Chapter 6: Charms, Potions, and Bullies
That night, I had a dream.
I was walking through an unfamiliar corridor that was dimly lit with torches fixed in large five-feet tall podiums that were spaced out along the walls about twenty feet from one another, and several portraits of snoring witches and wizards were hung so close to each other that the wall behind the portraits almost could not be seen at all. From the looks of the occupants in the portraits, I guessed I was in one of the old corridors of Hogwarts, though this looked like a corridor I had never seen before. A sudden cold breeze blew through the corridor, sending an icy chill up my spine. I took an anxious exhale, and I saw my breath come out in a puff of icy mist. The sight made me instinctively tighten my nightie around my shoulders.
All was quiet, except for the light crackling of the fires fixed in the podiums on either side of the corridor, for another few moments until I heard the most disturbing cry from an all-too-familiar male voice coming from further down the dark corridor: "Jane!"
"Jacob?" I shouted back frantically, realizing that his voice sounded like he was in trouble. "Jacob, is that you?" Despite the strange fact that it was starting to get colder, I continued walking, a little faster, down the corridor, determined to find the owner of the troubled cries. I then started noticing that the portraits and tapestries were beginning to glaze over with an eerie glassy substance. I hesitantly touched one of the velvet tapestries and instantly realized the substance was ice.
I frowned in apparent confusion. What the—
"Jane!" Jacob's voice—or what I assumed to be Jacob's voice—cried, a bit louder this time. I must have been getting close to his location, but I wasn't sure if this was good or bad. "Help me!"
"Jacob!" I shouted anxiously. "I'm coming! Where are you?" This time, I began running down the corridor, and I then realized that the further I ran, the darker and colder the corridor became. I squinted in the darkness and realized that the torches further away from me were no longer lit, and I could've sworn a few seconds ago, those torches were still lit. Before I could question what possibly could've snuffed out the torches, my legs suddenly slipped out from under me, and I fell backwards to the floor, sliding a few feet across the floor even after I fell. In confusion, I looked down and noticed that the floor was covered in a thick layer of ice. In apparent horror, I instantly looked up to find the portraits and tapestries on the walls also covered in ice. Some of the torches nearest to me extinguished themselves when the ice spread across the top of the podiums.
"What the hell?" I cried in apparent confusion and horror.
"Jane!" Jacob's voice called again through the darkness, but his voice sounded further away, like I had somehow taken the wrong turn. That seemed to definitely be the case, because this corridor was filling with ice that not only could've been possibly cursed but also very deadly. I knew I had to get out of here, or I would surely freeze to death. I was already starting to feel hypothermic in my feet, legs, and arms.
As I struggled to stand up due to the icy floor, I suddenly saw the ice start to spread across my hand, turning it a deep blue color, and up my arm. In a panic, I tried to move my hand, but my hand was apparently stuck in place and had lost all of its feeling. I tried to move other parts of my body, but the ice had spread over most of my body and was now beginning to spread across my chest. I then started to have massive trouble breathing.
"Jacob!" I choked out in panic as I watched helplessly as the ice was encasing me into a frozen cocoon. "Help me!" The last thing I saw before I was completely enveloped in the ice was the light from a nearby torch going out, and I plunged into infinite darkness while I still heard Jacob's screams grow fainter and fainter.
"Jane! Jane, it's too late! Jane…Jane…"
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"Jane!"
I suddenly woke to find Rowan lightly shaking me awake from my icy slumber.
"Rowan!" I frowned, puzzled, while rubbing my blurry eyes. "What's wrong?"
"I could ask you the same," she said anxiously, her dark wavy hair wild. "Are you alright? You looked like you were having a nightmare. I had to wake you from it before you woke up all of Gryffindor Tower." After the blurriness subsided, I could see she was already fully dressed in her black Hogwarts robes, inlaid with red velvet lining, the iconic color of Gryffindor. Her large glasses were also fixed firmly on her face, and she was in mid-process of combing her hair with a bristly hairbrush.
"How long have you been up?" I asked, somewhat thankful I hadn't woken her up due to my apparent screaming; although I wasn't sure if I had woken up anyone else in our dorm room. I glanced over at some of the other girls who were still sound asleep, and I felt a slight pang of relief.
"A while," Rowan confirmed. "I've been just sitting here waiting for you to wake up, but since you were seemingly having a nasty nightmare, I felt I had to wake you myself."
"Sorry," I mumbled shamefully. Considering I gave her—and possibly a few others—quite a fright, I instantly felt the need to apologize.
"It's okay," Rowan said in an assuring tone, "you seem to be fine now." She then sat down on the bed next to me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Hey, it's still early, so we still have time to get breakfast in the Great Hall before our first class ever, Charms. I'm anxious to explore around the castle a bit as well. Hurry up and get dressed so we can eat."
"Okay," I nodded before I got out of bed and started getting ready for our first day of classes. Twenty minutes later, we headed down to the Great Hall together, Rowan's arm clinging to mine out of excitement.
During breakfast, I struggled to contain the excitement within me. Today was the first day of classes, and I was finally going to learn exciting new spells and potions and meet new friends. I couldn't think of any other place I would rather be at that exact moment.
I also couldn't wait to discover Hogwarts' hidden mysteries, particularly the Cursed Vaults. Ever since my brother disappeared, I had always been curious to find out what exactly had made him disappear, whether it was a cursed artifact from one of the vaults, or that You-Know-Who had somehow captured him right after he was expelled. Whilst I was here, I had planned to ask other people—particularly any upperclassmen who may have been growing up with Jacob while he was still at school here—and see if they knew anything about Jacob's behavior during his pursuit of the vaults. Perhaps he may have shared some information about the vaults with his closest friends, and if I were to find out who his closest friends were—assuming they were still at school here—I might be able to find out just what happened to him. Or, if Jacob hadn't shared anything about the vaults with anyone, maybe I could follow in his exact footsteps and find out that way; although I was going to be more careful to not get caught, assuming that was how Jacob got expelled. I had hoped that today, I would get lucky and find out something about my brother's disappearance and how to bring him back.
"What was it like?" Rowan suddenly asked with a mouthful off scrambled eggs.
"What was what like?" I asked, puzzled.
"Your dream," Rowan confirmed. "What was it like? Maybe if you talk to me about it, it could help you feel better."
In that moment, I thought about telling Rowan about my disturbing dream of the ice and hearing Jacob's voice calling to me from who-knows-where, but some voice in the back of my mind, for some reason, told me not to say anything about it in fear of Rowan thinking of me as a freak.
I shook my head. "I don't know, Rowan. It was just a dream, nothing more."
"Are you sure?" Rowan said doubtfully with a raised eyebrow. "You sounded pretty desperate. I heard you whisper your brother's name a couple of times, like you were looking for him; and then you started screaming for help, like something was attacking you."
"I'm sorry, Rowan," I lied again, "I don't remember. It was just a dream; it's nothing to worry about."
"But I'm worried about you," Rowan said in an insistent tone. "I mean your brother is missing. You said you were really close to him up until he started obsessing over the Cursed Vaults, and then he just vanished without a trace."
"I know," I nodded, "and I appreciate you thinking about me, Row; but you don't need to worry about me or my brother. That's only for me to worry about, not you." I didn't want Rowan to involve herself in my problems, knowing it could possibly get her in trouble…or worse.
She sighed. "I know, but it just seems unhealthy for you to be constantly worrying about him." Changing the subject, she said with a smile, "So, Charms Class in half an hour…what spell are you most looking forward to learning?"
I sighed. "Oh, far too many to count. I just hope there's at least one spell we'll learn that will be useful to finding my brother."
"I'm sure you will," Rowan nodded in understanding. "Supposedly today, we're learning Lumos. That should be incredibly useful if you're searching in a dark place."
That statement made me instantly think of that dark corridor I wandered through in my dream that was filling with ice. If I had known that charm in the dream and used it, what could I have possibly seen in the darkness? That same cold shiver I had felt in my dream crept up my spine at that very moment, and it seemed like it was never going to go away after that.
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"Good morning, young First-Years!" said an incredibly short wizard as Rowan and I entered the Charms Classroom not long after we finished breakfast. It was a miracle we didn't get lost in this massive castle, with many corridors looking so similar. "I hope you are looking forward to your first Charms lesson!"
"Pleased to meet you, Professor Flitwick," I smiled in reply. "I'm really looking forward to Charms."
"Ah, you're Miss Janelle Morgan!" Professor Flitwick said with a flicker of recognition. "If you're anything like your brother, you will do just fine. He was one of my most skilled students. On another hand, he was also one of my most rebellious students." His expression then turned to one of suspicion. "Are you going to follow the rules?"
Without really knowing what to say, I just said the one thing that popped into my head right then and there. "Um, I'll do my best to follow the rules, but I can't make any guarantees."
Professor Flitwick raised an eyebrow at my words, and I suddenly realized that what I said may not have been the best thing to say, especially to a teacher. The first day of classes was supposed to be a day of making a good first impression on everyone I would meet, student and professor alike, and the exact words I just said—or anything similar—did not live up to that expectation, nor was it going to prove that I was not going to be like my troublesome brother.
"Hmm…very well, Miss Morgan. Please have a seat. Class is about to begin."
Well that went well, I thought dismally to myself as I sat at one of the side wooden benches that looked vaguely like pews in a church.
"It's alright, Jane," Rowan assured me, and I realized I had said what I thought I had said in my head out loud. "I'm sure he knew you actually meant to say something like, 'Are you kidding? Of course I'm gonna follow the rules!' but because you were nervous, it didn't come out the way you expected. Maybe you'll impress him with your Charms skills after today's class, and everything will get better."
"I feel I have no choice but to hold you to that, Rowan," I said with a hint of doubt.
"I know that's what's gonna happen," Rowan insisted as she opened her Standard Book of Spells book. "I can feel it in my bones. You gotta think positive, Jane; otherwise it'll get you nowhere."
As the rest of the students were filing into the classroom, I glanced around to see if I recognized anyone. The magenta-haired girl came in and sat down with a small group of friends on the pew in front of Rowan and I, her hair looking like a rat's nest and apparently out of breath; she must've slept in this morning, I thought. Shortly after she sat down, I saw the chubby-cheeked Slytherin girl with the orange streak in her hair sit on the opposite pew from us, snickering with other Slytherin students, and I couldn't help but think disapprovingly, great, she's in this class? A short while later, Professor Flitwick closed the classroom door with a wave of his wand and climbed up a large pile of books in front of the window. Before he began speaking, he also waved his wand at the window to close the curtains, plunging the room into almost total darkness except for the lamps illuminating the pews at which we were seated, which confused everyone.
"Welcome to your very first Charms Class at Hogwarts," Flitwick said cheerfully. "I will be your instructor, Professor Flitwick. Please pay close attention to the instructions, and take great care practicing the spells you learn. Today we will be learning a very important spell known as the Wand-Lighting Charm. This charm is useful in dark places, whether you are searching a shadowy room for hidden dangers…or trying to find a scroll rolled under the sofa. Lumos!" He waved his wand, and a bright white light appeared at the tip, momentarily blinding everyone, but amazing everyone as well. "Now it's your turn to give it a try," Professor Flitwick continued. "You're probably wondering how. I'll explain it to you. Listen closely…"
About halfway through the lecture, I heard a Gryffindor boy behind me say smugly, "Being in the chivalrous house means I can get away with anything." Suddenly thinking about my brother, I shook my head, thinking the belief to be stupid. Jacob must've had this exact thought whilst he was pursuing the Cursed Vaults, but he let his arrogance get the better of him, which ultimately got him expelled. That's the thing about chivalry—it doesn't always work, and it certainly doesn't mean one can get away with anything; because the truth is, they can't. No one can ever get away with anything. Anyone with a thought process like this often are the ones that get hurt…or much worse. God knows what it had done to my brother.
By the end of the class period, I was starting to get the hang of the Wand-Lighting Charm…or at least the incantation and wand movement. In the beginning, I was able to light my wand tip for a few seconds before it would snuff itself out, but after a while, I was able to make the wand stay lit for longer than a minute. At this point, I was confident that my wand would stay lit for the entire rest of the class time. When Professor Flitwick said, "It's time to cast the Wand-Lighting Charm," I was confident enough to volunteer to light my wand first. "Off you go then," he instructed me, and I prepared to cast my first charm.
"Lumos!" I cried as I waved my wand, and I couldn't help but grin as the tip of my wand lit with the brightest white light I had ever seen. Many people, including Professor Flitwick, shielded their eyes from the blinding light that I had conjured from my wand tip. "Whoa!" I exclaimed with shock and amazement.
"Well done, Miss Morgan," Professor Flitwick praised me. "That's the best execution of the Wand-Lighting Charm I've seen from a first-year in quite some time. Ten points to Gryffindor!" Every First-Year Gryffindor cheered happily.
Wow! I got House Points in my very first class! And here I thought I was going to blind everyone to death, or not conjure any light at all, but it actually worked!
"Nice work, Jane!" Rowan congratulated me after I cast Nox, the counter-spell that put the light out. "I read everything I could find on the Wand-Lighting Charm, and yours was still better. You're a natural. Told ya you'd impress him!"
My excitement suddenly diminished as a disturbing realization dawned on me. Earlier that morning, I had heard the stories of what the professor that taught Potions was like; he was not a very nice guy, and certainly not one that would be willing to give House Points to anyone who was not in Slytherin, which he was the Head of. Before I cast the Wand-Lighting Charm, I had dreaded to think of what Professor Flitwick would do if I had failed it. After hearing the rumors of what Professor Severus Snape would do to people who failed his potions—which, I heard, were even worse than any of the typical punishments that Muggle children would be given—I was not feeling so confident anymore.
"Potions is next," I said nervously. "I have a feeling facing Snape won't be so easy…"
Right after Professor Flitwick announced the end of the lesson, I had the unfortunate accident of catching the eye of the chubby-cheeked Slytherin girl, who glared at me with a murderous stare. I actually meant 'murderous,' because she looked like she literally wanted to murder me on the spot as we exited the classroom. I dreaded to think of what would happen if, in one of our other classes, I had won more House Points and 'stolen her thunder again,' so to speak. I didn't think I wanted to find out.
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Toward the end of lunch, about fifteen minutes before our next class, I had remembered that I had forgotten my Potions textbook and had to retrieve it from the dorm. Rowan volunteered to come with me, but since she already had her book, I told her to go straight to the Dungeons once she was done eating and I would meet her there, as it would take me a few extra minutes to go back to the dorm and get my book. I ran back to Gryffindor Tower immediately after.
Once I got my Potions book—I had, at least, remembered to bring my cauldron—I jogged down to the Dungeons, which was, in my opinion, the coldest part of the entire castle. The Dungeons were also dimly lit, almost to the point where one would feel required to use Lumos to navigate; even the green-tinted torches hanging along every wall weren't enough light. I continued jogging through the cold and barely lit hallways until I heard the voices of two girls shouting at each other from around the corner. As I rounded the corner, I saw Rowan being verbally abused by the chubby-cheeked Slytherin girl right outside the Potions Classroom.
"Say it!" Chubby-Cheeks yelled furiously in Rowan's face, her horrible breath fogging up her glasses. "Go on! Say I'm the most powerful witch at Hogwarts! Say it!"
"I can't!" Rowan shouted back in apparent panic. "It's logically impossible! I've made numerous lists of the most powerful witches at Hogwarts based on multiple factors. You're less powerful than Professor McGonagall, Professor Sprout, Madam Hooch, Madam Pomfrey, every single seventh-year… You're just a first-year like me!"
"I'm nothing like you!" the nasty Slytherin said, taking an aggressive step towards Rowan with her wand pointing—practically shoving—right under her chin. "Say it now before I give you a pair of buckteeth to go with those ridiculous glasses!"
That was the final straw. I couldn't just let this happen to Rowan any longer. Any longer, and Rowan might surely have to wear massive buckteeth for the rest of the day, possibly even the rest of the year. If anyone was going to be receiving buckteeth from this awful girl between the two of us, it was going to be me.
"Hey!" I shouted as I advanced on Chubby-Cheeks with an aggressive stare. "Leave her alone!" I shoved her by the shoulders, and she stumbled backwards a few steps.
"Ugh! Who do you think you are?" Chubby-Cheeks spat at me with a disgusted growl. "No one shoves me away; certainly not a puny-nosed eavesdropper like you!" These words instantly made me remember the moment on the Hogwarts Express, when she and the other Slytherin boy mentioned the 'Morgan Incident,' and she had caught me listening in to her conversation. The possible fact that this girl could also be in pursuit of the Cursed Vaults, just like my brother, sent a shiver down my spine.
"You may recall earlier today that Professor Flitwick said she cast the best Wand-Lighting Charm of any first-year," Rowan said with high praise, nodding to me. She was seemingly now regaining her confidence, mainly because the fight was now two against one. "If anyone should be claiming to be the best witch, it should be Jane!"
"Jane?" Chubby-Cheeks raised a skeptical eyebrow at me. She looked me up and down, sizing me up, and then rolled her eyes in apparent recognition. "Oh, now I know exactly who you are. You're Janelle Morgan, Jacob Morgan's freak sister. Your brother lost his mind, disgraced his house, got expelled from school, and was never heard from again. You clearly belong in Gryffindor, since the majority of your family were Gryffindors; although, if I had my way, I'd have Sorted you into the Nuthouse of Cursed Freaks. That is where you truly belong."
"And…who the hell are you to tell me what House I should belong in?" I said with a roll of my eyes. I was really starting to get fed up with this girl, and my patience was wearing incredibly thin as well.
"Merula Snyde!" she said in an obvious tone. "First-year Slytherin! The best witch at Hogwarts!"
"Not anymore, from what I've read about her parents in the Daily Prophet," Rowan murmured in my ear loud enough for Merula—I had much preferred to call her 'Chubby-Cheeks'—not to hear. I was about to ask her what she meant by that, but I immediately realized now was not the best time to ask. I made a mental note to ask about it after Merula was out of earshot.
"I overheard the professors whispering about you at the Feast last night," Merula said snootily in my face, as if the very thought would scare me—which it didn't, but it did, however, concern me a little, making me wonder what sorts of things they could be talking about me. Either that was true, or Merula was totally lying to take some advantage over me, which I was never going to let happen. "I suppose you think you're better than me. I should put you out of your misery before you ruin Hogwarts like your brother tried to."
I sighed, desperately wanting this pointless torture to be over already. "Okay, I don't know what you have against me or my family, but I promise, I just want to learn spells and potions like everybody else. I don't want any trouble, especially not from you." It was the truth. The more spells and potions I learned, the more knowledge I would obtain to use them to find my brother, and I certainly was not going to allow Merula to distract me from reaching that goal.
"You don't have a choice," Merula sniggered, shaking her head. "You don't stand a chance against anything in those Cursed Vaults…if they even exist. You're just as worthless as all the rest of the lousy First-Years."
"You're just afraid I'm more powerful than you!" I snapped back. It was like something else had taken over my lips and made me say those words. I couldn't stop them from coming out of my mouth, and yet they did anyway, and I had no control. I wondered if this was what Ollivander was talking about when he sensed there was a lot of fight in me. Apparently I had no control of my mouth when it came to anger.
In apparent disgust, Merula growled, raising her wand, "We can find out who's more powerful right now!" She took an aggressive step forward, and I took an equally aggressive step towards her, blocking Rowan from any spells Merula might cast at us.
Before a duel would ensue between us, a stern male voice called from the shadows behind Rowan and I, "Morgan! I knew you would be trouble."
"Professor Snape!" Merula gasped in mock surprise, swiftly concealing her wand under the sleeve of her green-clad robes.
Rowan and I abruptly turned to see a tall man with shoulder-length black hair and even darker robes standing behind us, stabbing at our hearts with eyes of sharp daggers.
I stood forward. "Merula was bullying my friend, Professor. I was jus—"
"Get to Potions Class," Professor Snape demanded in a careless tone. "Be thankful you aren't headed to detention." He then stomped into the Potions Classroom. Merula followed close behind, but not before giving us a snooty smirk as she walked past.
"Thanks for standing up for me, Jane," Rowan sighed in relief after both Merula and Snape were out of earshot. "I've never been very strong or any good at making friends. I'm glad that you and I are both in Gryffindor."
"Did you hear what Merula said?" I said, feeling slightly offended as I stared after Merula. "Why would the professors be talking about me?" I then turned back to Rowan and asked under my breath, "Also, what was it you read about Merula's parents in the Daily Prophet?"
"I don't know why the professors would be talking about you," Rowan said, shaking her head. "About Merula's parents, I'll tell you after class—away from Merula…like, far away. Right now, we'd better get to Potions. We're in enough trouble as it is."
Because Rowan and I were the last two students to enter the classroom, of course the last two seats available were at the table right next to the one person I had no intention of sitting near: Merula Snyde. As if this day couldn't get any worse, I thought dismally to myself as I reluctantly took my seat next to Merula.
"This is your first Potions Class," Professor Snape said in a bored tone, "and based on the bewildered look in your eyes, this could very well be your last. Unlike your other classes, this is not a place for foolish wand-waving and intolerable screeching of mispronounced incantations. You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. Ensnare the senses. Bewitch the mind. Keep your mouths shut. Today you will produce a simple Cure for Boils Potion. Know that I expect perfection, and know that there will be severe consequences for failing to meet my expectations. Let us begin."
Sheesh, this guy is cranky, I thought with a disapproved frown. Potions was one of the many classes I was most looking forward to this year, but so far it had become my least favorite class, because I had to be stuck in the class for two whole hours with the grouchiest professor and the meanest student in the school. I honestly didn't know how I was going to survive this year with these two, but at least I had Rowan on my side.
About fifteen minutes into the tedious lecture, I noticed that Merula was failing to contain her obvious laughter. She was snorting under her breath while glancing at my cauldron, as if she had secretly hexed my cauldron into making funny faces—or a series of profound obscenities about me—appear on its surface that only she could see. Her eyes then shifted to the shelf behind me and back to my cauldron again, and her laughter increased slightly in volume and pitch.
I couldn't help myself asking, "What's so funny?"
"You think you're so special," she snorted, "but you're already guaranteed to fail, Morgan."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I frowned at her.
Merula's laughter increased to a high-pitched squeak as she smiled mischievously, "You'll see."
I suddenly felt a nudge from Rowan as she murmured, "Ignore her, Jane. After getting reprimanded by Snape, we need to brew this potion perfectly."
Snape must have overheard us, because he raised his voice and said, luckily without turning around, "Do not make me repeat myself. Focus!" Those words hit me like a stab to the chest, and I had no problem staying quiet during the entire rest of the class, as long as Merula agreed to keep her nasty mouth shut as well. She at least was able to do that much, but she could not, however, contain her laughter and prevent her eyes from moving between the shelf and my cauldron. I risked a quick glance behind me, but all I could see were the bottles of powdery potion ingredients sitting innocently on the shelf. There didn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary about them that Merula could possibly be interested in. For all I knew, she could be laughing at an imaginary friend.
The Cure for Boils Potions was, surprisingly, quite an easy potion to brew. The instructions in the textbook were very simple to follow, and the potion ingredients were not so difficult to find. The only problem I had with the hands-down exercise was making sure that Merula wasn't doing anything to purposefully mess up my potion. I couldn't exactly watch Merula and gather my ingredients at the same time, and Rowan wasn't technically obligated to watch her either, so I felt paranoid whenever I had to leave my work station to gather more ingredients. Over all though, the potion went very smoothly.
I couldn't help feeling incredibly proud once I finished the last step of the instructions. "I did it!" I cried happily. "I brewed my first potion!"
"Congratulations, Jane!" Rowan smiled. "In all my research, hardly anyone ever brews this potion correctly on their first try."
"Hmm…" Snape said as he leaned over my potion for inspection. "Perhaps Morgan isn't absolutely incompetent after all."
"Thank you, Professor!" I couldn't help smiling. The entire time, I thought I was going to somehow screw up the potion, but I actually brewed it perfectly on my first try without fail! I never felt more proud of myself, even when I had impressed Professor Flitwick with the Wand-Lighting Charm.
Suddenly, I noticed something strange happening in my cauldron. The potion had started to boil on its own and change to a disgusting green color. "What the hell!" I exclaimed in confusion. "What's happening to my potion?"
I instantly heard Merula start sniggering loudly again, and I was about to ask her about it when Rowan spoke up in a nervous tone, "Did you add Bulbadox Powder? From my studies, this looks like the beginnings of the explosive reaction caused by adding Bulbadox Powder." As she said these words, she was cautiously backing away from the table and looking prepared to duck and cover.
At this point, the cauldron was boiling at an alarming rate, large bubbles appearing like warts on a hag's dry skin. The cauldron even started hissing and wailing like a tea kettle, and I saw many students turn their heads toward me, Slytherins with keen interest and non-Slytherins with concern. I was speechless, and my body had somehow become a lifeless statue as my brain was having trouble processing what was going on. I couldn't do anything but watch as my cauldron began shaking on its stumps and a giant green cloud rising up from the rim, like smoke from a volcano that was seconds away from erupting.
"Do something, Jane!" Rowan cried in sheer panic.
Before I could ask what I could possibly do to stop what was about to happen next, my cauldron suddenly exploded into several pieces, sending its contents spilling everywhere on the table and floor, and a cloud of green mist rose into the air in a vague mushroom shape.
Merula laughed harder than ever. "Congratulations. You have cured the table of boils." All other Slytherins began laughing with her.
"You should have never been allowed inside my classroom, Morgan!" Snape shouted in an apparent outrage. "You are somehow even worse than your brother. Twenty points from Gryffindor! What do you have to say for yourself?"
I couldn't believe that just happened. My cauldron exploded into a million pieces in front of the entire class, and I had absolutely no idea what had caused it! I knew for a fact I had followed the instructions exactly as they were written in the book; there was no way I accidentally missed a step…did I?
And where the hell did Bulbadox Powder come from? That was not on the list of ingredients.
Unless…
Merula! She had been glancing back and forth between my cauldron and the bottles of powdery potion ingredients behind me. I'll bet that was where the Bulbadox Powder had come from. She must have sneakily poured the stuff into my cauldron while I was getting the other ingredients. Maybe I should've forced Rowan to watch her after all.
I figured if I blamed Merula for this mess, Snape might surely have taken more House Points away. He had already taken away all the points that Professor Flitwick had granted me that morning (five points for answering a question correctly during the lecture, and ten points for my flawless spell-casting), which were my first points of the year, and I had lost all of them plus five extra for this. I couldn't help but think whether Professor Flitwick sensed those points were taken away and was now disappointed in me for allowing this to happen, even when this was most likely not my fault.
I said the only thing I could say. "I'm sorry, Professor. I don't know what happened with my potion. I didn't mean to let you down, sir."
Snape sighed with a roll of his eyes. "You didn't let me down, Morgan. My expectations for you are incredibly low. Clean up this mess immediately before I deduct more House Points! And tonight, you will return to the classroom and redo the potion, this time without fail, and you will use one of the school cauldrons in place of your own cauldron if you can't get it fixed in time. The rest of you, dismissed! I've had enough of all of you for one day." He eventually walked away without another word.
"It's only going to get worse, Morgan," Merula sniggered loudly. "You should've known that coating your cauldron with Bulbadox Powder would make your potion explode. I certainly did."
"You did this!" I growled spitefully at her with tears pricking my eyes. I wanted so badly to jinx her where she stood, but that would get me in even more trouble.
"Maybe I did," Merula continued sniggering, "but you, nor your little bookworm, have no proof of that. Now there's no doubt that I'm the most important first-year, and you're nothing but a disgrace just like your brother. Thanks for putting on a good show, Morgan." She laughed hysterically with her Slytherin friends as they left the classroom.
I couldn't contain my anger any longer. Hot tears started running down my cheeks as I began carefully picking up the broken shards of my cauldron and placing them in my book bag. I planned to ask another student who knew any repairing spells to fix my cauldron later.
"I'm sorry, Jane," Rowan said sympathetically as she laid a gentle hand on my shoulder. "I'm sure you did your best on that potion. Come on, we should get back to the Common Room before we get in any more trouble. I'm sure there's an upper Gryffindor student that can use Reparo to fix your cauldron. Maybe our Prefect could help."
"Our Prefect?" I asked in dismay, wiping my eyes on my robe sleeve. "That's exactly the person I don't want to see right now." The last thing I wanted was to be reprimanded by our Prefect about the loss of House Points—twenty House Points to be exact, which now put me at a negative amount (if there was even such a thing). I had already put a bad rap on myself just for revealing the fact that Jacob Morgan was my brother, and now this. Any more lousy mistakes, and I was going to be the sole laughing stock in all of Hogwarts history.
"What choice do we have?" Rowan shrugged. "She's the only person who could help us, and you need your cauldron fixed before you return here tonight to redo your Cure for Boils Potion…and before our next Potions Class on Wednesday."
I sighed. If getting reprimanded by our Prefect wasn't going to be the worst thing of the day—or even the year—I didn't know what else.