Infuriating!

Professor Victor glanced at the time; there were still ten minutes until the end of class. Seeing the eager expressions on the faces of the young wizards, she smiled and said softly, "Class dismissed."

"Marvelous!"

"Long live the professor!"

The young wizards cheered and quickly pulled out their notebooks, beginning to use the Arithmancy their own fortunes and those of their friends.

Loren tore a page off his notebook and slammed it in front of Hermione. It contained Divination based on the girl's name. Pointing to the illegible "4, 4, 3," he said, "It's very similar to Nicolas Flamel's. Both your personality number and soul number are 4. You are a representative of stability, solidity, and diligence. You enjoy logical thinking and reasoning, are very organized, and can ensure that work is completed smoothly... You are practical and trustworthy."

"Hmm, the first number is very accurate, it's practically copied from your template. As for the soul number..." Loren interpreted it somewhat uncertainly, "You might be a bit stubborn... and prone to suspicion?"

Suspicious...

Hermione silently examined herself.

Is there?

No, I don't think so...

Loren raised his eyes and scrutinized Hermione closely, as if trying to see something out of her face.

Hermione felt uneasy under his gaze, and just as she was about to push his face away, he spoke again, "That point doesn't seem to be reflected much... but the second point, that you sometimes focus too much on practicality and often overwork yourself, is indeed true."

Hermione didn't refute, but still stubbornly insisted, "I just think these classes are very interesting, and I want to try them out first."

"Look at your dark circles. When I write to Monica at the end of the month, you'll be in for a beating when you go back for Christmas."

Hermione stared wide-eyed in disbelief, her long, beautiful eyelashes fluttering. "How old are you? Why do you need your parents to handle school matters?"

"Tch, as long as it works, that's fine. Even if you're eighteen, you're still afraid of your mother's beating." Loren's expression was extremely roguish. "Let's look at the last number. 3 represents perfect achievement. People with this number are willing to provide services to others. Many of them are teachers, scholars, or humanitarians. At the same time, they can also be quite arrogant and may act self-righteous."

After reading the numbers aloud, Loren clicked his tongue in satisfaction. "All correct. My first Divination was so accurate. I really do have talent."

Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes. "What does talent have to do with this? Anyone who can read and do addition and subtraction can get the same result, right? And where is it accurate? Where am I arrogant? When have I ever been presumptuous?"

"Ha!" Loren scoffed in feigned indifference. "Who was it that was so arrogant in the first year, going around giving orders to everyone, and almost got ostracized by everyone?"

He asked and answered himself in a cheeky tone, "Oh, it's the famous Miss Know-It-All."

"You!"

Hermione's fist hardened, and she gritted her teeth. "My turn. Let's see your name."

Hermione quickly completed the calculations on the parchment, looking at the final three numbers "6, 9, 6," flipping through the reference table with a rustling sound, "6 represents harmony, friendship, and family. People with this number are loyal, responsible, and loving, and their talents are outstanding..."

Damn it, why are all the comments praising me?

Seeing the smug look practically spreading across the person's face, Hermione grew even angrier. She quickly skipped the middle section and found what she wanted in the latter part.

Hermione cleared her throat and raised her voice slightly. "People with this number like to gloat, spread rumors, and join in the fun!"

Loren blinked. "Is that so? I don't deny it."

Hermione gritted her teeth, feeling a tightness in her chest.

Damn it, I forgot he's a shameless person. This kind of talk isn't even considered bad for him.

"Next number!" Hermione said fiercely, "Soul number 9. This number reveals your desires and fears. You are controlling and afraid of things getting out of your control..."

"That seems to be the case~"

"..."

Ugh, I'm so annoyed!

The weekend is here again.

The process of refining Wolfsbane Potion is not difficult, but the ingredients are somewhat complicated. It requires constant monitoring, and the heat must be adjusted according to the phase of the moon and the weather. If there is a thunderstorm with lightning, the fire must be turned off and the process resumed after the rain stops.

Moon phases, lightning, storms... These involve the underlying principles of magic that are difficult to explain, at least for Loren at present. He can only follow the experience of his predecessors.

Loren had already simulated normal weather several times in the Fantasy Book, and he was able to brew it successfully on the second try, but the efficacy of the medicine could not be verified in the Fantasy Book.

However, judging from Flamel's reaction, it was very powerful.

The first day of school, September 1st, is a full moon; the next full moon will likely be at the end of the month. The Wolfsbane Potion needs to be taken a week in advance, and it should be prepared before the 23rd, which gives us ample time.

After dinner on Friday, Loren took advantage of the time to digest his food and sneaked into Snape's office in the basement. He casually pushed open the door and went in. Snape was grading papers.

He handed over the notebook containing detailed instructions on how to brew the [Wolfsbane Potion - Rafflesia Modified Version] and asked, "Professor Snape, the specific steps for brewing have been determined. It's just a matter of adjusting the stirring method and heat compared to the original version. However, I'd like to confirm the dosage again. It seems that the amount of Rafflesia extract added exceeds the optimal dosage, but I can't calculate how much to reduce it by. Could you take a look?"

Snape put the quill he used for grading the homework back into the ink bottle, picked up the notebook and started looking at it from the beginning without looking up. "The Rafflesia was added to the basic version, so adding more won't have a big impact. Just add as much as you want."

"It has an impact."

What impact?

"It's difficult to prepare, and patients may not be able to drink it."

"What's wrong with drinking it?" Snape suddenly paused, frowning as he asked, "Why did you add Rue?"

Loren glanced at his expression discreetly, and only after confirming that there was nothing amiss did he reply, "Rue has a mild calming effect, which can alleviate the discomfort caused by the Wolfsbane Potion. Moreover, its Magic Power is very weak and its effects are slow, so it will not affect the efficacy of the medicine."

Snape examined it carefully, his expression neither sad nor happy, revealing nothing. After a while, he said, "The idea is feasible, but the effect of Rue is too weak, almost imperceptible. Adding it or not doesn't matter. As for the dosage of Rafflesia, there's no need to change it."

"Huh? But according to my calculations, this dosage is indeed too high; it should be reduced."

"Potions Master is not Arithmancy." Snape looked up at him, his tone flat. "It's a practical discipline. You should adjust the dosage of drugs based on the patient's feedback, not on your own calculations."

"What do you mean by clinical trials before experiments..." Loren muttered under his breath.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing."

"Potions making is like magic—you make it and then modify it. No matter how many calculations you do, it can't compare to a single practice session. Potions brewing is a magical ritual, just like a spell. If the magic doesn't work, you'll never know if you've recited the incantation correctly." Snape said, getting up and rummaging through the bookshelf behind his desk. He pulled out a book called "The Blackening Cauldron and Taster" and handed it to him. "It records some cases of ancient wizards adjusting Potions recipes. Take this and take a look."

"OK."

"Once you've made it through the ordeal, send it to Lupin a week before the full moon, and try to observe him yourself."

"Okay—hmm?"

Loren looked up in disbelief, "He just gave Professor Lupin my Potions! And I have to figure out how to observe him myself!?"

"What does it matter?" Snape glanced at him indifferently. "He'll just hide in the Shrieking Shack anyway. Even if your potion fails, Sekiro can't cause any trouble at Hogwarts."

"This..." Loren felt a cold sweat breaking out on his back.

"Do you want me to give you a note? I can get you a note from Dumbledore too."

"No need, this isn't something that can be done with an approval slip."

"There are ten portions of medicine in the locket on the cabinet by the door. You can go now." Snape waved his hand, adding a reminder, "Pay attention to the brewing time and the Full Moon. The Wolfsbane Potion needs to be given to him a week in advance."

"Knew."

After the door closed and Loren left, Snape picked up his quill from the inkwell again and continued grading papers, a small smile playing on his lips.

From the first year, he noticed Loren's talent in Potions Master, but the first two years he taught him only the basics, the fundamentals of Potions brewing. The key to becoming a true Potions Master lies in the ability to research and optimize formulas.

As a long-term project spanning decades, the fact that Loren was able to develop a feasible solution for the Wolfsbane Potion in such a short time proves that his vision was correct, Loren's future achievements may even surpass his.

As for Lupin, it was just a minor incident during his teaching, a way for him to have some fun.

Anyway, he'll be the one who benefits from improving the Wolfsbane Potion.

Ink flowed from the tip of the quill pen, soaking into the parchment and creating smooth annotations; even the rustling sound of the pen tip gliding across the paper was pleasant.

Harry Potter assignment grade: D (Terrible)

Snape continued writing and reviewing, his smile growing even wider.

When Harry returned to the Gryffindor Common Room, it was almost time for lights to go out. A group of third-year wizards surrounded him, sighing and looking distressed.

Loren entered through the Portrait Hole, casually picked up Crookshanks from the cave entrance, sat down next to them, and asked somewhat strangely, "What are you doing sleeping here? Planning a night stroll or throwing a Pajama Party?"

"Meow~" Crookshanks lazily meowed and obediently lay down on his lap, like a fluffy ginger-yellow cushion.

Harry sighed. "We're trying to figure out how to convince Wood."

Oh, Quidditch.

That's alright then.

Loren quickly scratched Crookshanks's chin, the kitten squinting its eyes in pleasure. "What, are you planning to persuade him to give up the captaincy?"

"No, no!" Harry exclaimed in surprise, quickly explaining before the man could utter any more outrageous statements. "We're thinking about recruiting new players for the team. We should be recruiting in the third year, but Wood doesn't seem to be interested in recruiting."

"They're about to miss out on a genius like me..." Ron sighed sadly. "The team's current roster is just right, not too much, not too little. Wood doesn't want to spend time training new players; he's already in seventh grade and wants to win one more Quidditch Cup before graduating. Sigh..."

"They're going to miss us too, alas..." Seamus and Dean were equally melancholy.

"What are you two doing here? Even if we're recruiting, you wouldn't get selected." Loren stroked Crookshanks's fur down his back, making the kitten purr happily.

"That's outrageous! You can't even fly as well as we can!"

"That's right!"

Seamus and Dean joined forces to condemn him.

Loren said casually, "I don't want to join the team."

Seamus and Dean: "..."

How can he be so infuriating!

"Stop arguing, Seamus, Dean, you can't win against him," Harry said helplessly. "Loren, is there anything you can do to help us?"

Loren, engrossed in petting cats, asked, "What are the other players thinking?"

"Katie, Alicia, George, and Fred don't mind, but Angelina does want to recruit new members, though she's not very keen on it."

"Just state the pros and cons directly. He's graduating next year, and then there will be a change of captain, recruitment, and training with the new members. You'll just have to wait to be humiliated by Slytherin."

"Huh? Ah!"

"I'm going to find Wood right now!"

"Wait, Harry, it's almost midnight!"

After the young wizards stomped upstairs to their dormitories, the candles in the common room went out automatically, leaving only a few scattered red flames remaining in the embers of the fireplace.

Crookshanks opened his eyes, lightly jumped off the sofa, and lazily returned to sit down by the Portrait Hole. His bright yellow eyes gleamed with a cold, eerie light in the darkness.