Another day began.
After completing a White-tier Quest, Witt stared helplessly at the three silver Sickles in his hand.
White-tier Quests mostly rewarded him with coins, sweets, and other cheap odds and ends.
For Witt, they were better than nothing.
For now, though, it was time for class.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ In Potions, Snape swept into the classroom with his robes billowing behind him, despite there being no wind whatsoever indoors.
With every step he took, one of the brightly lit windows slammed shut.
Before long, the once bright classroom had been plunged into gloom.
Snape gracefully drew his cloak around himself and folded his arms.
The taut black fabric enveloped his entire body.
He looked exactly like an enormous bat.
With an entrance like that, no one would believe you if you tried to claim he wasn’t the villain.
“Put your wands away.
You will not need to wave them about like fools or shout incantations in my classroom.” “Potion-making is a precise and elegant discipline.
I do not expect most of you to appreciate the beauty of a cauldron simmering over a low flame, smoke curling gently from its surface.” “But for those of you who are truly prepared to delve into the subject, I can teach you how to acquire fame and fortune, how to influence the minds of others…” “Perhaps even how to escape death itself.” Snape’s voice was soft, his cadence rising and falling with an almost hypnotic quality.
Everyone listened attentively.
Everyone except Harry, who was diligently taking notes.
Snape’s gaze shifted towards him.
At once, he remembered the sight of Harry chatting happily with Lily yesterday.
His tone immediately changed.
“Of course, some among you arrived at Hogwarts already possessing certain… extraordinary abilities.” “And apparently enough confidence to believe that listening to my lessons is unnecessary.” Snape’s gaze turned frigid.
His voice was icy.
The word disgust might as well have been written across his face.
Hermione hurriedly nudged Harry.
Only then did Harry realise something was wrong.
He put down his quill and focused on Snape.
“Mr Potter.” Snape looked down at him.
“Our newest celebrity.” “Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?” Under Snape’s oppressive stare, Harry answered quietly, “I don’t know.” Beside him, Hermione’s hand shot high into the air.
Snape obviously had no intention of acknowledging her.
“You don’t know.
Very well.
Something else.” “Mr Potter, if I required a bezoar, where would I find one?” By now, Harry had realised that Snape was deliberately making things difficult for him.
“I don’t know, sir,” he replied quietly.
Hermione immediately raised her hand again.
Beside Hermione, Lily raised hers as well.
The classroom fell silent.
Snape froze.
A long while passed before he finally managed to compose himself.
“Miss Evans.” “Perhaps you would care to tell Mr Potter the answers.” Snape could ignore Hermione.
He could not ignore Lily.
Lily stood and quickly replied, “Powdered asphodel added to an infusion of wormwood produces the Draught of Living Death, which places the drinker into an extremely deep sleep.” “A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat.
It’s a very powerful antidote to many poisons.” “Very good.” Snape actually applauded softly.
“Three points to Gryffindor.” Then he turned away.
His expression instantly darkened again.
“Why are you not writing this down?” “Mr Potter, it appears fame alone is insufficient.” Snape stared deeply into Harry’s eyes, profound disappointment welling inside him.
This child hadn’t inherited even a fraction of Lily’s good qualities.
“Lily.” Snape turned around again.
The smile immediately returned to his face.
He handed her a notebook.
“If you have an interest in pursuing Potions beyond the standard curriculum, you may use this for further study after class.
If there is anything you do not understand, you may come and ask me at any time.” “Thank you, Professor.” Lily obediently accepted the notebook and sat back down.
Witt watched the entire farce from the side with only one thought in his mind.
Professor Snape’s ability to change faces that quickly… Truly beyond comparison.
He could only admit defeat.
Come to think of it, whenever these professors took a liking to a student, did they all enjoy handing out notebooks?
Professor Quirrell had done it.
Now Professor Snape had done it too.
The first Potions lesson didn’t cover anything particularly profound.
Snape merely explained some precautions to take while brewing potions and demonstrated a few of the most basic techniques.
After class, Lily quietly asked, “Harry, did you do something to offend Professor Snape?” From Lily’s perspective, Snape was unquestionably a good man.
An exceptionally good man, in fact.
He might look stern, but he was extremely pleasant when dealing with people.
He spoke gently and was extraordinarily patient.
Clearly, he was a wonderful professor.
Harry thought carefully for a moment before shaking his head.
“I don’t know.” Since arriving at Hogwarts, the only time Harry had even seen Snape before this class had been during the Sorting Ceremony.
They had never so much as spoken.
How could he possibly have offended him?
Harry was still puzzling over the matter when Snape approached.
He completely ignored Harry and walked straight up to Witt.
His voice was flat and utterly devoid of emotion.
“Come to my office.” “All right.” Witt agreed.
After saying goodbye to Lily, he followed Snape to his office.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ “You met Gryffindor.” Snape’s eyes bore into Witt.
As a double agent, Snape wasn’t merely highly skilled at Legilimency.
He was also a master at controlling his own expressions.
When he spoke, his face almost never revealed anything unnecessary.
At the same time, he could easily detect even the smallest changes in someone else’s expression.
None of the Death Eaters who followed Voldemort were simple minded fools.
The fact that Snape had managed to deceive them for so long was proof enough of his skill.
As for what Dumbledore had told him yesterday?
Snape believed perhaps half of it.
That scheming old codger Dumbledore was far too slippery to trust completely.
So Snape wanted to confirm the matter with Witt personally.
However, before he could even attempt Legilimency, Witt’s helmet blocked him.
Witt’s expression showed no sign of deception either.
After all, he was an honest child.
“Yeah.
I didn’t just meet Gryffindor—I even fought him.” Witt sighed regretfully.
“Shame I couldn’t beat him.” Judging purely from his expression, anyone might have assumed he had only narrowly lost.
“Dumbledore asked me to give you these.” Snape took out a bottle of potion and a book.
“Professor Dumbledore?” Witt accepted them in confusion.
The book was Gryffindor’s Travels, the very book Dumbledore had borrowed from him a few days earlier.
The potion, however, was completely unfamiliar.
“What’s this?” Witt picked up the bottle and examined it.
“You can find out for yourself.” Snape pointed towards the book in Witt’s hands.
Witt opened Gryffindor’s Travels and began carefully leafing through it.
After quite some time, his shoulders drooped.
He looked strangely dejected.
“Professor Snape…” “Is the adult world always this complicated?” Snape replied coldly, “How could an idiot possibly become one of the founders of Hogwarts?” As far as Snape was concerned, Witt was asking an utterly pointless question.
Travelling more than a thousand years through time was already absurd beyond belief.
The fact that Gryffindor had been willing to believe Witt at all was remarkable.
Of course he would leave himself some insurance.
That was perfectly normal.
Witt should consider himself lucky that the person he had encountered was Gryffindor.
Had it been Slytherin instead… Snape suspected Witt’s brain would already be sitting in a jar of potion.
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