Snape had never imagined that one day he would encounter a student like this—and that this student would be his own blood relative. In all his years of teaching, he had never heard of such a thing, much less dared to imagine it.
A first-year who dared to brew Love Potion!
And in batches!
Even Voldemort probably couldn't have pulled off something like this back then! How had such an innately wicked little brat ended up in Ravenclaw rather than Slytherin? Though, as the Head of Slytherin House, he should not have thought this way, Snape truly could not understand the Sorting Hat's decision during the Sorting ceremony.
"Don't tell me Dumbledore approved of this."
In front of the Room of Requirement.
On the eighth-floor corridor, Snape wore a dark expression, his face stern. He had intended to punish Ian severely, only for Ian, trying to evade punishment, to bring him here.
"Maybe he would approve?"
Ian looked toward the Headmaster's Office.
He still had a trump card specifically meant for dealing with Dumbledore that he had yet to turn in.
"Hah. Dumbledore may indeed have ruined his reputation in his old age by doing something so filthy and despicable, but would he dare admit it? Prince, don't forget that I am your legal guardian."
There was still some resentment in Snape's eyes. Two tests, two definitive answers—he truly could not imagine that the respected Dumbledore had left behind a bloodline in the Prince Family.
His aunt had a husband! Damn Dumbledore! No wonder that old bastard had claimed back then that he had only had time to save one infant! After several nights of careful thought and piecing together clues, Snape had more or less finally understood why Ian was so exceptionally gifted—at least, he believed he understood.
"I'm