.
"This is a classroom. Get out."
Severus Snape stood at the front, his face darkening as he barked the order.
Normally, the ghosts respected the professors.
Today, however, their obsession with "absorbing magic" overrode everything else, and whatever dignity they had left was promptly tossed into Merlin's hypothetical secret vault.
Legend said Merlin had hidden his vault at the ends of the earth—somewhere impossible to find.
"Out!"
Snape flicked his wand sharply.
Every Hogwarts professor possessed the authority to expel ghosts from classrooms, and the spirits were forcibly driven out, one by one.
Among all the ghosts in Hogwarts, only Professor Binns remained unaffected—after all, he was a professor himself.
Snape turned his cold gaze on Audrey.
"Miss Astray," he said icily, "you may be famous in the Muggle world, and perhaps possess a trace of notoriety in our own. That does not grant you permission to bring unnecessary distractions into my classroom."
"I'm sorry, Professor."
Knowing Snape's temperament, Audrey didn't argue.
With people like him, the correct approach was simple: accept everything, right or wrong.
Otherwise, he would flay you alive with words.
"Sit."
Audrey obediently took the seat beside Iselin.
Merlin help her—Snape's presence was terrifying.
Not powerful—terrifying.
In terms of sheer presence, Audrey only acknowledged Dumbledore and Grindelwald.
Bode Grey was another case entirely… though that might have had something to do with childhood trauma.
"You will all be taking your O.W.L.s this year," Snape said coldly.
"If you fail to achieve an Outstanding, do not even dream of entering my N.E.W.T.-level classes."
His gaze swept across the room before lingering briefly on Audrey.
"To ensure you understand what you have—or have not—learned over the past four years, we will be reviewing previous material."
Groans spread through the classroom.
"I will not teach new potions until I am satisfied."
He stalked between the desks like a predator surveying its territory.
When he returned to the front, he spun on his heel.
"Today's lesson," he announced, "is the very first potion I taught you in your first year. Who can tell me what it was?"
Percy Weasley shot his hand up instantly.
Snape ignored him completely.
"Miss Farley."
Gemma Farley stood.
"The Cure for Boils, Professor."
"Correct."
Snape nodded slightly. "At least someone here possesses a functioning memory."
"Today, you will brew the Cure for Boils. If any of you are incapable of producing a first-year potion by now, you are beyond help."
"Miss Farley answered well. Two points to Slytherin."
Audrey blinked.
Only two points?
She'd expected five—ten, even.
Since this was revision, Snape didn't explain the process again.
Iselin wasn't outstanding at Potions, but she was competent. Low-level brews like the Cure for Boils were well within her ability.
After gathering their ingredients, the two began.
Snape stopped beside their table.
"Miss Windsor will not assist," he said coolly.
"Miss Astray will brew this potion alone."
Audrey: …
So much for slacking off.
"Yes, Professor."
While responding politely, Audrey cursed him internally and began working.
She placed six snake fangs into the mortar and ground them smoothly.
Snape's eyes narrowed.
Her technique was precise—too precise.
After a short while, Audrey began preheating her cauldron without prompting.
One minute later, the fangs were perfectly ground.
Snape's brows drew together.
Her timing was exact.
Once the potion boiled fully, Audrey immediately removed the cauldron from the flame and stirred it gently with her wand to cool it.
When the temperature dropped to the correct range, she added slug mucus—measured flawlessly.
Snape paused.
That amount was exactly what he himself used.
It took years to develop that instinct.
Once the cauldron cooled completely, Audrey added the final ingredient.
Porcupine quills.
At that moment—
Bang!
An explosion rang through the dungeon.
Snape was there instantly.
"Oliver Wood!" he snarled. "Have you been playing Quidditch so much that your brain has turned to muscle?"
"Even first-years know to wait until the cauldron cools before adding porcupine quills!"
Oliver Wood, Gryffindor's Quidditch captain, shrank back.
Snape vanished the mess with a flick of his wand, but the damage was done.
"Five points from Gryffindor. Foolishness."
He turned away and walked toward Audrey's cauldron.
From a distance, pink steam rose steadily—only produced when the brew was correct.
Up close, the potion shimmered a perfect, clear blue.
Because of the magic constantly radiating from Audrey, tiny motes of magical essence glittered within it like stars.
A flawless Cure for Boils.
Snape's eyes lit up.
"Miss Astray's first attempt," he announced sharply, "is perfect."
"Come and look," he ordered. "Perhaps shame will finally teach you something."
His gaze flicked pointedly toward Gryffindor, a faint, vicious smile touching his lips.
"Outstanding talent. Impeccable brewing."
"Ten points to Slytherin."
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