The very first thing Professor Snape did was sneer at Harry Potter. Nico frowned as Draco and his gang giggled. Snape droned about the glories of potions while Nico pondered how well he'd do. Judging by Snape's obvious hatred toward Gryffindor's, not well.
"Potter!" Snape said suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Nico's quick reflexes caused him to suddenly snap up and out of his thoughts. Seeing no monsters, he forced his mind to catch up with his body. Asphodel, what? Did they actually have a root from the Fields of Asphodel? Nico doubted it, but in a world of demigods and apparently wizards, anything is possible.
"I don't know, sir," Harry mumbled.
Everyone in the class had confused expressions, except for the Slytherins who were delighted at seeing The Boy Who Lived fidget under Professor Snape's glare. Nico frowned. He might not be best friends with Harry, or really friends for that matter, but did Snape really have to harass him?
"Fame clearly isn't everything," Snape sneered. "Let's try again. Where would you look if I told you to find a bezoar?"
Nico noticed Hermione's hand waving in the air, trying to catch Snape's attention.
"I don't know, sir," Harry said.
"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, Potter?"
Nico interrupted, "Excuse me, Professor, but I highly doubt anyone in this class knows what those things are, except for Hermione. Why don't you call on her?"
Snape turned coldly toward Hermione and snapped, "Sit down. Five points each from Gryffindor for your mouth and his ignorance. Now for your information, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Death. A bezoar is taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. Well? Why aren't you all copying this down?"
The sudden sound of quills scribbling over parchment could be heard. Nico wrote furiously. After a few sentences, his scribbling dulled down, and Nico wished they used pens instead of quills. The constant need for redipping his quill was beginning to annoy him. He wondered how hard it would be to sneak in a pen. After they had finished, they were put into groups for actual potions making. Nico was paired up with Hermione, who looked down at the prospect of making a simple potion - a cure for boils.
"Add six, er, seven cake fangs to the mortar?" Nico read.
Hermione narrowed her eyes and took the book from Nico.
"It says, 'add six snake fangs to the mortar'. Nico, can you read?" she questioned.
"I just have dyslexia," he said.
"Well, you better get it checked after class. Here, I'll read and you can get the ingredients."
Nico agreed silently and expertly gathered the ingredients, prepared them, and stirred them in. He felt it was just like summoning the dead, only much simpler. Easy as pie. The only thing different was that there were more steps to a potion. Nico watched as Snape passed by their cauldron without a single word to them. Nico smirked.
The other students, however, weren't doing as well. Clouds of sick green smoke filled the air and a sharp hissing sound erupted from a cauldron. It was Neville's and Dean's cauldron that melted and spewed out the horrendous odors. Their potion seeped onto the floor, burning holes into anything that wasn't stone. Nico climbed up onto the stool and watched as Neville suddenly erupted in red, irritated boils. He wailed in agony and Nico felt bad for him as he was whisked to the Hospital Wing. Nico watched as Professor Snape berated Harry and took points from Gryffindor yet again. Harry opened his mouth to protest, but he quickly shut it.
Within the next hour, Nico and Hermione were able to brew a perfect potion, one that brought a reluctantly impressed grunt from Professor Snape. They left the class and Nico wandered around the grand halls of Hogwarts. He had the afternoon off, so he could finally start his new quest. He was on the seventh floor when he felt Tom Riddle's soul again. Nico followed it and it led him to a brick wall. He frowned and walked around the wall, searching for a door. He walked around the corridors three more times just to be sure. This time, there was a door that definitely wasn't there the other times.
Stupid magic school, Nico thought as he entered the room. The room was packed with millions of trinkets, furniture, and various things. It was lined with colorful toys and everything Nico could think of. The room looked as if it stretched on forever, and the soul felt like it was buried under everything. Nico's senses reached out, and he could only get a blurry reading on where the soul was.
"Great," Nico mumbled.
He walked deeper into the room. Several items caught his eye, and he had to stop himself from checking them out. There were so many items, some that were centuries old. Nico stopped. The feeling of the soul stretched across three shelves, and Nico groaned. He would have to search each individual item to find the blasted thing! He slumped and started on the first shelf.
The first thing he found was a plain, silvery watch. Upon seeing that it displayed the current time accurately, Nico put it on. He didn't want to accidentally spend two weeks in there. Last time he did that… well, Nico didn't want to think about the last time he spent weeks searching for something only to forget how fast time flew by. He moved onto the other items. After searching for two hours and only finding lumps of dust, stupid hats, and a banjo, Nico sighed and left the room. He was sure that if he didn't show up at dinner, someone was going to get suspicious.
A/N: Here's that last chapter I have written! Thank you for all of the reviews! I appreciate them very much! Unfortunately, I didn't get BOO for Christmas, and I prefer reading a hard copy v.s. a digital copy. Fortunately, one of my friends did, so I'll get to read BOO anyway!