Snape's private lessons were tedious.
He barely spoke, only occasionally giving instructions when they reached ingredients that needed special handling.
Amid the smoke filling the room, Klein studied with utmost concentration, making occasional notes in the thick black book he carried with him. By the time Snape finished brewing the so-called "New Hemostatic Potion," Klein had filled a page and a half.
"Have you learned it?"
With a light tap of his wand on the rim of the cauldron, Snape stored the finished potion in a crystal vial he had prepared earlier. Then he turned to Klein, expressionless.
"Yes, Professor."
Klein mentally reconstructed the brewing process from beginning to end, then nodded confidently.
"Good. Now it's your turn."
Snape's eyes twitched almost imperceptibly. Klein's answer had been a little different from what he'd expected, and he stepped aside from the workbench.
"Yes."
With permission granted, Klein immediately began brewing.
Sorting, grinding, extracting, adding the ingredients to the cauldron, lighting the fire.
He moved quickly, without the slightest hesitation. Every step looked as if he had rehearsed it countless times in his mind—utterly flawless.
Snape waited beside him, ready to point out mistakes, his feelings complicated.
To reproduce every step perfectly after watching it just once was absurd.
"Add the crushed Red Fence Leaf in ten minutes."
Whatever Snape thought, Klein simply followed the instructions and brewed methodically. After completing the initial stages, he waited for the potion to change, then paused to wipe his hands and look at Snape, who hadn't said a word.
"Not bad."
Even the pickiest potion-maker couldn't have found a fault in Klein's brewing. Watching those sapphire-blue eyes, Snape felt both pleased and helpless.
He'd never imagined he would one day worry because a student learned too quickly.
"That's good, then."
Hearing the praise, Klein breathed a sigh of relief.
One thing led to another. As a master of Alchemy entering the field of Potions, he had certain advantages—his machine-like precision was one of them. But his goal wasn't to become a Master of Pharmaceutical Manufacturing. He wanted to become a Potions Master. Simply imitating and copying wasn't nearly enough; coming up with new recipes was the mark of real progress.
"Be careful not to miss the right time to add the ingredients."
Seeing that Klein hadn't relaxed just because everything had gone smoothly, Snape's expression softened slightly, though he still reminded him in a low, stern voice.
He inhaled the smoke rising from the cauldron, narrowed his eyes, and couldn't help the slight pull at the corner of his mouth.
The potion was of excellent quality. He couldn't have done any better himself.
"Yes, Professor."
Klein nodded, calculating the time precisely.
Neither of them spoke again. The office grew stiflingly quiet, with only the potion bubbling in the cauldron and releasing a dreamlike haze.
"Grindelwald, have you read Basic Herbology and Potions?"
Surprisingly, Snape was the first to break the silence, asking Klein in a low voice.
"Of course. It's essential reading for anyone who makes potions."
Klein nodded.
In fact, he'd read more than just Basic Herbology and Potions. He'd memorized its sequel, Herbology and Potions (502nd Revised Edition), along with The Art of the Cauldron and Fascinating Potions.
In terms of theory, he was on the same level as Snape.
"Hmm. It must have been very difficult for you."
Something seemed to occur to Snape. His expression relaxed, and even his cold, cutting tone softened.
"Reading is something I enjoy, Professor."
Klein's heart stirred, but he didn't dare trust his guess, so he simply went along with Snape's words.
"Making the most of every opportunity to change yourself—that's good. I admire that about you. Of course, only that."
Snape couldn't help looking at Klein with understanding and sympathy. Then he gave a slight cough, as if realizing something, and quickly corrected himself, returning to his original, detached manner.
"Uh, thank you?"
Klein didn't know how to respond. Snape was acting a little strangely.
Almost as if...
He had a sudden excess of motherly affection?
Klein drew a sharp breath and promptly abandoned that ridiculous theory.
Still, Snape's change in attitude toward him really had come out of nowhere.
What had happened?
"Watch the temperature, Grindelwald. Careful. Last week, Dumbledore told me a few things about you."
For some reason, Snape, who was usually so taciturn, seemed especially eager to talk today. But he didn't appear used to it, and his expression was conflicted.
Klein remained silent.
"You couldn't choose the circumstances of your birth. That wasn't your fault. Geniuses always have to overcome countless difficulties."
Snape's voice was low, as if he were comforting Klein—or talking to himself.
"I know."
Klein lowered his head and stirred the cauldron, beginning to understand.
Snape's sudden change in attitude had to be connected to Albus the Great Deceiver.
"I... I had an unhappy childhood too, just like you, but I kept studying. Diligence and practicality are important. I heard you never stopped reading, even when you were homeless on the streets. That's good."
Snape looked at Klein and saw himself as he'd once been.
An unhappy childhood, ambition, extraordinary talent, good looks, long hair...
Klein Grindelwald was another Severus Snape.
At least, that was what he thought.
"I'll do my best, Professor."
A master at pretending not to understand what he already knew, Klein wisely played along with Snape. It wasn't as if Dumbledore had lied, either. When Klein had first arrived in this world in his previous life, he really had suffered a great deal.
"Hmm."
Snape nodded slightly. He'd said all he wanted to say and resumed his cold expression.
When the potion came to a boil, Klein added the next ingredient and continued stirring.
Time passed. The potion gradually changed. Klein tapped the rim of the cauldron with his wand, and the batch of hemostatic potion was done.
Snape nodded.
"All right, Grindelwald. Here's your assignment for today."
Snape personally collected the potion Klein had brewed, then pulled a fresh sheet of parchment from his robe pocket, feigning impatience.
"Thank you, Professor. Good night."
Klein didn't waste time. He took the parchment and left.
Only after Klein had left the office did Snape sit down again. He gazed pensively at the freshly brewed "hemostatic potion" in the crystal vial.
If it was Klein, he could surely inherit all of Snape's knowledge perfectly—and take it even further.
At the thought, a glimmer of light finally returned to his eyes, so often dimmed.
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