Chapter 494: Snape’s Favoritism

As soon as the storage cupboard opened, students surged forward, though a few struggled to hop along with legs bound tightly together.

"Mr. Baggins… cease these idiotic antics in my classroom!" Snape's voice cut sharply across the room, targeting Ryan, who was stuck at the edge of the crowd, still trying to inch his way forward despite his bound legs.

"Tell me, Mr. Baggins," Snape sneered, "is it truly possible that in your fifth year you cannot even lift a simple Leg-Locker Curse? If so, I suggest you spare both Hogwarts and yourself any further embarrassment by going home now."

Without giving Ryan a chance to explain, Snape waved his wand. But to his shock, Ryan's legs remained firmly stuck together. Snape's eyes narrowed, first assuming Ryan was putting on a show, but after yanking the boy's legs himself, he realized that Ryan's binding was genuine.

"What nonsense is this?" Snape's expression grew even darker as he tried again, casting a stronger counter-curse. This time, an orange light shot from the tip of his wand, and Ryan's legs finally separated.

"Ten points from Hufflepuff," Snape said icily. "If I catch you pulling this foolishness again, it'll be fifty."

"Sorry, Professor, but it wasn't my choice," Ryan said. "Professor Moody used the curse in class to test our Shield Charms…"

"Alastor Moody?" Snape's face froze momentarily, his dislike for the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor evident. "Why didn't you say that sooner?"

"You didn't give me a chance to," Ryan muttered. "But thanks for releasing me, Professor Snape. Otherwise, I'd have been hopping around like this all day."

Ryan felt a smug satisfaction. Unlike Moody, Snape was no supporter of the curse staying in place for the whole day, so he had no qualms about finally being freed from it.

Snape, meanwhile, fumed silently. He and Moody had never been on good terms, and now he'd released one of Moody's spells—no doubt the paranoid Auror would see it as a personal slight.

Snape watched Ryan retreat toward the storage cupboard, almost reconsidering binding his legs again, only to realize that he hadn't learned the particular modified Leg-Locker Curse that Moody had used.

"Damn it," Snape muttered under his breath. He should have probed more before dispelling the spell.

The other students, who had been stuck hopping along as well, now clustered around him with hopeful looks in their eyes.

"Back to your potions… NOW!" Snape snarled, sending the students scattering back to their cauldrons. "And let me warn you, I'll be choosing someone at random to drink their Draught of Peace at the end of class. If anyone messes up even a single step…" he added, "I'll personally arrange the most comfortable bed for you in the Hospital Wing."

The atmosphere in the classroom shifted to one of immediate focus. Snape's fury had cowed everyone, leaving them grumbling quietly about how unfair it was for Ryan's curse to be lifted while they were left to suffer.

Across the room, Kyle watched the unfolding drama, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter until Kanna nudged him, prompting him to compose himself.

"Ahem… I was just laughing at how Ryan's lack of a chance to speak was… well, rather ridiculous," Kyle explained, feigning innocence. "Nothing to do with Professor Snape. Really!"

Kanna raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced, but let it go.

With the episode behind them, it was time to start brewing the Draught of Peace. As one of the trickiest potions featured on the O.W.L. exams, the Draught of Peace required absolute precision in every aspect, from ingredient preparation to flame control. The timing, stirring method, and even the flame temperature had to be followed precisely to avoid disastrous results.

For over an hour, the classroom was silent. Every student was tensely focused on their cauldron, eyes glued to each step of the brewing process.

"Your potions should now be emitting a silvery-white vapor," Snape announced, his voice cutting through the tense silence as he began making rounds through the classroom with less than ten minutes remaining.

"Urquhart, tell me what this is."

"Adrian, I'd recommend reviewing line three of the instructions."

"Stir clockwise three times, not seven…" Snape moved down the rows, his scornful comments leaving students shrinking in their seats as he ruthlessly highlighted every mistake. But when he passed by Kyle and Kanna, he said nothing, merely continuing on with a glance of reluctant approval. He stopped in front of Mikel's cauldron with a bemused expression.

If Kyle and Kanna's potion was faultlessly prepared, Mikel's was its polar opposite. Though his cauldron emitted the required silvery steam, the contents looked more like a bubbling, grey-brown sludge that resembled melted Quaffle.

After a brief stare, Snape, rather than his usual derision, just sighed. "You… never mind. Five points from Hufflepuff," he muttered, as though he'd given up trying to understand Mikel's results.

As class ended, Kyle carefully decanted his potion into a bottle, sealing it with a cork. Beside him, Mikel scraped his own mixture into a container with a paring knife, the sludge reluctantly dropping into his vial, thick as jelly. Kyle held his breath, worried that even a drop of Mikel's concoction could have unintended consequences, but Mikel managed without incident.

The bell rang, and everyone hurried out, excitedly anticipating the weekend ahead. But as they reached the foyer, they found their way blocked by a large crowd gathered around the notice board near the Marble Staircase.

"It's just a Hogsmeade weekend," Kanna said, confused. "Why are they all so worked up?"

"No, it's something else…" Kyle replied, using his height to peer over the crowd. He caught sight of a prominent notice and read it aloud to her.

The Triwizard Tournament

The representatives of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will arrive at 6:00 p.m. on October 30th. Afternoon classes will end half an hour early. Everyone is expected to gather in front of the castle to welcome our guests and then attend the welcome banquet.

"The Triwizard Tournament!" Kanna exclaimed. "I'd almost forgotten about it!"

"Kyle, Kanna!" Cedric called, making his way through the throng with a bright grin. "There's only a week left! I can hardly wait. I really hope I'll be chosen as a champion."

"Not a bad ambition," came Fred's voice from behind, as he and George materialized out of nowhere.

"But I'm afraid you'll be disappointed," Fred added with a mock-sympathetic shake of his finger.

"Oh, right. Because I'm obviously going to be the champion," George said, giving Cedric a cheeky grin. "You can cheer for me from the stands, yeah?"

"No way—it's my turn!" Fred objected, frowning.

"You've got a long way to go, Fred…"

"Oh, big talk coming from you!"

Before Kyle or Cedric could get a word in, the twins were deep into a playful, yet intense argument over who would be the best choice as Hogwarts champion, each claiming to be the superior candidate. Voices growing louder, they seemed on the verge of a duel, drawing stares from the surrounding students who watched with amused anticipation.

Kyle, sharing an exasperated look with Kanna, decided to make a quick escape. Silently, he turned and walked toward the Great Hall with her, pretending he didn't know the pair.