Barbecue

Several days later.

Hogwarts.

Inside the Room of Requirement, smoke curls and fragrance fills the air.

As soon as Potions Master Snape stepped into the magical little house, he frowned.

Not far away, Harry held up several skewers of meat and waved his hand, "Want to try my barbecue?"

The Potions Master stared intently at the brat who looked remarkably like his mother, Lily Evans, his face so dark it seemed like it was about to drip water.

His dark, deep eyes, like a frozen pool, gleamed with a thoughtful light.

After a long pause, Snape finally said, "This is..."

"Human flesh search?"

Snape was not only a Potions researcher, but also a battle-hardened wizard.

He had smelled a similar odor countless times amidst the smoke and fire of war.

Roasted human flesh tastes different from that of other livestock.

It has a slight fragrance and a slightly sour taste.

This nightmarish aroma, while tempting to the mouth, also makes one's stomach acid surge and feel nauseous.

Snape closed his eyes in anguish.

He had already started thinking about how to save Harry Potter.

Should Harry be put to trial by the Ministry of Magic and sent to Azkaban?

Snape would never accept such an outcome!

Prisoners who associate with Dementor in Azkaban the Jail suffer indelible psychological trauma even after serving their sentences.

Even the most senior honorary healers and wizards at St. Mungo's Hospital couldn't handle that kind of spiritual bed.

Snape could not accept that Lily's child would suffer such a fate.

Faced with Snape's questioning, Harry showed no fear whatsoever after his secret was exposed.

He simply nodded calmly, even introducing the skewers in his hand to Snape: "This is Hermione's heart, and this is Malfoy's spleen..."

"This is my kidney..."

At this point, Harry's expression became somewhat manic, yet a glint of icy clarity shone in his emerald eyes. "The heart of Wise One, the spleen of a dragon, the root of the Chosen One —isn't that interesting?"

Before Snape could unleash a Crucifixion on him with his Cruciatus Curse, Harry's manic energy gradually dissipated.

He blinked his clear, emerald-like eyes and said gently, "Don't worry, these ingredients were multiplied using the [Flesh-Generating Charm]."

Snape put away his wand and waited for an explanation.

"I've recently been researching the impact coefficient of human flesh on the growth of wizards' magical power."

"The flesh of Muggle and the flesh of wizards, the flesh of Squib, Half-blood and Pure-blood, the taste..."

"Well, what I mean is, the impact coefficients vary greatly."

As he spoke, Harry frowned and took another bite of the roast meat in his hand. "In the end, we discovered that eating our own flesh and blood helps our magic increase the most, at the very least by about 90%."

"Of course, this data only looks good. In reality, because the base increase is too low, the magic power increase is still ridiculously slow."

"Damn it... why is my meat the worst? Malfoy's meat tastes the best..."

At that moment, Draco Malfoy's figure emerged from the darkness not far away.

His voice drifted out Youyou: "I recently read a book called 'The Classic of Classic of Mountains and Seas.' Harry, you're just like the gluttonous beast described in that book, you can never be satisfied."

"Do you know? My flesh is made from the pure Dragon's Bone Marrow."

Hermione and Neville emerged from the shadows, both carrying Butterbeer.

The academically gifted girl looked at Harry with a teasing expression. "You've been eating too much NZT48. The metabolism of the drug is putting a lot of strain on your kidneys. It's normal that it tastes bad; it would be strange if it tasted good."

That hit the nail on the head.

Harry frowned. "You're right... Damn it, I've been feeling dizzy and lightheaded lately, and my energy levels have dropped a lot."

"Perhaps I need a kidney transplant. Who will perform the surgery? Little Dragon?"

Malfoy squinted and looked over.

He smoothed his platinum-blonde hair and gave Harry the middle finger with a blank expression.

Hermione?

The Gu Ling little witch stuck out her tongue and covered her eyes. "Professor Wang Yan said—'Do not look at what is improper, do not listen to what is improper.'"

Harry sighed, glanced at Professor Snape, and then looked away.

With all due respect, Professor Snape may be very experienced in traditional Potions, but he has absolutely no idea how vast the Trio of Knowledge's knowledge base is now.

When Harry Potter was brewing Potions, he didn't like to "stir clockwise and counterclockwise a few times," but preferred to use a boiling and temperature measuring instrument.

Precise counting down to the second, weighing medicinal materials down to the milligram.

Perhaps there are some things in magic courses that cannot be quantified, such as the course of Prophecy.

But at least in Harry's view, Potions Class was mostly a subject that could be turned into a mechanical and cold accumulation of knowledge.

That's what he's best at.

It's alright.

For a scholar with sufficient knowledge, there are always more solutions than problems.

Moreover, compared to the side effects of nzt48, its quantity is the biggest problem.

"Dumbledore sent me to find you... what is it about?"

Snape looked at Harry with a cold expression.

Harry Potter clapped his hands, Draco Malfoy, standing beside him, took a gem from his Coiled Dragon Ring.

This is a simple-looking gemstone with no special luster and no indication that it has any special properties.

Snape, however, knew that this was the Philosopher's Stone, capable of turning any metal into Pure Gold and creating Elixir of Life.

He recently learned a word from Professor Wang Yan that he could use perfectly on this Philosopher's Stone.

Divine things are naturally obscured.

True treasures always appear simple and unadorned.

Harry didn't waste a second and immediately relayed Dumbledore's message to Snape.

"Has that old bee really gone mad?"

Snape became somewhat hysterical after hearing about the plan to "Execute Voldemort".

He even used Dumbledore's nickname and derogatory terms.

Let a group of junior wizards fight the Dark Lord?

"The Chosen One."

Snape muttered the word over and over, a contemptuous smile playing on his lips.

If the Magical World needs a newly enrolled wizarding apprentice to save it, then let the Magical World be destroyed.

Snape was ultimately a proud and stubborn character with a soft heart.

Although they repeatedly claimed they would never help Harry and the others do something reckless, they ultimately provided a great deal of technical support.

Poor Voldemort.

Back then, after being hit by the rebounding curse, his body was shattered, leaving him as a wisp of remnant soul.

He had barely managed to survive until now, only to fall into another carefully laid trap.

The layout has been set.

Voldemort didn't even manage to distract the Survival Quartet much.

Harry and his friends focused primarily on their final exams.

They were trying to get a perfect grade so they could skip directly to seventh grade.

According to Hermione Granger's prediction, they would only need a year to copy all the knowledge from the books at Hogwarts.

While doing other things, you can slowly digest these books.

The five or six years saved can be used to do more important things.

(I'm not satisfied, I'm so sad, I want to cry)