Early the next morning, Jon Hart opened his eyes.
He was lying in the Slytherin boys' dormitory... Through the glassy ceiling above, he could see a few carp gliding beneath the Black Lake, the waterweed swaying lazily in the current.
Jon rubbed his eyes and climbed out of bed. The other three boys in the dorm were still sound asleep, their soft snores filling the room.
He dressed quietly, careful not to wake them, and slipped out of the room.
The Slytherin common room was still quiet. Only two or three figures huddled by the fireplace, seemingly in quiet conversation.
Jon stepped through the stone doorway into the dim dungeon corridor.
He hadn't gone far when he spotted Cedric Diggory leading the Hufflepuff Quidditch team past. Zacharias Smith brought up the rear, and from the look of his gear, he seemed to have switched positions to Chaser. Jon's first instinct was to greet them—but then he remembered his current identity as a Slytherin exchange student. Awkward but trying to appear natural, he simply lifted a hand and scratched his head instead.
...
In the Great Hall, Jon ate breakfast while casually observing those around him.
Just as he was finishing, Prefect Pansy Parkinson approached, holding a timetable.
"This is your schedule for the term, Patrick," Miss Parkinson said crisply. "You must also choose at least two electives from Divination, Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Ancient Runes, and Muggle Studies."
Her expression turned sour at the mention of Muggle Studies.
Jon thought for a moment, then chose Divination, Care of Magical Creatures, and Ancient Runes—the same three as before.
Pansy took out a quill, jotted down the additions, and handed him the updated schedule.
"That should be everything," she said.
"Thanks." Jon nodded, took the parchment, and ran his finger down Monday's column.
The morning held two outdoor classes: Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures. Herbology was shared with Ravenclaw, and Care of Magical Creatures with Gryffindor.
Herbology didn't interest him much, but he was genuinely curious about Care of Magical Creatures. What would Umbridge possibly teach them?
In the afternoon, he had two Charms periods with Hufflepuff.
...
Just then, a fluttering sound filled the air as hundreds of owls swooped in through the open windows, delivering the morning mail.
Among the sea of brown and gray feathers, one white owl stood out.
Many students looked up instinctively, reaching out to take their letters.
Draco Malfoy, for example, appeared to have received another package of sweets and cakes from home, which he was now proudly showing off to his friends.
Meanwhile, Harry Potter seemed to have gotten a secret letter of his own; he was bent over the table, whispering with Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger.
The snowy owl glided down to the Slytherin table, dropped a note in front of Jon, and flew off.
Jon blinked in surprise. Until that moment, he hadn't even noticed the owl—he hadn't expected anyone to write to him at all.
He stared at the note in astonishment and quickly stood up.
At the entrance to the Great Hall, Astoria Greengrass had just come in.
She glanced at Jon briefly, her expression unreadable, then brushed past him without a word.
...
Later that morning, Jon joined the Slytherin and Ravenclaw students as they crossed the damp lawn toward Greenhouse Three.
He still held the note tightly in his hand, his mind preoccupied.
Astoria Greengrass walked a short distance ahead to his right, surrounded by several Slytherin girls—Selwyn, Yaxley, and Kent among them—making it difficult for Jon to approach her.
Beside him, Sean Avery was enthusiastically explaining bits of Hogwarts trivia. Jon nodded from time to time, pretending to listen.
Professor Pomona Sprout soon arrived, bringing with her something that looked particularly unpleasant.
They barely resembled plants at all—more like large, black, slimy slugs, oozing straight up from the soil. Each one writhed faintly, covered in shiny, swollen lumps that seemed full of liquid.
"Does anyone know what these are?" Professor Sprout asked.
"Bubotubers," Jon replied almost automatically.
"Correct!" Professor Sprout turned to him with a smile. "You must be the exchange student, Mr. Patrick, right?"
"Uh... yes," Jon nodded.
"Then perhaps you can tell us what they're used for?" she continued.
"The pus of a Bubotuber is quite valuable," Jon explained. "If used properly, it has strong detoxifying effects and can even treat stubborn acne."
"Excellent answer!" Professor Sprout said approvingly, giving him a thumbs-up. "Five points to Slytherin."
"Nice one, Patrick!" Avery whispered in admiration.
Professor Sprout then addressed the class. "Today's task is to extract and collect the pus by hand—"
"What?" Ravenclaw's Teresa Baker exclaimed in disgust.
"That's right, Teresa—pus," said Sprout matter-of-factly. "You'll collect it into these bottles. Remember to wear your dragon-hide gloves—undiluted Bubotuber pus can cause severe irritation to the skin."
"In the Middle Ages, Muggles who stumbled upon Bubotubers used their pus to coat arrowheads, making crude poisons," she added.
...
The extraction process was disgusting yet oddly satisfying. Each swollen lump burst with a thick spurt of yellow-green fluid that smelled sharply of petrol.
Following Sprout's instructions, they collected the liquid into small bottles.
Professor Sprout surveyed the results with clear satisfaction.
"I'm sure Madam Pomfrey will be thrilled to have these," she said with a smile.
A deep chime echoed from the castle, signaling the end of class. Students began packing up and heading off.
The Ravenclaws turned toward the castle for Transfiguration, while the Slytherins went the other way—down the sloping lawn toward Hagrid's hut at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.