Though Hogwarts Castle is a labyrinth of passages, there are not many routes leading to the dungeons. Even if they get lost, young wizards can always ask the portraits on the walls, and when they are in a good mood, they are quite happy to help.
On their way to the dungeon, Harry and Ron happened to run into Iblis. The Potions class had been suspended due to Draco's sudden fainting, and they had spent the lesson doing nothing until dismissal, so naturally, their topic of discussion was the strange white-haired girl.
Ron pointed ahead to the girl talking to a portrait, but as they drew closer, he pulled Harry back by the sleeve. "Forget it, she's a freak. Let's not make fools of ourselves."
Because he could clearly see that the lady in the portrait was flushed with anger.
"What a thoroughly rude little wizard, actually questioning my identity as an earl's daughter!"
The girl beneath the portrait spoke in a casual tone, as if stating a matter of common knowledge. "Don't be so hot-tempered, will you? You claim you're the daughter of an earl from the early eighth century? Sure, sure, perhaps someone who looked like you really existed, but that wasn't *you*, you understand?"
The lady in the portrait, dressed in a lavish gown, lifted the hem of her skirt and pressed herself flat against the oil-painted canvas, looking as though she might charge right out of it the next second.
"A discourteous person like you belongs locked in the dungeons!"
The lady's fury only seemed to amuse Iblis further. Just as she looked ready to retort, a male voice came from behind her. "Iblis, isn't it? We should be having Potions together, and we're about to be late."
Harry stepped up behind her, seemingly with the deliberate intention of getting her away. Iblis shrugged, pulling a face at the furious woman in the portrait and refusing to respond no matter what harsh words the latter hurled at her.
"Harry, why are you bothering with her?" Ron looked back at the girl trailing behind them, lowering his voice as he spoke to Harry.
Harry awkwardly scratched his head. "Just figured why not?" Remembering the sight of the girl—so out of place with everyone else—being mocked by the crowd, Harry's eyes dimmed.
The girl simply followed behind them without any intention of striking up a conversation. Soon, the three of them arrived at the Potions classroom.
After finding a seat, Harry and Ron sat down, only to see the girl take the seat directly beside them, leaving them momentarily at a loss for words. When Ron kept gesturing to Harry with his eyes, Harry had no choice but to turn to the girl and venture cautiously,
"Um, Iblis, don't you need to go sit with your friends?"
"With your Slytherin friends," Ron chimed in from the side.
Iblis, who had been curiously studying the classroom, finally snapped back to attention, though her gaze remained fixed on the cupboards filled with herbs. "These herbs—where can I get my hands on them? The greenhouses clearly won't do."
"Huh? Oh, well, you can probably buy them in Diagon Alley; that's where I get all my school supplies."
"The Forbidden Forest has them too. I heard George and the others say the Forest is full of magical creatures and all sorts of rare herbs. It's just really dangerous, and there's no way they could get in."
That finally piqued Iblis's interest. She turned her head, right as she was about to ask for more details about the Forbidden Forest Ron had mentioned, the loud slam of a door being thrown shut cut off all the whispering among the young wizards.
Snape walked straight to the podium, his movements entirely swift and efficient. "There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class." He turned back, his fingers lightly touching, his expression stern as he swept his gaze across the young wizards, speaking at a rapid clip like someone finishing some tedious chore.
"I don't expect many of you to truly understand the subtle science and exact art that is Potions. However, for those select few, who possess the predisposition..."
Snape's gaze shifted to where the Slytherin students sat, his speech slowing down as he clasped his hands together with a touch of pride and arrogance.
"I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death."
Many of the young wizards wore looks of shock and awe at the miraculous art of Potions described by Snape, while Harry diligently took notes in his textbook with a quill. Feeling a tremor beside him, he looked up to see Iblis desperately trying to cover her mouth to keep from laughing out loud.
Snape's gaze, originally fixed on Harry, shifted to the girl beside him. His eyes grew significantly sharper, though he eventually looked back at Harry.
"Perhaps some people arrive at Hogwarts basking in their own overwhelming notoriety, feeling confident enough not to pay attention. Mr. Potter!"
Hearing his name, Harry immediately turned his head, dutifully putting down his quill to look at Snape.
"Mr. Potter... our new celebrity..." Contempt laced his tone.
"Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Hermione, sitting in front of Iblis, instantly shot her hand up. Harry awkwardly glanced at Ron, who was swallowing hard to his left, and then at Iblis, who was watching the spectacle with amusement. Finally, he pressed his lips together and shook his head.
"You don't know? Let's try again. Where would you look if I told you to find a bezoar?"
"I don't know, sir."
Snape showed no sign of stopping, continuing at a blistering pace, "What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
Hermione still had her hand raised, trying to draw Snape's attention; Harry still didn't know the answer.
"Clearly, fame isn't everything..."
Iblis, sitting beside Harry, frowned. She looked at Ron. "Why do they keep calling him a celebrity?"
Ron first glanced at Snape, who was still staring fixedly at Harry, then covered his mouth and lowered his voice as much as possible. "You don't even know that...? He's Harry Potter—the Boy Who Lived, the one who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."
Iblis blinked, pondering this for a moment. Then, she looked closely at Harry, and as if a thought had just occurred to her, turned her gaze to Snape, who had now walked right up to them with a face as dark as ink.
"Oh..." She couldn't help pointing a finger at Harry, and then at Snape. "I remember now. You're the one from that day..."
"Miss Grimm, it seems you've had something to say since a moment ago. Did I interrupt your display of utter foolishness?"
"No, you..."
"Stand up. Since you seem so thoroughly confident in your mastery of Potions, share everything you know so we can all see just how far your talents go."
Snape didn't give Iblis a single chance to draw breath. As soon as he finished speaking, he straightened up and spread his hands, signaling for the girl to talk.
Provoked in such a manner, Iblis arched an eyebrow, cleared her throat, and began:
"Naja potion, brewed primarily with serpent vine; just a single drop can erode multiple organs in the human body. Like a venomous snake coiling within you, crushing every organ one by one, the drinker loses all control of their body, wasting away to death in a painful, agonizing suffocation;
Mandragora draught, a mixture of Red Mandrake Wood branches and demon flowers. Highly toxic with extreme hallucinatory effects; if you wish to convulse to death inside an endless nightmare, this is the optimal choice. Of course, provided it doesn't affect you, it makes a rather decent sleeping potion;
Soul-binding draught, a combination of venomous scorpion tail sap, thorn pricks, blood-bead berries, and various other herbs—what a fascinating and wondrous concoction. It will permanently damage your pitiful soul, trapping your consciousness within your body with no escape. A fate of eternal pain and despair, far more wretched than any wandering ghost.
Potions—truly such interesting things. They can actually grant mortals a power comparable to gods. Though that nonsense about immortality has me laughing so hard I can't stop.
Were you just referring to the Elixir of Life, that laughable concoction born of alchemy? It's nothing more than a pathetic trick to keep dodging death. If that's the case... I really should go have a proper chat with him."
The more Iblis spoke, the more excited she became, the dim classroom suffused with a dark, despairing aura by her words.
"Silence."
Snape's doubled volume cut Iblis off directly. He had never encountered such an arrogant student in his Potions class.
"It seems Miss Grimm has been sneaking into the Restricted Section of the library. I am beyond curious—is showing off your supposed cleverness in front of everyone really that important to you?"
Snape flicked his hand, and the classroom door swung wide open. "It appears you have no need to remain here. Out. My classroom does not welcome you."
Iblis shrugged indifferently and let out a yawn. "I don't mind either way, I wanted to go back to sleep anyway..."
"Stand in the corridor until the end of the lesson, as punishment for your disrespect toward a professor and your contempt for the classroom. And don't forget your detention tonight!"
"...Oh."