The cauldron's warmth could not conceal Snape's icy fury.
Nimbus 2000.
The word was like a key, instantly unlocking a box of memories filled with humiliation, jealousy, and helplessness.
When those eyes became connected once more to that foolish activity, a sharp fury at being betrayed and mocked surged up within him.
He nearly blurted out the most vicious sarcasm, wanting to smash that broom and every filthy memory it represented.
Sean carefully handled the ingredients, completely unaware of Professor Snape's murderous glare.
Professor Sprout had just taught him the techniques for handling Southern Ginger powder, Wood Sorrel, Mugwort, and Aloe Juice.
If he did not follow the notes with full concentration, he would inevitably overlook some minor details.
So he picked up the notes and examined them carefully by the light of a magical candle.
As if sensing something strange, he turned around and met Professor Snape's exceedingly cold gaze.
Still focused, he paid it no mind and silently turned back to work on the Wood Sorrel.
He quietly reviewed his own process, wondering which step had gone wrong again.
Professor Snape was undoubtedly harsh. After all, he only wanted to teach geniuses, not ordinary people.
His teaching was like holding children who had just finished primary school to the standards expected of doctoral students.
And things that seemed self-evident to him were like the Book of Heaven to little children.
To the vast majority of Young Wizards, he was so harsh that merely mentioning him frightened Wizards.
But to Sean...
He could be considered a good professor.
Sean carefully chopped up the Wood Sorrel. The herb was pale pink and had a faint scent similar to vinegar. Since it resembled the physalis of the Lantern Plant, it was called Wood Sorrel.
In the Wizarding World, it could be