“It’s honestly lucky that we have Potions with Hufflepuff today.” Terry Boot let out a relieved sigh as he carried his books through the dungeon corridor.
“At least there isn’t a house Professor Snape particularly hates or favors during this class.” Beside him, Anthony Goldstein shook his head immediately.
“That’s not necessarily true.” Terry blinked.
“What do you mean?” Anthony lowered his voice mysteriously.
“You have to remember that Adam has earned a huge number of points for Ravenclaw over the last few days.” He glanced toward Adam walking calmly beside them.
“Ravenclaw is currently leading the House Cup standings by quite a bit.” “And if Slytherin wants to win the House Cup this year…” Anthony paused dramatically.
“…Professor Snape might start targeting Ravenclaw instead.” Terry nearly stopped walking.
“He can do that?!” Anthony gave him a helpless look.
“He’s Professor Snape.” “That basically answers the question.” Terry looked horrified.
“But isn’t that completely unfair?” “How can a teacher behave like that?” “Doesn’t the Headmaster care?” Over the past several days, Terry had developed a very positive impression of Hogwarts professors.
Professor Filius Flitwick was cheerful and encouraging.
Professor Minerva McGonagall was strict but responsible.
Even Professor Sprout seemed kind and patient.
As a result, Terry subconsciously assumed every professor at Hogwarts behaved professionally.
Anthony only sighed again.
Before he could answer, however— The dungeon classroom door suddenly swung open.
A tall black figure swept into the room like an enormous bat.
The already chilly dungeon instantly seemed several degrees colder.
Conversations died immediately.
Every student straightened instinctively.
Severus Snape had arrived.
Adam calmly observed the Potions professor from his seat.
Thin.
Pale.
Shoulder-length greasy black hair framing a sallow face.
A hooked nose.
Cold black eyes that resembled dark tunnels.
And an expression permanently caught somewhere between irritation and contempt.
Snape walked toward the podium silently, his robes billowing behind him like living shadows.
The atmosphere inside the classroom immediately became suffocating.
Unlike Professor Flitwick’s cheerful energy or McGonagall’s stern dignity, Snape possessed a completely different kind of authority.
Fear.
Simple and effective.
Without raising his voice even once, he could silence an entire classroom merely by existing.
After taking attendance, Snape paused slightly upon reaching Adam’s name.
“Ambrosius.” His dark eyes lingered briefly on Adam.
The look clearly carried hidden meaning.
Ever since Adam earned points in Professor Flitwick’s class and began attracting attention around Hogwarts, the professors had naturally started noticing him more carefully.
And Snape was no exception.
Once attendance ended, Snape slowly turned toward the class.
“You are here,” he began softly, “to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making.” His voice barely rose above a whisper.
Yet every student heard him clearly.
“There will be little foolish wand-waving in this class.” Snape’s gaze swept across the room coldly.
“So many of you may hardly believe this is magic at all.” He moved slowly between the desks while speaking.
“I cannot teach you how to bottle fame…” “…brew glory…” “…or even put a stopper in death.” Several students visibly swallowed nervously.
“But that only applies,” Snape continued silkily, “if you are not as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.” The dungeon classroom fell completely silent.
Even breathing sounded dangerous.
Adam remained calm.
Honestly, Snape’s famous opening speech was even more dramatic in person than in the original story.
Then suddenly— “Ambrosius!” Snape’s voice cut sharply through the silence.
Every student immediately turned toward Adam.
“What would I obtain,” Snape asked smoothly, “if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?” Not even a second passed before Adam answered calmly.
“The Draught of Living Death, Professor.” A faint flicker appeared in Snape’s eyes.
Most first years still looked completely lost.
Snape continued immediately.
“What ingredients are required to brew a Boil-Cure Potion?” “Dried nettles, crushed snake fangs, horned slugs, and porcupine quills.” “What are the effects and side effects of Pepperup Potion?” “It treats common colds,” Adam answered evenly, “while causing steam to emerge from the drinker’s ears.” “What potion can be brewed using crushed rose thorns and powdered moonstone?” “Amortentia.” The classroom became quieter and quieter.
Snape’s questions increased in difficulty continuously.
First-year content.
Then second-year material.
Then third-year.
Eventually, even older students might have struggled answering some of them.
Yet Adam answered almost every question flawlessly.
Only the final question finally managed to stop him briefly.
Even then, he merely frowned thoughtfully instead of panicking.
“…I don’t know the answer to that one yet, Professor.” Silence filled the classroom.
Then every student turned toward Adam with expressions bordering on worship.
Several first years stared openly with their mouths hanging wide open.
Terry looked ready to collapse from shock.
Anthony muttered weakly, “What kind of monster…” Meanwhile, Snape simply stared at Adam expressionlessly from the podium.
Nobody could tell whether he was satisfied or irritated.
Finally, Snape spoke again.
“It appears,” he said coldly, “that Mr.
Ambrosius has at least bothered preparing before attending class.” His dark gaze swept across the remaining students.
“Unlike certain other people.” Some students immediately glanced toward Harry Potter out of pure instinct.
Snape continued.
“At the very least, Mr.
Ambrosius understands the value of reviewing material taught to older students.” Then he narrowed his eyes slightly.
“So why are the rest of you still sitting there like idiots?” “Write those answers down.” The stunned students instantly scrambled for their quills.
The sound of frantic scribbling immediately filled the dungeon.
Adam calmly sat back down.
If this had been any other class, that performance would probably have earned Ravenclaw at least ten or twenty points.
However— This was Snape’s classroom.
Just as Adam assumed class would finally begin normally, Snape suddenly spoke again while turning toward the blackboard.
“Two points to Ravenclaw.” The classroom froze.
Everyone looked stunned.
Snape had actually awarded points.
To a non-Slytherin student.
The event felt so impossible that several students looked genuinely frightened.
Snape ignored their reactions completely.
“Today,” he said coldly, “you will learn to brew a basic Boil-Cure Potion.” And just like that, the lesson officially began.
By lunchtime, news had already spread throughout Hogwarts.
The student who earned house points from Professor Snape.
A Ravenclaw first year.
And not just any Ravenclaw first year— Adam Ambrosius.
The story spread through the castle at ridiculous speed.
Even many second and third-year students began staring at Adam with admiration.
Several older Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs even came specifically to the Ravenclaw table during dinner just to see him personally.
After all— For years, many students genuinely believed Snape only awarded points to Slytherin.
Now someone had broken the impossible.
Fortunately, the attention remained harmless.
Most students simply stared curiously before leaving.
Adam himself remained completely calm about the situation.
Compared to his previous life, where internet fame could become unbearable overnight, this level of attention barely bothered him.
That night, however, something unusual happened.
Adam didn’t fall asleep.
Inside the Ravenclaw dormitory, Anthony and Terry continued studying late into the evening like proper Ravenclaws.
Eventually, sometime after midnight— Both finally collapsed asleep from exhaustion.
Adam quietly opened his eyes.
The room was silent.
Moonlight streamed softly through the windows.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
“Finally…” Ever since arriving at Hogwarts, Adam had secretly wanted to do one thing.
Night wandering.
Sneaking through Hogwarts Castle at night was practically a sacred tradition among Hogwarts students.
Originally, Adam had delayed because he still wasn’t fully familiar with the castle’s layout.
Hogwarts was enormous.
Moving staircases.
Secret passages.
Hidden doors.
Disappearing hallways.
Without preparation, getting lost was extremely easy.
But after several days of careful observation, Adam now understood most major routes within the castle.
Aside from some secret passages and staircase movement patterns, he could navigate reasonably well.
Which meant— Tonight was perfect.
Quietly climbing out of bed, Adam slipped on his robe and picked up his wand.
Fou-Fou opened one sleepy eye from the pillow.
“Meow…” “Stay here,” Adam whispered.
The white cat yawned dramatically before going back to sleep immediately.
Adam chuckled softly and left the dormitory alone.
The Ravenclaw common room at night felt peaceful and mysterious.
Moonlight illuminated the starry ceiling while the castle beyond the windows remained wrapped in darkness.
Slowly, Adam descended the tower staircases.
The castle at night possessed an entirely different atmosphere compared to daytime.
Quiet.
Ancient.
Almost alive.
Portraits snored softly inside their frames.
Candles floated silently through corridors.
Distant suits of armor occasionally moved slightly on their own.
Adam wandered calmly from floor to floor while admiring Hogwarts’ nighttime beauty.
Honestly— It felt magical in the purest sense of the word.
Then suddenly— Footsteps echoed ahead.
Adam immediately stopped moving.
Several figures appeared around the corner.
The moment they saw Adam standing there, the newcomers froze in horror.
And Adam blinked in surprise as well.
Harry Potter.
Ron Weasley.
And Hermione Granger.
The three looked absolutely terrified.
Clearly, they hadn’t expected to encounter anyone else wandering the castle at one in the morning.
For a split second— All three opened their mouths to scream.
But Adam reacted faster.
“Silencio.” A nearly invisible flash shot from his wand.
Instantly, Harry, Ron, and Hermione froze.
Their mouths continued opening and closing in panic— Yet no sound emerged whatsoever.
Give me more motivation!