After dinner, Wentworth made his way to Professor Snape's office alone. This time, even Cedric had chosen to steer clear and hadn't followed along.
When Wentworth knocked on the door, it was opened from within, revealing Snape's perpetually icy expression.
"Did you spend all evening fiddling with your blasted cauldron again? Is that why you're this late?" Snape snapped.
Without waiting for an explanation, he turned and walked back into his office.
Wentworth shrugged and followed him in.
Perhaps because it was situated underground, Snape's office felt oppressively dark. Shelves lined the walls, filled with large glass jars containing all manner of grotesque specimens floating in murky liquids.
Snape gestured toward a nearby table. Understanding the hint, Wentworth obediently walked over and sat down.
Snape then retrieved a cloth bag from another corner and tossed it to Wentworth.
Opening it, Wentworth found it was full of bean-like plants.
"I trust you won't tell me you don't recognize these," Snape said sharply. "But judging by your performance in class today, you should know what they are."
Wentworth nodded and replied, "Of course, Professor Snape. These are Twisty Beans. They can be used for—"
Snape cut him off before he could finish.
"I don't need you to tell me what they can do! I was brewing potions with them before you were even born!"
Snape's glare intensified as he continued, "Your task for tonight is to extract at least 10 grams of their juice. I sincerely hope you won't prove as incompetent as the idiots before you, who used up an entire bag and still failed to manage it! You do know how to extract the juice, don't you?"
Wentworth nodded again. Cedric had gone over this with him during their study session the night before. Twisty Beans had to be sliced with a pure silver knife. Every cut released a small amount of juice. Their juice was known for its ability to accelerate many potion reactions.
Seeing Wentworth nod, Snape tossed him a small silver knife and turned to his own work, saying nothing further.
Wentworth picked up the knife and eyed the pile of Twisty Beans on the table. At least Snape hadn't demanded he brew a potion tonight. If he had, Wentworth doubted he'd make it back to the dormitory before curfew.
But as he began working, Wentworth realized he had underestimated the task. The Twisty Beans lived up to their name. Their smooth, hard surfaces caused the knife to slip, sending the bean skittering across the table while nearly taking one of his fingers with it.
After expending considerable effort, Wentworth managed to process a single bean, collecting a few drops of juice. Reaching the goal of 10 grams seemed like a distant dream.
"Mr. Wentworth, do you intend to spend the night in my office?" Snape's voice suddenly came from behind him.
Wentworth flinched in surprise. Turning, he saw Snape standing there, a look of disdain on his face.
"I need to speak with Headmaster Dumbledore," Snape said curtly. "When I return, I expect you to have managed at least one gram of juice. Also, try using that brain of yours—it's barely more useful than a troll's!"
With that, Snape swept out of the office, leaving Wentworth alone in the dimly lit room.
Relieved at Snape's departure, Wentworth let out a deep sigh. Snape's mere presence was suffocating, even though Wentworth knew the man's personality well.
Looking around, Wentworth opened an old textbook whose cover bore the words The Half-Blood Prince. He quickly found a note scribbled next to a potion recipe involving Twisty Beans.
The note read:
Extracting juice from Twisty Beans is notoriously difficult, but using the flat of the blade to press down on the beans can yield over twice as much juice per bean. Due to the hardness of the beans, it's recommended to cast a strength-enhancing charm on your arm beforehand. The incantation is as follows…
Reading this, Wentworth couldn't help but marvel at Snape's genius. Perhaps Dumbledore's refusal to grant Snape the Defense Against the Dark Arts professorship was simply because Snape was an unparalleled talent in Potions.
Examining the dense notes scattered throughout the book, some including spells Snape had invented himself, Wentworth found his earlier resentment fading. This book was a treasure trove, worth any price of admission—including Snape's scorn.
Using the methods and charm detailed in the notes, Wentworth's efficiency soared. Before long, he had extracted the required 10 grams of juice and still had half the bag of beans left.
With the task complete, Wentworth began wandering around the office. The shelves of glass jars, with their macabre contents, made him wonder if anyone who worked in such an environment could truly be mentally stable.
"Mr. Wentworth, have you given up entirely?" Snape's voice rang out suddenly, making Wentworth jump. He turned to see Snape standing in the doorway, glaring at him with burning anger.
"Professor Snape, let me explain!" Wentworth began.
Snape waved him off impatiently. "I don't want to hear it. Students like you aren't welcome in my office. Get out!"
Instead of arguing, Wentworth silently returned to the table, picking up the vial of juice he had painstakingly extracted. Holding it up, he gave it a little shake in front of Snape.
The room fell into an awkward silence. For once, Snape seemed at a loss for words, though the tension wasn't on Wentworth's end. If not for decorum, Wentworth might have whistled in triumph.
"So, you think this is impressive?" Snape said finally, his tone dismissive. "Anyone with half a brain could extract that much from a whole bag of beans. You were merely… efficient."
Still, Wentworth thought he caught the faintest flicker of grudging approval in Snape's expression before the professor turned away.
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