Statues were always being broken, like the statue of Gregory, Hogwarts's bootlicker.
Because a secret passage was hidden behind it, careless Young Wizards had cast quite a few Repairing Charms on the fallen statue.
Just like Professor Snape now, he had emerged from a long period of stagnation and turned his gaze toward the Young Wizard who had shattered it.
But sometimes, silence was relative.
Professor Snape's gloomy eyes brimmed with coldness, yet Sean seemed utterly oblivious, carrying a hint of excitement.
He expertly lit the cauldron, then carefully took out ingredients from the Glass Cabinet filled with all manner of grotesque specimens.
A white slip of paper was tucked inside Advanced Potion-Making, then became shrouded in misty steam.
"Ingredient preparation, heat control, stirring, ritual..."
Sean recalled every annotation in the notes.
The procedures and details within were the results of his repeated summaries and improvements.
Only this kind of scientific, quantifiable research allowed him to reliably brew proficient-level potions.
And today, the quality of the Scurvy Paste might very well improve once again.
That filled Sean with motivation.
"If you possess even a shred of intelligence, Sean Green—you would use those Dried Nettles carefully and add them the moment the bubbles begin to form..."
Professor Snape suddenly spoke.
Before he could finish, Sean added the Dried Nettles to the bubbling cauldron.
At the same time, the Quill of Acceptance beside him recorded this detail.
He seemed entirely unaffected by the mockery.
Snape's gloomy gaze paused slightly, but soon, his voice rose again alongside a sudden rumble of thunder.
"Ignorant fool—do you not know that if you stir counterclockwise for more than two and a half turns, the quality of this potion will be worse than the filth in the cauldron?!"
Sean decisively stopped stirring, then began counting the seconds