~ Support & Read 20 Advanced Chapters Available now on my Patreon!
————
For the next two days, Hodge Blackthorn didn't cross paths with Snape or Quirrell, so no incidents occurred.
On the last day of the weekend, he was holed up in the library, busy sorting through everyone's performances in the Whimsy Club. It was a massive undertaking. Just figuring out their temperaments and classroom behaviors had taken him ages—nobody could guarantee those factors didn't play a role. For his first paper, Hodge wanted to make it rigorous.
Later that evening, he finally hammered out a rough framework for the paper. He reckoned that, besides tossing in some trendy magical theories as references, he'd need to carve out time to collect some "clean" experimental data. Once that was done, he could show it to Professor Flitwick for feedback.
Satisfied, he stretched lazily. Two rows of bookshelves away, he spotted a flash of red hair.
It was Ron Weasley, huddled with Harry and Hermione on a sofa by a small round table, whispering excitedly. A massive tome lay open before them, and their faces grew more animated, their voices louder by the second.
"Since he's already six hundred and sixty-five years old, that doesn't count as modern, does it?"
Hodge perked up his ears. That sounded like some serious gossip.
Before long, the librarian stormed over, looking furious.
Hermione leapt up, stammering apologies, but Madam Pince brandished her feather duster and shooed them off to reflect on their behavior. As the trio sheepishly packed up, Harry caught sight of Hodge through a gap in the shelves and walked over.
"Hey, Hodge," Harry said, a bit embarrassed, clearly aware Hodge had witnessed Madam Pince's wrath.
"Hey, Harry," Hodge replied. "I heard you lot got hit hard by Professor Snape."
"Oh, yesterday's mess," Harry said. "We were leaving the club, and Ron said something about him behind his back. Snape overheard, gave us a right earful of sarcasm, and I couldn't help arguing back. Then…" His expression darkened. "He docked us twenty points."
Even though it wasn't news to Hodge, he offered a sympathetic nod.
"By the way, Hodge," Harry said, shaking his head as if to shake off the memory, "there's something I wanted to talk to you about. You know Neville? Neville Longbottom." When Hodge nodded, he continued, "I was wondering if you could do me a favor and let him join the club. Even if it's just, y'know, to try it out once or twice, get a feel for it…"
Hodge pondered for a moment. "Does he—"
"He's on board," Harry cut in quickly. "We asked him already. Well, Hermione asked him."
Even though he shared a dorm with Neville, Harry couldn't bring himself to ask directly—it felt too much like saying Neville was dim, which, to be fair, wasn't far from the truth.
"No problem then," Hodge said cheerfully. "Just make sure Neville knows the club's temporary. I'm not planning to keep it going for long. But while it's around, I'm happy to help."
"That's perfect! Thanks so much!" Harry said, beaming.
The new week brought a fresh start for Hodge.
On Monday evening, Professor McGonagall announced in her office that Hodge's temporary tutoring sessions were over. She seemed to have high hopes for him, sharing ginger newt biscuits and pointing out an article in Transfiguration Today as an example. When he left, she even lent him the magazine.
Hodge seized the momentum. During Astronomy, while others were stargazing, he handed Professor Sinistra a stack of star charts and his paper. She looked utterly shocked and gave him five points on the spot—an unexpected bonus.
With that, aside from his half-abandoned Potions lessons, Hodge was finally free from extra tutoring and had time to himself. He poured all his energy into his paper, scouring the library's collection for useful quotes and excerpts.
He was in his element—this was a chance to explore his own talents. For instance, he'd nearly worn out the pages of Understanding Your Brain. As he mulled over the feasibility of one-on-one tutoring, the week's only Potions class rolled around.
Up at the front, Snape stood in his billowing black robes.
It was hard to read any emotion on his face, but Hodge soon realized Snape had moved past whatever had been troubling him—and his thirst for revenge was now terrifyingly intense.
Snape instructed the students to open their textbooks, write down the steps, select ingredients, and begin brewing. As the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs set up their cauldrons, Hodge was already down five points.
Then Snape began prowling the classroom. Each time he passed Hodge, he unleashed a barrage of merciless mockery, moving at a pace far quicker than usual—a clear sign he was thoroughly enjoying this vendetta.
Students from both houses shot Hodge sympathetic glances, unsure what he'd done to earn Snape's wrath. But Hodge had already decided to fight back.
So, when Snape swept by again, his footsteps practically radiating smug satisfaction, Hodge turned to the person next to him and said loudly, "Lily! Can you lend me your scales? Mine seem off." The footsteps behind him froze.
Lisa Turpin looked at him, puzzled, and slid her copper scales a few inches to the right.
"I'm Lisa, remember?"
"Sorry! My mistake, I was thinking of someone else," Hodge said, ignoring the palpable malice boring into the back of his head. Snape probably wouldn't curse him in front of everyone—probably, as long as he wasn't completely enraged.
By the time Hodge dripped a few drops of castor oil into his simmering cauldron, Snape had regained his composure. He returned to the front, his piercing gaze sweeping the room, flicking briefly but sharply at Hodge.
Hodge pretended to study the instructions on the board, silently mouthing: We're even.
Until the end of class, Snape didn't come near him again or offer any guidance. In fact, he seemed to treat the entire area around Hodge as invisible, even ignoring Lisa's quiet chatter. Hodge knew this was Snape's compromise—ignoring him in exchange for his silence.
"Any club activities this week?" Lisa asked, clumsily weighing bat livers.
"Just a small gathering, a few people," Hodge said. He'd paired up with Lisa for this very reason. "Hold on—stir the cauldron with your wand before adding the livers. When are you free?"
"Oh," Lisa said with a smile, "anytime works."
"Deal, then."
As Hodge watched the potion in his cauldron turn a clear sky blue, he mentally planned. Lisa, Neville, Terry—if all went as expected, their performances would be key to his paper and get special mention.
At noon, in the Great Hall.
The dining hall was the perfect place for sharing and spreading rumors. As Hodge dug into his meal, he overheard his name at the next table. Eavesdropping for a bit, he realized he'd apparently been added to Snape's list of victims.
Hodge rolled his eyes at the two Gryffindors gossiping animatedly. If such a list existed, their entire house would probably be on it.
He brushed off the Great Hall chatter, but the real fallout from Potions class didn't hit until the next day.
————
Supporting me on Patreon to gain early access to advanced chapters and enjoy expedited updates. Your support is greatly appreciated.
pat-reon .com/Dragonhair
(Just remove the hyphen - and space, to access Patreon normally.)