Progress

Sal had prepared extensively for Potions before arriving at Hogwarts, spending hours crafting every potion from his textbook. Along the way, he noticed inconsistencies and flaws in some of the recipes, prompting him to refine them through trial and error. His notebook was filled with detailed annotations and observations, though he hadn't managed to finish revising all the potions before the school year began.

As a result, Sal found himself genuinely curious to meet his Potions professor and see if he could expand his understanding further.

When the class began, Professor Snape swept into the room, his robes billowing dramatically behind him. His cold, calculating gaze silenced the room instantly. Snape's reputation for strictness was well-known, but as the lesson progressed, Sal noted that Snape was not unfair—just demanding.

Sal followed each instruction to the letter, carefully measuring and stirring with precision. While he didn't earn any house points for his efforts, Snape's subtle nod of approval at his flawless potion hinted that he had done well.

As the class ended, Sal packed up his things, feeling that Potions might actually turn out to be one of his favorite subjects. Snape's exacting standards reminded him of his tutors back home, and he welcomed the challenge.

Tonks nudged him as they exited the classroom. "I was sure he was going to take points from you for breathing too loudly."

Sal grinned. "He's strict, but I think I can learn a lot from him."

"Better you than me," Tulip muttered. "I just hope I survive this year without melting my cauldron."

Sal laughed. "Let me know if you need help. I've already brewed most of these potions before."

"Show-off," Tonks teased, but her smile was warm.

Sal's next class was Herbology, and he found himself curious about what magical plants he'd encounter. While Potions relied heavily on ingredients, Herbology seemed to be the root of it all—quite literally.

The greenhouse was warm and humid, filled with the scent of soil and greenery. Professor Sprout stood at the front, her hands dirt-stained and a broad smile on her face. "Welcome to Herbology! Today we'll be working with Mandrakes. Can anyone tell me why these plants are dangerous?"

Sal raised his hand, but Tonks beat him to it. "Their cries can knock you out—or worse, if they're mature."

"Exactly! Five points to Hufflepuff," Professor Sprout said cheerfully. "Now, everyone, grab your earmuffs."

Sal pulled on a pair of fluffy earmuffs, watching as the baby Mandrakes squirmed in their pots. As they began to repot the wriggling plants, Sal noted how delicate the roots were and took extra care not to damage them.

Tonks, on the other hand, wrestled with hers as if it were a particularly stubborn garden gnome.

"Hold it gently, not like you're trying to choke it," Sal said with a grin.

"Easy for you to say," Tonks grumbled, finally managing to shove her Mandrake into its new pot.

Professor Sprout passed by and gave Sal an approving nod. "Good work, Mister Cross. Ten points to Hufflepuff."

Tulip wiped her brow dramatically. "I thought Potions would be the hard class, not gardening with screaming vegetables."

Sal laughed. "It's all connected. You never know when one of these plants might save your life."

By the end of class, Sal's robes were dusty, but he felt accomplished. As they exited the greenhouse, Tonks looked over at him.

"You really do know way too much about all this stuff. Were you raised in a magical garden or something?"

"Just prepared," Sal replied, adjusting his bag. "Besides, I like plants. They don't scream unless absolutely necessary."

Tonks laughed. "Fair point."

In the quiet of the headmaster's office, Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk, his fingers steepled thoughtfully as the Hogwarts staff gathered for their weekly meeting. It had been a week since young Sal had started school, and Dumbledore was eager to hear how he was settling in.

"So, how has young Sal been doing?" Dumbledore asked, his blue eyes twinkling with curiosity.

"He's very talented," Flitwick replied immediately, his voice full of admiration.

"Bored," Minerva McGonagall said flatly, adjusting her glasses.

"A prodigy," Pomona Sprout chimed in with a warm smile. "He handled the Mandrakes as well as some of my third years."

Severus Snape, leaning back slightly in his chair, added, "I've noticed he's made a number of refinements and notes in his Potions textbook. His approach is... unorthodox but effective."

Dumbledore sighed softly. "I was afraid this might happen. He needs to be challenged, and he won't find that with the first-year curriculum."

"We can't just move him up a year," McGonagall pointed out. "Even if he is a prodigy, it wouldn't be fair to the other students."

"I understand," Dumbledore said with a nod. "Which is why I propose a compromise. We test him across all subjects to determine his strengths and where he stands academically. Then, if he excels, we offer him the opportunity to specialize in an advanced class while he continues with his peers for the rest of his subjects."

McGonagall considered the idea carefully. "I can administer the same exams I give my older students. That should give us a clear sense of his abilities."

"Excellent. I'd like the rest of you to do the same," Dumbledore instructed, glancing around the room.

The professors exchanged looks but nodded in agreement.

"I believe Sal has great potential," Dumbledore said, a small smile forming. "Let's ensure he finds Hogwarts as enriching as possible."

It was the weekend when Sal received a note delivered by a school owl. The parchment was crisp, and the handwriting elegant but firm. As he unfolded it, his eyes lit up with excitement.

The note read:

Mister Cross,

You will spend all day Monday undergoing advanced testing in Transfiguration. Each day next week, you will be evaluated in a different subject by the respective professors. Please prepare accordingly.

—A. Dumbledore

Sal could hardly contain his excitement. "Finally, a chance to show what I'm made of!"

Still, he knew he had to stay focused. "But first, I need to work on Herbology and Potions," he muttered to himself.

Over the past week, Sal had quickly realized that while he excelled in spellwork—particularly in Charms and Transfiguration—Potions and Herbology were equally vital. His tutors had emphasized that mastering Herbology was often the key to excelling in Potions. After all, knowing the properties and behavior of magical plants was essential to crafting successful brews.

Determined, Sal spent the rest of Saturday afternoon in the greenhouse. The warmth and humidity enveloped him as he knelt by a tray of young Screechsnap seedlings, carefully pruning and observing how the plants reacted to touch. He recalled Professor Sprout's lessons, making mental notes on their properties and how they could be used in calming draughts and vitality potions.

Later that evening, Sal set up a small cauldron in the Hufflepuff common room under the watchful eye of the house elves. He practiced brewing simple potions—Strengthening Solutions, Pepperup Potions, and Wiggenweld Draughts—carefully refining the techniques he had learned from his tutors. As he stirred, he referenced his annotated textbook, tweaking the ingredients for better results.

Tonks flopped onto the couch nearby, watching him curiously. "You know, you might actually melt that cauldron with all your 'refining,' Sal."

He grinned, not looking up from his work. "I'll take that risk. Better to melt a cauldron now than mess up in Snape's class."

On Sunday morning, Sal shifted his focus to Transfiguration. He practiced transforming teacups into tortoises and back again, ensuring each detail was perfect. His goal wasn't just to perform the spell but to understand the essence of the object he was transforming. Transfiguration, his tutors often said, was about fully comprehending the identity of the item.

As Sal worked, Tulip sat across from him at the table, twirling her wand idly. "You're taking this a lot more seriously than the rest of us."

"It's not just a test," Sal replied, pausing to examine a partially transfigured object. "It's a chance to push myself. If Dumbledore's offering me the opportunity to go further, I'm not going to waste it."

By Sunday evening, Sal had rotated between subjects, dedicating time to each one. As he tucked his books away, he felt a growing sense of readiness.

"Tomorrow's the day," he whispered to himself, his eyes flickering with excitement. "Time to show them what I can do."

Monday soon arrived, and Sal made his way to Professor McGonagall's classroom for his Transfiguration test. The room was quiet, with sunlight streaming through the tall windows, casting long shadows on the floor. McGonagall stood at the front, her expression calm but focused.

"Alright, Sal, this test will have several stages divided by year. Each year's exam consists of both a written and practical section," Minerva explained. "We'll start with the first-year exam. Let me know when you're ready to begin."

Sal nodded, feeling confident. "I'm ready."

The practical section was straightforward—turning matchsticks into needles, teacups into tortoises. Sal moved through each task effortlessly, his wand movements precise and deliberate. The written portion was equally simple; he had already studied most of it in preparation. McGonagall observed him closely, noting his attention to detail even though he was still only on the first-year material.

By the time Sal completed the exam, McGonagall stepped forward. "That's enough for now. Take a break and head to lunch while I grade this portion."

Sal smiled. "Thank you, Professor."

In the Great Hall, Tulip and Tonks waved him over. "Hey, Sal! How's it going?" Tulip asked, sliding down the bench to make room.

"It's going well. I finished the first-year portion," Sal replied, taking a seat.

Tonks laughed. "A whole year's worth of work done before lunch, huh?"

"Something like that," Sal said with a grin as he tucked into his meal.

Back in the classroom, McGonagall sat at her desk, reviewing Sal's work. She was impressed by the accuracy and detail, suspecting that Sal hadn't even shown the full extent of his knowledge. She marked his results—Outstanding in both written and practical sections.

When Sal returned, McGonagall greeted him with a nod. "Welcome back, Mr. Cross. I've graded your work. You achieved Outstanding. Now, let's proceed to the second-year portion."

The second-year practical wasn't much harder, but the written exam required more specificity in explanations. Sal carefully articulated each answer, though the increasing complexity of the material began to show. He progressed steadily until he reached the fourth-year level, where a few small mistakes began to emerge.

As the clock neared the end of the day, McGonagall lowered her quill. "That's it for today. I'll grade the rest and send your results to the Headmaster. Congratulations—you've impressed me."

Sal grinned. "Thank you, Professor."

The following day, Sal entered Professor Flitwick's classroom, where the small, energetic professor stood atop his stack of books. "Welcome, Mr. Cross! Today's testing will follow the same structure as Transfiguration—divided by year. We'll begin with the basics in Charms."

Flitwick flicked his wand, and feathers appeared on each desk. "Let's start with Wingardium Leviosa."

Sal levitated the feather effortlessly, but instead of simply floating it, he had it twist and perform loops mid-air. Flitwick chuckled. "Very good. Now, let's move on to second-year material. Try summoning this book."

Sal pointed his wand at the far desk. "Accio!" The book zipped across the room into his hand without issue. Flitwick continued, introducing more complex spells—Disarming Charms, Stunning Spells, and even a few Shield Charms. By the time Sal reached fourth-year material, Flitwick watched with keen interest.

"Remarkable control," Flitwick said, awarding Sal points as he passed each section. "You've clearly practiced beyond your years. Let's see how you handle the Patronus Charm."

Sal hesitated for a moment. "I haven't tried that one yet."

Flitwick smiled. "Give it a go. Just focus on a happy memory."

Sal took a breath, raised his wand, and focused. "Expecto Patronum!" A faint, silver mist emerged, flickering slightly before fading. Flitwick nodded approvingly. "Very few can even produce mist on their first try. Well done, Sal."

The dungeons were cooler than the rest of the castle, and Sal felt the shift in atmosphere as he entered. Professor Snape regarded him with his usual stern expression. "Today, you will brew several potions, starting with the first-year syllabus."

Sal set up his cauldron, opting to use his personal, annotated textbook. As he brewed the Cure for Boils, Snape's sharp gaze lingered over his shoulder, watching each step with scrutiny.

"Impressive consistency," Snape remarked as Sal moved seamlessly into second-year potions. The Wiggenweld Potion shimmered perfectly by the end of the lesson. By the third and fourth-year potions, Snape noticed Sal adjusting the recipes.

"You altered the ratios," Snape said, narrowing his eyes.

"Yes, sir. I found the standard recipe inefficient during my studies. The adjustment increases potency."

Snape was silent for a long moment before giving a curt nod. "Continue."

Sal's potions were near perfect by the end of the exam, earning him quiet approval from Snape.

In the greenhouse, Professor Sprout handed out gloves and earmuffs. "Today, Sal, you'll be handling more advanced plants. We'll start with Mandrakes and gradually move up to Venomous Tentacula."

Sal repotted Mandrakes with ease, careful to handle their delicate roots. Sprout watched approvingly as he dealt with fanged geraniums and moving snapdragons.

"You have a natural hand with plants, Mr. Cross. Excellent work," Sprout praised, awarding points as Sal handled the more aggressive specimens with grace.

By the end of the week, Sal felt accomplished and ready for whatever came next.