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In the days that followed, Harry diligently prepared food for Ash, delivering it to the Enchanted Haven Briefcase. His interactions with the creature were both a learning experience and a testament to his growing responsibility as a caretaker of magical beings. However, Harry's attention soon shifted back to the mystery surrounding the forbidden third-floor corridor. After deliberately testing the compelling zone during the Easter Egg Hunt and observing its lack of effect on other students, Harry realized its influence was unique to him alone.
"Let's list all the clues we have," Harry proposed, eager to piece together the puzzle.
Nigel commenced, his tone carrying a mix of amusement and seriousness, "We have a mysterious room students were warned not to approach if they don't wish for a painful death. Check. It's hiding an item related to Nicholas Flamel, most likely the Philosopher's Stone. Check. Professor Quirrell is acting peculiar, and he probably has some connection to Voldemort. The wraith you saw in the forest also suggests Voldemort's presence in Hogwarts. Check. With all these clues, there are two possibilities. Either Voldemort cast the compelling zone to target you and Dumbledore is oblivious to what's occurring under his roof, or it was Dumbledore who set the zone, hoping to mold you into a hero. Without entering, there is no way of knowing."
Harry nodded, digesting the information. "And why would I even try to enter?"
Nigel sighed, the seriousness in his voice underscoring the gravity of the situation, "If the room truly houses the Stone, and Voldemort obtains it, he could become immortal or significantly more powerful or both. Neither outcome bodes well for you."
Harry acknowledged the logic. "Dumbledore is still here, so he won't allow Voldemort to proceed unchecked. Let's wait and observe."
Their discussion, while speculative, highlighted the intricate web of mysteries and dangers that lay within Hogwarts. Harry's cautious approach underscored the complexity of the situation and the need for patience and strategic thinking.
Harry, focusing on the approaching exams, dedicated himself to his studies while keeping a watchful eye on the mysterious third-floor corridor. The allure of uncovering its secrets was strong, yet Harry understood the potential dangers that lay within. He feared the room's capability to inflict a painful death, as warned by the Hogwarts staff. Consequently, Harry chose not to tempt fate by attempting to view the room through the Enchanted Mirror for Distant Viewing by entering and showing it to the artifact. Instead, he concentrated on excelling academically, aiming to become the top student of his year.
As Harry made his way towards the dungeons for the first exam of the year, Potions, he couldn't help but ponder his chances of becoming the next Serpent of the Crown. "What are my chances of being the Serpent of the Crown next year, Nigel?" he mused aloud, curious about the mysterious room's criteria for selecting its successor.
Nigel, quick to offer his perspective, replied, "Well, Master Harry, it's a bit of a conundrum. All we know is that the room chooses its next successor, but the exact criteria remain a mystery."
Harry hummed thoughtfully, piecing together what he knew. "Fame, power, and influence seem like obvious filters. Selena wasn't as famous, though she was top of her class and powerful. She mentioned that she was chosen in her fifth year, which suggests she might have been the strongest in Slytherin at the time. Or maybe it's about being comparatively the strongest, as in the most talented across all years, when adjusted for age. If it's the former, my chances might indeed be slim. I might lead my year, but overtaking fifth years, not to mention sixth years, is a tall order."
He then considered, "If we don't count the seventh years who'll be graduating soon, perhaps my shot at being the most talented isn't entirely out of the question." Harry mused, thinking in his mind out loud, about his potential to rise through the ranks at Hogwarts.
Nigel, truly displeased by Harry's attempt at humility, said, "Ah, don't sell yourself short, Master Harry. After all, you're practically a prodigy by any standard. At this rate, you might just invent a spell to do your homework for you."
Harry laughed, appreciating Nigel's vote of confidence. "Well, that would certainly help with my studies. But seriously, being the Serpent of the Crown would be a big deal. It means I'd have to be on top of my game, especially with some of the older students likely eyeing the title. If only Selena wasn't so intimidatingly competent. She's not just the Serpent of the Crown; she's a spell crafter too. I mean, how do you even prepare against someone who might whip out a spell you've never seen before?"
Nigel responded with his typical dryness, "You can't." Harry rolled his eyes, half in frustration, half in jest, "Well, I guess I'm at a bit of a disadvantage then, aren't I? My list of spells might not rival hers, but there's always room for growth. That's what education's for, right?"
As Harry approached the dungeon for the Potions exam, a wave of nervous anticipation hit him, mirrored in the anxious expressions of his classmates. Finding a spot between Daphne and Tracey, Harry prepared for the exam, his mind racing with last-minute revisions.
Just then, Professor Snape entered the room, his presence commanding immediate silence. His gaze swept across the students before landing on Harry. "Mr. Potter, stand up," he commanded. Confused, Harry rose to his feet, wondering if he had inadvertently broken some rule. "You won't be taking the exam," Snape continued, a smirk playing on his lips.
Harry raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "I won't?" The idea of not taking the exam didn't unsettle him; if anything, it piqued his curiosity about what Snape had planned.
As Snape's smirk grew, he added, "I've seen enough of your capabilities to be confident you'd surpass the requirements of this exam. Instead, you will assist me in overseeing the potions to prevent any mishaps. Experience has taught me that exams tend to... induce clumsiness." He spat out the last word with a distaste that suggested lack of attention in potion-making were among the greatest of sins.
With a confident nod, Harry took his place behind Snape, observing the room filled with his classmates' working stations.
Nigel, seizing the moment for a quip, whispered in Harry's mind, "Oh, to be Snape's assistant—surely a dream come true. Remember, Master Harry, with great power comes the great need of attention to not letting anyone blow up their cauldron."
Harry, fighting back a grin at Nigel's remark, focused on the task at hand. Watching his classmates gazing at Snape, who was about to explain the exam, he felt a mix of relief and anticipation. Being chosen to assist rather than participate offered him a unique perspective, and Harry was curious to see how his peers would manage the challenge.
"As you are aware," Snape began, his voice cutting through the tense silence of the dungeon, "today's practical examination will involve the creation of a potion of your choice, limited to the curriculum of the first year. You will be judged on accuracy, technique, and the final result. Mr. Potter here will be assisting me, ensuring that none of you... inadvertently endanger yourselves or others."
The students exchanged nervous looks, the weight of Snape's expectations heavy in the air. Harry, meanwhile, surveyed the room, his eyes landing on Daphne, Tracey, Neville, Susan, Hannah, Hermione and others. They all looked determined, their focus sharp as they prepared their ingredients.
Nigel chimed in, "Ah, the tension is palpable. Do try not to intimidate them too much with your supervisory glare, Master Harry."
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