Hogwarts: Subjects

Potions, though — Potions is a cold dungeon and a hotter temper. Snape’s voice curls like steam: “There will be no foolish wand-waving.” The cauldron bubbles with asphodel and wormwood. A Gryffindor’s brew turns violet, then orange, then wrong. “Zero,” Snape says, and the word drips slower than Draught of Living Death.

History of Magic, Binns drones on about goblin rebellions. No one listens. But hidden under the desk, a Slytherin passes notes, a Gryffindor sketches a Firebolt, a Ravenclaw reads ahead. The ghost floats through the blackboard, indifferent. hogwarts subjects

At the end of the day, in the Great Hall, candles float above house tables. A first-grader mends her quill with a shaky Reparo . A seventh-year reviews Patronus theory. Somewhere, a cauldron still smokes. Somewhere, a spell still hangs in the air, unfinished. Potions, though — Potions is a cold dungeon

Herbology in Greenhouse Three steams with dragon dung and danger. The Venomous Tentacula lunges at Neville; Sprout just laughs, patting its leaves. Mandrakes shriek in their pots — baby ones, mewling. Students stuff wax in their ears, but the vibration still rattles their ribs. “Zero,” Snape says, and the word drips slower

Care of Magical Creatures happens in the Forbidden Forest’s shadow. Hagrid beams as a hippogriff bows to a trembling student. “See? He likes yeh.” The bow is slow, formal, terrifying. Then the leap — wind screaming past — and for one breath, you fly without a broom.

Astronomy at midnight: cold stone, colder wind. The telescope shows Jupiter’s moons like scattered seeds. Sinistra points her wand at Orion’s belt. “Remember,” she says, “the stars saw magic before we named it.”

Muggle Studies — a quiet room with photographs that don’t move. “They use electricity,” the professor says. “And rubber ducks.” The Slytherins smirk. The Muggle-born smile softly. Magic isn’t the only wonder, after all.