Chapter 22: Potions Class
Professor Snape had the same ability as Professor McGonagall; a mere sweep of his gaze could silence young wizards.
But their styles were completely different.
Professor McGonagall was stern and awe-inspiring, stemming from her impartial treatment of everyone.
But Snape…
When he hid in the shadows, lightly pinched a piece of parchment, and emotionlessly uttered the name “Harry Potter,” his drawn-out intonation, the sound as if squeezed from between his teeth.
Made one inevitably think of a viper!
Snape took in the fearful expressions of the young wizards below, but he had no intention of hiding his feelings. His lifeless, dark eyes remained fixed on Harry:
“Yes, yes, The Boy Who Lived, the savior of the wizarding world, a famous figure!”
Anyone could hear the abundant sarcasm in his tone.
Harry’s face froze, feeling inexplicably wronged. Then he heard Professor Snape call out Vaughn’s name.
“Oh, Vaughn Weasley, the renowned Potions Prodigy, another famous figure.”
Vaughn stood up and bowed, “Thank you for the compliment, Professor.”
Harry suddenly envied his composure. Not everyone had the courage to ignore a viper spitting venom.
Snape snorted. To Harry’s relief, Snape finally stopped staring at him and quickly finished reading the list. He then moved through the crowd like a ghost:
“…Perhaps many of you do not believe Potions is a branch of magic. I do not expect the foolish substances within your thick skulls to immediately grasp the beauty of this subject, or how the magical potions brewed over a slow simmer can bewitch the mind and blur the will…”
His slow, deliberate words echoed in the silent basement.
Sometimes distant, sometimes near, at one moment it suddenly rang in Harry’s ears, startling him:
“Harry Potter! Famous figure, tell me, what do you get if I add powdered narcissus root to an infusion of wormwood?”
What?
Harry glanced at Ron beside him. Ron’s expression was as blank as his own.
Harry had, of course, read Potions books, but who would memorize everything not covered in the entire book?
Oh, except Hermione—her hand was already held high.
Vaughn was trying to press her back into her seat. Behind them, Malfoy and his two cronies were covering their mouths and snickering.
“I don’t know, Professor,” Harry said dryly.
Professor Snape, whose long face nearly reached his head, snorted derisively, “You don’t know… Hmph, it seems fame doesn’t mean everything, Mr. Potter. All right, let’s try again…”
Humiliated, Harry’s head buzzed. He impulsively blurted out, “Professor, why don’t you ask Hermione? She’ll definitely know, or ask Vaughn? He’s been brewing potions since he was eight and has improved many recipes. Ron showed me a newspaper that published his thesis, and I think his skill level is higher!”
After saying all this in one breath, Harry felt a sense of relief.
For days, Ron had been boasting about Vaughn’s prowess in Potions. Harry thought Snape might not be as good as Vaughn!
The basement fell into sudden silence due to Harry’s words. Everyone saw Snape’s face stiffen.
*Pfft…*
Someone laughed; it was Malfoy and his two followers.
The suicidal sound attracted Vaughn and Snape’s attention. Two identical, cold gazes fell upon them.
Malfoy quickly shut up.
Snape looked back at Vaughn, his icy expression giving no clue as to his thoughts, “It seems, Mr. Vaughn Weasley, you carry considerable weight with your classmates.”
Vaughn resumed his smiling demeanor, “Just some insignificant achievements, Professor.”
“In fact, my primary reason for coming to Hogwarts was to learn Potions from you. I also thank you; when some members of the Extraordinary Potioneers Association criticized my Potions ideas, it was you who published a thesis in my defense.”
The young wizards of Gryffindor and Slytherin felt they must be hallucinating from the recent dead silence—they actually saw Professor Snape seem to smile, but the classroom atmosphere undoubtedly relaxed considerably.
He didn’t ask any more questions, but before lecturing, Snape mockingly addressed Harry again: “Mr. Potter, I don’t need to ask Mr. Vaughn Weasley such a simple question. Do you know why? His fame was earned through his own efforts, while you—tsk tsk… Gryffindor loses 2 points!”
Harry felt as if his face were burning.
Vaughn also sighed inwardly, Harry and Snape’s emotional entanglement was a complete mess.
Harry was undoubtedly wronged; he had no idea why he annoyed Snape. As for Snape… one could only imagine how much pain he felt seeing the eyes of the person he loved most on the face of the person he hated most.
Outsiders had no room to interfere in such complex entanglements.
So everyone quickly realized… Snape had only temporarily let Harry off the hook.
Throughout the entire lecture, he kept circling Harry’s seat, asking questions from time to time.
This was disastrous for those sitting near Harry; not only could they not drift off, but several unlucky ones were also affected.
This was even more so during the practical part at the end of the class.
Snape seemed glued to Harry’s desk, finding fault with every action of him and those around him.
“Longbottom, what exactly is in that thick skull of yours? Flour and water? Does it turn to paste every time you move your head?”
“I’ve heard of your reputation, Finnigan. You can create explosions out of any accident, but in Potions class, if you dare to be careless for even a moment, I will make you understand what punishment is!”
Occasionally, he would walk over to Vaughn’s side, watch silently, and utter no cutting remarks.
This was not because he favored Slytherin, although that was a fact, but because Vaughn’s operations were flawless—even though his partner, Hermione, felt his method of handling medicinal herbs differed from the textbook.
The practical exercise was brewing a potion to treat scabies, a very basic potion.
Vaughn had experimented with it long ago, but he didn’t treat it casually just because it was basic. Instead, he focused intently on brewing while explaining to Hermione:
“…Potions don’t have strict medicinal control. It’s different from Muggle chemistry. Chemistry emphasizes precise control of ingredient quantities, while with Potions, rather than brewing a juice, we are cooking a cauldron of mysticism, brewing a spell!”
“You should have noticed, right? The recipes in the textbook are vague about ingredient quantities; it’s not a few grams or milliliters, but usually a few drops, a few leaves, or even a whole ingredient. But in parts that Muggles consider unimportant, like stirring, Potions strictly requires a certain number of times!”
“Hermione, you can view this entire process as a ritual, a ritual to invoke the mysterious and construct a spell.”
