History of Magic and Potions

History of Magic itself was not dull.

What was dull and flavorless was merely Professor Binns's way of teaching.

He was probably too old.

It was said that when Hogwarts had first been founded and he had still been alive, his classes had been fairly lively and interesting. Even people like Slytherin praised him for his quick thinking and clear mind.

But now, he only read from the book in a wheezing, drawn-out voice, without emotion and without end. He rarely communicated with the students.

Lynn even felt that Professor Binns's voice possessed magic. Even someone like him, who had been a good student through two lifetimes and had never slept in class, felt a drowsy urge whenever he listened to the professor lecture.

Professor Binns did not give Lynn a single chance to show off throughout the entire lesson. Of course, Lynn had no intention of doing so either, because he truly could not imagine what kind of talent corresponded to History of Magic.

After the morning classes ended, Lynn ate lunch in the Great Hall. Then, hugging the heavy History of Magic textbook they had just used, he sat beside the fireplace in the common room and reviewed what Professor Binns had just covered.

He had been somewhat distracted during class, but fortunately, he had written down all the notes he needed in the book. Reviewing them now would help deepen his impression.

"I heard."

A blond upper-year boy with a rather sunny appearance walked up to Lynn and said with a smile.

"You earned five points for Slytherin in Professor Flitwick's class, especially in front of a bunch of proud Ravenclaws."

The newcomer was Raphael Williamson, Slytherin's male prefect and also the boyfriend of Betty, the female prefect.

"It was only five points. That is not something worth praising, and I was merely lucky. I probably will not have another opportunity like that in the future."

Lynn was not being modest. He was simply laying the groundwork.

After learning that the talent points gained through praise and points were one-time only, he no longer intended to perform in class.

In a place like Hogwarts, especially with the coming years unlikely to be peaceful, Lynn felt it was better to keep a low profile.

Raphael did not pay attention to Lynn's words. He seemed completely immersed in his own world, chattering endlessly about how they had to carry on Slytherin's glory. As long as the young wizards of every year worked together, the House Cup would remain in Slytherin House indefinitely.

However, Lynn knew that was merely his fantasy. Next year, their headmaster Dumbledore would personally step in and tip the scales, turning the House Cup into something shaped like Gryffindor.

No one dared to be late for Potions class that afternoon.

Even though they were all freshmen, the prefects had already educated the young wizards about Professor Snape's fearsome reputation at Hogwarts. After provoking a good-tempered professor into anger that morning, no one was foolish enough to stroke the tiger's whiskers again.

In the Potions classroom, every student had a cauldron in front of them. On the shelves around them were brightly displayed various magical creature body parts and certain unusual internal organs.

Combined with the dim surroundings, even slightly timid girls had already turned pale. Their eyes dared only stare fixedly at the cauldrons before them.

Professor Snape's face was also very pale. Not only that, his eyes were hollow, his expression stiff, and his hair greasy like reflective tinfoil. It made one instinctively want to give him a bottle of shampoo as a Christmas present.

Sitting below, Lynn could not help thinking of the nickname an unscrupulous author had given him in some trashy novel he had read in his previous life—No-Wife Face.

"I am pleased that no fool has chosen to arrive late to my class." Professor Snape's voice was not loud, and it was very soft, yet every young wizard could hear exactly what he said.

He walked down from the podium, moving slowly but oppressively between the desks.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is no foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I do not expect you to truly understand the beauty of a softly simmering cauldron giving off white smoke and waves of fragrance, nor will you truly comprehend the wondrous magic of liquids flowing into people's veins, bewitching their senses and clouding their wills..."

His voice gradually softened.

"I can teach you how to improve your reputation, brew glory, and even stop death—but only if you are not the sort of hopeless dunderheads I so often encounter."

"So..."

Suddenly, his tone shifted.

"Can anyone infer from the potion ingredients before you what kind of potion we will be brewing in this lesson?"

Whenever his gloomy gaze swept over a young wizard, the poor child would shrink back desperately.

Then Professor Snape's gaze met Lynn's.

Lynn showed no fear whatsoever. He smiled as he looked straight into No-Wife Face's hollow, icy eyes, raised his hand high, and kept encouraging himself in his mind.

He is an old bachelor who cannot get a wife. He is an old bachelor who cannot get a wife. He is an old bachelor who cannot get a wife...

"Oh, Belloc, then please stand up and tell us what brilliant insight you have."

He sounded as though he were mocking him for no reason, yet it also seemed as if that was simply how he spoke.

Lynn did not care about his tone. Instead, he looked at the ingredients beside the cauldron before him and spoke smoothly.

"Dried nettles, snake fangs, horned slugs, porcupine quills... These are the ingredients for the third potion recorded in Potions and Poisons, a potion specifically used to treat boils."

"It is an especially effective remedy for pustules, measles, boils, and other symptoms of lymphatic tuberculosis. Caution is required when brewing it. Improper preparation will cause this potion to produce boils instead of curing them. The sign of successful brewing is pink smoke rising from the cauldron."

"The book emphasizes that when making this potion, special care must be taken when adding porcupine quills. The cauldron must first be removed from the flame. Otherwise, it will melt and give off a terrible smell. The leaking potion will also cause boils to grow on any skin it touches..."

At that point, Lynn finally stopped amid the awestruck gazes of the Slytherin and Hufflepuff young wizards. He looked at Professor Snape and said humbly.

"That is all I can remember. If I missed anything, I would appreciate the professor adding it."

Snape's expression remained unchanged. He did not show any special emotion because of Lynn's excellent answer.

"Hmph. I hope your practical skills are as good as your theoretical knowledge."

Snape expressionlessly returned to the podium and said in an neither warm nor cold tone.

"Slytherin gains 10 points."

Your outstanding performance in Potions class caused the Potions professor—Severus Snape—to award points to your House. Potions Talent +1, Potions Effect +1.

The system notification sounded only once, but Lynn was not surprised. He had long guessed that Snape was the sort who was willing to award points to his own House yet reluctant to praise others, a typical proud and tsundere Slytherin. So he had already prepared himself for a prolonged battle with him in Potions class.

I did not ask for votes yesterday, so yesterday's recommendation vote income plummeted. The household can barely make ends meet. Please pity this unscrupulous author. (T＿T)