Professor Snape, Do You Know Nicolas Flamel?

They had a new clue—Fluffy was guarding something related to Nicolas Flamel, but neither of them recognized the name.

Actually, Eliana felt like she should have seen this name somewhere before, possibly related to money, but she had forgotten where she saw it and could always go back to the library to search again.

However, her daily schedule was simply too packed. Morning exercises, practicing Charms, previewing, studying, and reviewing—she had to get an 'O' for every assignment. She outlined each essay three times, which meant she had to dedicate more time to it. On top of that, she had to practice Potions, carve walnuts, gather supplies for the orphanage, and occasionally help Professor Snape with materials in his dungeon office, all while getting one-on-one guidance from the Potions Master and a few of his materials.

But that last part wasn't always successful.

Sometimes she'd be caught red-handed by Snape.

Then she'd be punished with detention—though it wasn't that scary for her, since what she did in his dungeon office every few days wasn't much different from detention anyway.

Except for one thing—the materials for actual detention were usually quite disgusting, like slimy rat tails or bloody pufferfish eyes.

Most importantly, they weren't very valuable, and she disdained even pocketing them, effectively making it pure unpaid labor.

Still, those instances weren't frequent. Most of the time, Snape turned a blind eye and let her take things. He only caught her when he was particularly busy or suddenly in a bad mood, like—

"Richie, if I catch you stealing my ingredients again, I'll turn you into a rope and hang you on the wall with my potion supplies!"

Snape slammed the essay paper in his hand aside and said furiously.

Eliana, who was innocently reading at a small table nearby: ???

She looked up in surprise. She hadn't started stealing anything today; she was still working on her homework.

There was no choice. The library lights went out at 8 PM, and she couldn't do anything without light. But the Gryffindor common room was simply too noisy. Eliana had spent some time figuring things out before finding this perfect new spot.

Quiet, spacious, and a teacher she could ask questions anytime. This teacher was also very capable, knowledgeable in everything from Charms to Potions. Most importantly—it didn't cost any money!

Eliana only regretted not discovering this treasure trove sooner.

She had put in considerable effort to "settle in" to this prime location—after all, she couldn't just walk up to Snape and say, "Old man, Gryffindor is too noisy, so I'm commandeering your office as my study space. You'd best be sensible and hand over half of it."

Snape would surely mince her into powder and throw her into Neville's cauldron, letting her ashes fly along with the cauldron's explosion.

So, at first, she did as she had before, voluntarily helping to process potion ingredients—without even sneaking any into her pockets—then pretending to be tired and sitting in a corner to rest for a while.

Snape didn't tell her to leave.

So, on the second day, she moved a little closer to the floor lamp and stayed a bit longer.

Snape ignored her.

On the third day, she took out a small stool she had prepared beforehand from her bag.

Seeing that Snape made no move, she curled up into a ball and began to study.

Snape's pen scratched louder across the parchment, but he didn't tell Eliana to get out.

So, on the fourth day, Eliana asked Snape if she could have a small table.

She was thrown out.

But when she returned the next day, a small table and chairs were placed in the corner.

She stealthily moved the floor lamp, which was originally near Snape's desk, to her table—Snape's office was rather dim—Snape's temple twitched, but he said nothing.

Eliana pretended not to see.

All in all, she had managed to establish a presence in the dungeon office.

Initially, she still did some chores before doing her homework, but later she stopped pretending and just did her homework directly, only helping with materials that were more valuable... no, more research-worthy.

Snape paused, then continued his tirade from a different angle, his expression unchanged: "Richie, did I not receive a notification from Dumbledore about converting the Slytherin Head of House's office into a personal lounge for Gryffindor students? Or does watching your humble professor frantically deal with your nonsensical essays and mountains of potion ingredients make your reading more immersive?"

Translation: You're using my office for free, and I'm so busy while you're so idle, get up and help me.

Heh, if you put it that way...

Eliana pouted and put down her book, shamefully going to peel the toad.

She fiercely stabbed the toad to death, then began dissecting it from its head.

But she wasn't really that angry. After getting familiar with Snape, she realized how busy he truly was.

One person had to teach seven grades, teaching alone from morning till night. In class, geniuses and troublemakers were constantly blowing things up and setting classrooms on fire, requiring him to clean up messes almost every lesson. After class, he had to deal with students fighting. When all that was done, he still had to grade homework, prepare lessons, make potions for the Hospital Wing, conduct castle patrols at night, and still find time to research his own potions—

After calculating it all, Eliana's respect for Snape grew even more—how could one person have so much energy and still do everything well!

Compared to him, she was so relaxed!

So she was quite happy to lend a hand to the incredibly busy Professor Snape occasionally.

But then she didn't have time to research Nicolas Flamel—Wait, why should she research it herself?

Eliana paused her toad-skinning, and peeked up stealthily in Snape's direction—wasn't there a walking library full of knowledge right here?

She looked up, hesitated, sighed, looked down and made a few cuts, frowned, looked up again, sighed again—performing a series of small actions trying to prompt him to ask.

If Snape were that considerate, he should be renamed Saint Snape.

He remained as quiet as death, looking down at his papers, completely ignoring her.

Eliana puffed out her cheeks and began to noisily fiddle with the poor, deceased toads, accompanied by heavy sighs.

"If your knife is broken, use your own to fix it," Snape said coldly, without looking up.

Eliana instantly became as quiet as a chicken. She nervously checked her small silver knife. Thankfully, it wasn't even chipped.

She demurely put the small knife aside, then stood up straight again, hands on her hips. "Professor, I actually have a question, and I haven't been able to find the answer, which makes me very anxious. I think if this continues, my fine character, noble soul, social graces, kind heart... will all be ruined."

Professor Snape's expression was as if the dead toad in Eliana's hand had jumped up and pounced on his face.

"I had no idea you possessed such things," he said coldly.

Eliana ignored him, looking at him pitifully.

Snape let out a cold snort from his nose. "What, does the esteemed Miss Richie need her professor to ask her to speak?"

This was something she could ask.

So Eliana paid no mind to his sarcastic remarks, chirping happily like a little bird. "Professor, do you know Nicolas Flamel?"

Snape's hand, which had been drawing a T on the paper, suddenly froze.