The brief flicker of self-doubt in Snape's heart vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Slytherin House was not known for its high moral standards; it prided itself on cunning, ambition, and the belief that the ends justified the means. Snape reminded himself of this as he strode through the castle corridors, his black robes billowing behind him.
"Everything I do is for Slytherin," he muttered under his breath. "For the House Cup. For victory. Besides, what kind of fool would stay up all night just to be a Potions assistant, cleaning and squeezing slime from Flobberworms?"
He shook his head, imagining the ridiculousness of it. "There's a whole basket of them. It would take hours of concentrated effort to process them all. And after so much contact with Flobberworm mucus, even with gloves, your hands would start to itch unbearably. No one would put up with that."
Snape quickened his pace, leaving the dungeons behind. He was certain Char would soon regret his decision.
Meanwhile, back in the Potions classroom, Char let out a quiet sigh of relief as Snape's footsteps faded away. He clutched the key tightly, feeling a surge of determination. This was his chance—his opportunity to search for the Half-Blood Prince's textbook, Advanced Potion-Making, without raising suspicion.
"Let's start with the lockers in this classroom," Char murmured to himself.
He made his way to the row of lockers at the back of the room. The key Snape had given him fit perfectly—no surprise, since the classroom and locker keys were often the same for convenience. Char turned the key, and with a satisfying click, the locker door swung open.
The next moment, Char's eyes widened as a small avalanche of old textbooks, crucibles, gloves, and other forgotten items tumbled out, forming a messy heap on the floor. Even with the Traceless Extension Charm, the lockers were stuffed to bursting, and the moment the door opened, everything inside spilled out.
Char took a step back, shaking his head. "Well, I guess I'd better start sorting through this."
He knelt beside the pile and began to sift through the debris, picking up each textbook and examining it carefully. "Elementary Potion-Making… nope, not it. One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi—an edition from a hundred years ago? Interesting, but not what I'm looking for. Wait, what's this? The Succubus Queen and the Dragon Maid? Really? Who left this in here?"
Char couldn't help but chuckle. The lockers were a treasure trove of oddities, each item a testament to the eccentricities of Hogwarts students past and present. He spent the next hour meticulously searching through the pile, but by the time he reached the bottom, he still hadn't found the Half-Blood Prince's book.
"It's not in this locker," Char said, straightening up and stretching his stiff muscles. He looked at the row of lockers still waiting to be searched. "And there are seven or eight more Potions classrooms just like this one."
He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the task ahead. Without Harry Potter's protagonist luck, finding the book would be a real challenge. But Char wasn't one to give up easily.
"The worst-case scenario is that I have to search every locker in every classroom," he told himself. "If I'm willing to put in the time, I'll find it eventually. There's no rush."
With that thought, Char turned his attention to the basket of Flobberworms Snape had left for him. If he was going to spend a lot of time in the Potions classroom, he might as well get started on the task at hand.
He picked up a Flobberworm, its plump, furry body wriggling gently in his palm. With a careful squeeze, a stream of thick, clear mucus oozed out and dripped into the collection jar. The sensation was sticky and a bit prickly, but Char was unfazed. He'd spent years working with plants and insects in his previous life as an agricultural researcher. Compared to some of the things he'd handled—like compost and manure—Flobberworms were practically cute.
"Who would be afraid of insects if you've studied agronomy?" Char mused, smiling to himself. "And this is nothing compared to some of the things I've had to do in the fields."
As he worked, Char noticed something interesting. Some of the mucus he collected was clearer and more viscous than the rest. Snape had said that even Flobberworm mucus had to meet high standards—apparently, there was an art to squeezing it properly.
Char's curiosity was piqued. "What makes the difference?" he wondered aloud. He thought back to his work with magical plants, how sensing their magical energy could help him prune or harvest them more effectively. "Could the same principle apply here?"
He picked up another Flobberworm and focused, trying to sense the flow of magic within it. At first, it was difficult—the worm's magic was faint and subtle, but as he concentrated, he began to feel a gentle pulse of energy beneath its furry skin. He squeezed gently, and to his delight, the mucus that emerged was even clearer and thicker than before.
Char's eyes lit up. "It works! If I sense the magic and squeeze at the right moment, the quality is much better."
He checked his system panel and saw that the silver luster on his Magic Perception Enhancement ability was a little brighter than before. The ability, which had been stuck between bronze and silver, was inching closer to the next level.
"Squeezing Flobberworms can help train my magical perception?" Char said, amazed. He looked at the basket of worms with new appreciation. What had seemed like a tedious chore had turned into an unexpected opportunity for growth.
With renewed enthusiasm, Char set to work, carefully squeezing each Flobberworm and focusing on the flow of magic within them. The hours passed quietly, the only sounds the occasional rustle of a worm and the steady drip of mucus into the jar. Outside, the castle grew dark, and the torches in the dungeon flickered, casting long shadows on the stone walls.
Char worked steadily, his hands moving with practiced ease. He found himself falling into a rhythm, his mind calm and focused. The repetitive motion was almost meditative, and he felt a sense of peace settle over him.
By the time he finished the first batch, it was late at night. The basket was still half full, but Char wasn't worried. He had all night, and with each worm he squeezed, his magical perception grew a little stronger. The silver luster on his system panel continued to spread, slowly but surely.
As he worked, Char's thoughts wandered. He imagined the Half-Blood Prince's book, hidden somewhere among the clutter of the Potions classrooms. He thought about the Shadowless Sharpness spell, and how it might help him in the battles to come. But most of all, he thought about how every task, no matter how small or strange, could be an opportunity to learn and grow.
The night stretched on, and Char kept working, his determination unwavering. He knew that with patience and persistence, he would find the book—and with it, the power he needed to face the challenges ahead.
And so, in the quiet of the dungeon, with only the Flobberworms and the flickering torchlight for company, Char continued his search—for the book, for the spell, and for the strength to protect those he cared about.