Chapter 17: Potions Class  

Since Hoffa's mind was still focused on how to obtain the Transfiguration book from the library, he didn't pay much attention to Miranda's request. 

He casually replied, "Sure, I'll go." 

Miranda continued in a low voice, "Parry was going to discuss with the head of house about letting her become the Seeker directly, but Goshawk thought first-years shouldn't participate in Quidditch, so she only became a substitute." 

Hoffa was surprised. Wasn't this similar to Harry's treatment? 

If Goshawk had been slightly more lenient, she would have become a first-year Seeker. 

He turned to look at the girl at the center of the crowd, thinking she seemed like a protagonist template. 

The Seeker was practically the king of the team. 

In his previous life, many famous characters excelled in Quidditch. 

James, Harry, Malfoy, Cedric, Cho, Chang, Krum, Ginny, and so on. 

Hoffa had initially thought she resembled Hermione, but now he realized he was mistaken. 

She was an all-around talent. 

If Hoffa thought compromising would work, he was sorely mistaken. 

What happened next completely shattered his worldview. 

On Friday, Hoffa had two classes: Defense Against the Dark Arts and Potions. 

In this era, Defense Against the Dark Arts hadn't been cursed yet. It was just an ordinary class. 

The teacher was a retired Auror named Alastia Merrythought, who was also the head of Gryffindor House. 

He was kind and humorous when teaching lower-year students, mostly telling stories about vampires, werewolves, dark goblins, and other creatures he had faced in his youth. 

If Hoffa remembered correctly, he was likely the last normal Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. 

After he retired seven years later, Tom Riddle wanted the position but was rejected by Dumbledoor and others. In response, Riddle cursed the position, ensuring no teacher could hold it for more than a year. 

After finishing Defense Against the Dark Arts in the morning, Hoffa had Potions in the afternoon. 

The Potions professor was Horace Slughorn, the head of Slytherin House. 

During lunch, Hoffa suddenly had an idea about the library signature. 

Compared to Snape in the future, Slughorn was much more approachable. He had even shared the secret of Horcruxes with Voldemort and his own shameful memories with Harry Potter. 

But the premise was that you had to earn his recognition. 

Yes, Slughorn only associated with students he deemed valuable or promising, considering them his most prized collections. 

After retiring, he came out of retirement just to teach Harry. 

In short, the man was not only superficial but also a bit of a snob. 

However, he wasn't a bad person. If Hoffa could earn his recognition, getting a signature for library access shouldn't be difficult. 

After all, the man had shared the secret of Horcruxes with Voldemort. A signature was nothing in comparison. 

Usually, Hoffa was casual about his appearance in class, but today, after lunch, he went straight to the bathroom to tidy up. He combed his black hair neatly back, making him look much more presentable. 

He wasn't bad-looking to begin with, and after some grooming, he looked quite handsome. 

First impressions mattered, and if he performed well, Hoffa believed he could catch Slughorn's attention. 

The Potions classroom was in the dungeons of Hogwarts. 

It was colder than the main castle, with glass jars lining the walls containing animal specimens and mutated organs. 

Hoffa found it quite interesting. The Slytherin common room was likely nearby. 

Upon entering, the dungeon was filled with a faint mist, carrying various strange odors and bubbling cauldrons. 

Hoffa looked around, recognizing all the potions being brewed. 

Thanks to his above-average mental abilities, he had memorized most of the potions books. 

If Slughorn asked questions, Hoffa believed he could stand out. 

The dungeon's tables were round, with cauldrons placed in the center. 

Slytherin students sat at one table, and Ravenclaw students at another. 

This meant Hoffa had to sit at the same table as Aglaia. 

And this time, unfortunately, the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables were very close. Tom Riddle, the future Dark Lord, sat directly across from Hoffa. 

The feeling of being surrounded by enemies made Hoffa uncomfortable, but he didn't show it. 

Shortly after sitting down, the dungeon door opened, and Slughorn's large belly entered before he did. 

He was a man with a silver-rimmed meerschaum pipe, much younger than he would be fifty years later. He wasn't bald but much fatter. 

He smiled, resembling a giant smoking walrus. 

Upon entering the dungeon, Slughorn first scanned the students, lingering slightly longer on Aglaia and Tom Riddle, as they were the most striking in appearance. 

Then, he picked up the attendance list and began calling names. 

Hoffa thought Slughorn's purpose for roll call was likely to see if any students came from famous families or were descendants of renowned wizards. 

So, when he called Tom Marvolo Riddle, he was slightly surprised and glanced at Tom in the crowd. 

The Marvolo from the Gaunt family was indeed a famous name. 

Hoffa felt the pressure. Voldemort was more handsome and carried the legacy of Salazar Slytherin. 

To gain Slughorn's favor, Hoffa would have to perform exceptionally well. Otherwise, he'd end up like Ron, whose name Slughorn couldn't even remember. 

Let alone getting a signature for the Restricted Section. 

After finishing roll call, Slughorn blew a smoke ring and cheerfully said, "Alright, everyone, please take out your scales, ingredient kits, and *Advanced Potion-Making* textbooks." 

The classroom filled with the rustling of students retrieving their supplies. 

Hoffa felt a bit disappointed. Was class starting already? 

"But before that," Slughorn continued, "I've prepared a few potions to give you a taste of the enchanting magic of potion-making." 

He pointed to a hissing, steaming cauldron on the Slytherin table and asked, "Can anyone tell me what this potion is?" 

This was it! 

Hoffa's hand shot up immediately. 

Slughorn noticed and nodded with a smile. 

"Very good, you there." 

Hoffa stood up and said, "It's a Warming Draught. The ingredients are daisy roots and honeywater in a one-to-nine ratio, plus seal fat and rat spleen. It's commonly used in Nordic and Siberian regions." 

"Absolutely correct," Slughorn said loudly. 

"What's your name?" 

(He clearly hadn't remembered Hoffa's name.) 

"Hoffa Bach, sir." 

"Bach, is it? Very well, five points to Ravenclaw." 

Slughorn nodded at Hoffa, signaling him to sit down. 

Hoffa felt pleased. It seemed he had made a good first impression on Slughorn. After class, he might be able to ask for a signature. 

Aglaia crossed her arms and snorted disdainfully. 

Tom Riddle leaned back in his chair, looking intrigued. 

Slughorn walked over to another cauldron filled with a gray liquid and asked, "Now, can anyone tell me what this potion is?" 

Without a doubt, Hoffa's hand shot up again. 

Slughorn looked surprised. "Bach, very well, you again." 

Hoffa stood up and said, "It's a Petrification Potion. Made from the eggs of a stone-hugging wren, a fire snake, rock moss, and a cave spider's eye. It's non-toxic and causes temporary petrification for about fifteen minutes." 

"Very accurate, very accurate! 

"Five more points to Ravenclaw." 

Slughorn blew a smoke ring, looking impressed. He turned to the class and said, "What are you all waiting for? Write this down!" 

The classroom filled with the sound of students scrambling to take notes. Even Tom Riddle picked up his quill. 

But one person remained motionless. 

Aglaia leaned back in her chair, rubbing her chin, eyeing Hoffa with suspicion. 

She began to question Hoffa's motives. 

Hoffa noticed Aglaia's ghostly gaze but ignored it. 

His entire focus was on Slughorn. 

As long as he made a good impression and got the signature, he could obtain the Transfiguration book from the Restricted Section. 

After the students finished taking notes, Slughorn walked over to a cauldron filled with a pale purple liquid. 

"Can anyone—" Before he could finish, a hand shot up. 

But this time, it wasn't Hoffa. 

It was Aglaia. 

Hoffa hadn't expected a wild card to appear. Neither had Slughorn. 

He paused, pipe in mouth. 

"Miss Delacour, do you… have a question?" 

Aglaia stood up directly. 

Pointing at the pale purple cauldron, she said, "It's a Fear Potion. Drinking it induces hallucinations. In large doses, it can cause psychological trauma. It's a century-old technique. 

(She shook her head disdainfully.) The ingredients are crow feathers, short deer antlers, and a bit of dark elf blood. 

"Normally, this potion is blood-red, but you added a bit of purple mountain flower to make it look more deceptive. 

(She clicked her tongue)—A crude trick, but enough to fool some people." 

She glanced at Hoffa, "I'm sure some ignorant people might mistake it for a healing potion and drink it without hesitation." 

Hoffa took a deep breath, biting the inside of his lower lip, and remained seated in silence. 

Slughorn looked utterly astonished, but it didn't end there. 

Aglaia pointed to another cauldron filled with a bright green liquid. 

"Luminescent Potion. Made from tree spirit sap, glow mushrooms, and ghost skin. It creates a glowing effect. 

"Ancient wizards discovered it accidentally during animal courtship rituals. 

"But in my opinion, if you added a bit of chameleon scales, the glow would be more vibrant and last longer…" 

(A minute later, the entire dungeon was silent as she continued to show off.) 

Hoffa's face turned ashen, while Slughorn looked utterly impressed. 

Aglaia: "…This one is a Lightness Potion, making your body as light as a feather. 

"You used eagle feathers, flying mushroom, and moon moth wings. 

"But in my opinion, this method is outdated. Just a drop of purified siren blood would achieve the same effect…" 

(A minute later) 

Aglaia: "…Wolfbane Potion. While effective against werewolves, if you added a bit of wailing bell, it could also affect those with malicious intentions among humans. You missed that, which is a shame." 

(A minute later, Slughorn was sweating profusely.) 

Aglaia: "…Of course, I'm not saying all the potions here are without merit. For example, I find your Sleeping Draught quite unique. Not only does it help wizards with depression sleep, but it also feels like a natural slumber." 

Aglaia praised the potion in front of her, and Slughorn looked relieved. 

But then she added, "However, due to its potent effects, this potion is classified as a controlled substance by the Ministry of Magic and shouldn't be in a lower-year classroom. 

"I assume you meant it as a bonus, but if someone with poor self-control were to…" 

Slughorn started sweating again. 

After what felt like an eternity, the silver-haired girl finally ended her lengthy speech. 

She crossed her arms, scanned the room, and smirked when her eyes landed on Hoffa. 

Finally, Slughorn pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his brow. 

Hoarsely, he asked, "You… you and… you and the head of the European Potioneers Association, Igor Moiseyev…" 

Aglaia sneered, "He's my incompetent great-grandfather." 

The entire class gasped. 

Hoffa slumped in his chair, exhaling deeply. 

He looked utterly defeated. 

"Indeed," Slughorn clapped, "Extraordinary talent, extraordinary talent! You're a natural-born potioneer! 

"Fifty points to Ravenclaw!" 

At this moment, he looked at Aglaia as if she were a priceless gem. 

As for who Hoffa was, he had already forgotten. 

The entire class clapped along with Slughorn, except for Hoffa, who closed his eyes. 

He was afraid he couldn't suppress the fury in his eyes. 

After class, Slughorn cheerfully called out to Aglaia. 

"By the way, Miss Delacour, I'm hosting a small dinner on the third of next month with a few senior students. Would you care to join?" 

Aglaia frowned, hesitating for a second. 

Then she noticed Hoffa's gloomy expression and immediately understood. 

She smiled sweetly at Slughorn and nodded. 

"It would be my honor, sir." 

Hoffa stormed out of the classroom, feeling as if he had been utterly defeated. 

Everything was ruined! 

Completely ruined! 

Now Slughorn only had eyes for Aglaia. How could Hoffa possibly get the signature?