“There will be no foolish wand-waving in my class…”
…
“…brew glory…”
…
“…if anyone feels they are so famous they don’t need to attend class…”
Hermione nudged Harry’s elbow while he was taking notes.
After two days of tutoring, Harry had realized he didn’t actually dislike Potions; in fact, he was finding rare enjoyment in studying it.
And although Professor Snape had a terrible reputation among Gryffindors, since Raven said he was reasonably competent at teaching, Harry figured that as long as he worked hard, he wouldn’t be targeted too badly.
So he still treated him like any ordinary professor.
In Harry’s eyes, Snape’s intimidating opening speech actually sounded pretty cool, so he jotted it down in his notes.
He certainly hadn’t expected the professor to immediately target him!
Harry felt a sinking sensation.
Was this man really a competent faculty member?
“Potter! Our new… Gryffindor celebrity. What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”
Professor Snape glared intently into Harry’s eyes, as if trying to peer straight into his thoughts.
Harry was nervous for only a second before recovering his composure.
Drawing on the knowledge he had crammed over the past two days, he answered, “The Draught of Living Death, sir. It’s a sleeping potion so powerful it induces a deathlike sleep.”
Seeing Harry answer the question correctly, Professor Snape wasn’t sure whether he should be pleased or annoyed.
Perhaps only Raven noticed the subtle twitch at the corner of Snape’s lips.
“Very well. Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?”
Beside him, Hermione raised her hand high into the air.
She never let a chance to earn house points pass her by.
To her, anything written in the textbook was free points, as she had memorized the entire book already.
Yet Snape kept his glare locked onto Harry, ignoring everyone else in the room.
Seeing that Snape had no intention of addressing Hermione, Harry—ever the good friend—decided to counter with a question of his own.
“Perhaps Hermione knows the answer?”
In that split second, Snape seemed to see the shadow of an old enemy in Harry, and his face turned ghastly pale with fury.
Now it was obvious: Snape hadn’t truly been angry before, but he certainly was now.
Like a cobra spitting venom, Snape fixed Harry in his sights and hissed out each word.
Unable to stomach the provocation, Harry answered immediately.
“A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat, and it will save you from most poisons. Sir.”
He emphasized the last word, mimicking Snape’s deliberate tone.
“What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?” Snape pressed on without missing a beat.
Harry refused to back down.
“There is no difference. They are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite.”
With three consecutive questions failing to stump Harry, Snape didn’t resort to petty harassment either.
“Well? Why aren’t you all writing this down? Do you all possess talent to squander like our celebrity here?”
Snape walked back to the teacher’s desk and picked up a quill.
Then he added to the class, “And for Potter’s inattentiveness during class, three points will be taken from Gryffindor.”
Hermione desperately wanted to speak up in Harry’s defense.
Sitting right next to him, she knew exactly what he had been writing.
And of course, Raven knew too.
So Raven made his move.
[Wingardium Leviosa]
A wandless, silent Levitation Charm.
Raven floated Harry’s Potions notebook—filled with extensive notes over the last two days—straight onto Snape’s desk.
“I would hope that Mr. Weasley brought his brain to my classroom. I believe I stated upon entering that there will be no wand-waving in my class.”
Raven stood up and patted his robes, revealing his wand still safely tucked in his belt.
“So, you wish to show off your little wandless magic tricks in my class?” Snape’s face hardened into stone.
“Ten points from Hufflepuff. And due to Mr. Weasley’s failure to wear the proper school uniform… perhaps I should assist you by submitting a transfer request to Professors Sprout and Minerva.”
Raven replied with smooth, unshakeable confidence.
“Since when did the Potions Master take on the duties of the caretaker? Furthermore, I object to your penalty, as my attire does not violate school regulations.”
When Raven uttered the word “objection,” the gold-embroidered lion pattern on his crimson robe flickered with sudden light.
Snape was momentarily startled by the anomaly, but nothing further happened.
Just as he was about to unleash a fresh barrage of venom onto Raven, an origami paper crane flew through the classroom doorway and landed softly on Snape’s lesson plan.
Imprinted on the crane’s wings was a magical crest of Hogwarts.
As a professor and Head of House, Snape recognized the mark immediately—it came from the Headmaster’s office, signifying an official Hogwarts document whose authority was recognized by the school itself.
[Professor Severus Snape,]
[You have recently penalized Raven Nicholas Weasley, Heir of Gryffindor, deducting ten points from Hufflepuff House on the grounds of non-regulation attire.]
[The Heir of Gryffindor has raised a formal objection. The school administration has verified the matter as follows:] You are reading on g.com, the official source.
[The Heir of Gryffindor, Raven Nicholas Weasley, is today wearing the Gryffindor House Relic Uniform. As a House Heir automatically gains status within the corresponding House, the Heir is recognized as belonging to Gryffindor House.]
[The school administration hereby rules that the objection is sustained.]
[The penalty is null and void. So hereby notified.]
[Headmaster’s Office, Hogwarts.]
A “House Relic Uniform”—Snape had never heard of such a thing.
Yet he did know that in Hogwarts’ past, house uniforms were not uniform across all students, but existed in different tiers.
Ever since a certain former Headmaster, the school had done away with uniform tiers.
Returning to the letter at hand—it truly didn’t look like Dumbledore’s doing.
The hand resembled the script produced by the Quill of Acceptance on acceptance letters.
Could this mechanism regarding Relic Uniforms be something wired into Hogwarts’ core magic since its founding?
Snape silently folded the letter away.
He would confront Dumbledore about this later.
As for Raven… what else could he do?
Not knowing how to deal with him for now, Snape could only let him sit down and resume class.
That was Snape’s intention, but Raven had no plans to leave it at that.
He spoke up.
“These are Mr. Potter’s notes. Perhaps you should take a look at whether he was truly daydreaming or attentively recording things that caught his interest. If an incident like this creates resentment toward Potions in a young wizard and smothers Mr. Potter’s talent, I won’t be the only one to regret it.”
Catching the hidden meaning in Raven’s words, Snape flipped through Harry’s notebook.
Seeing the freshly written notes, the cold harshness in his expression softened slightly.
He also caught sight of the exact words he had spoken earlier:
[Bewitch the mind… brew glory…]
The handwriting was fresh, the ink still wet, and the final strokes slightly hurried.
Snape seemed to lose himself for a moment.
He pondered in silence as the air in the room grew thick and still.
At last, he spoke.
“Harry Potter answered correctly. Four points to Gryffindor.”
This time, his voice sounded strangely hollow.