Snape's Collapse

Lin Du naturally had no idea that he had already become the number one subject of observation on Miss Granger's "to-be-verified" list.

With the imminent pressure of the Basilisk incident no longer hanging over him, his life at Hogwarts had become unprecedentedly relaxed and carefree. His main focus was split between two core activities: "teasing Snape" and "studying Ancient Runes."

As a result, a certain scene frequently played out in the corridor outside the Potions classroom:

After the bell rang, Professor Snape, his black robes billowing, would always try to make a beeline back to his office in the dungeons, while Lin Du would inevitably "happen" to appear in his path.

"Severus, please wait!" Lin Du's voice would ring out at just the right moment, carrying that infuriating cheerfulness. "I've had some new inspiration regarding the idea you mentioned last time—combining Hell Broth with certain Ancient Runes to stabilize its potency fluctuations..."

Every time, Snape's complexion would darken at a visible rate, like Bubo Tuber Pus burnt to a crisp at the bottom of a cauldron.

He would try to drive Lin Du away with a murderous glare, responding with the briefest possible "No time" or "Get lost," but Lin Du's skin seemed thicker than a troll's hide. He would always ignore the low-pressure aura radiating from Snape, smiling as he stuck close, chattering endlessly about those "academic issues."

After several such encounters, Snape had nearly developed a conditioned reflex of PTSD.

The moment he heard Lin Du's laughter-laced "Severus," a wave of physiological revulsion would wash over him, and his ears would seem to echo with that spine-chilling line: "Could it be that you're actually worried about me?"

This "Lin Du Effect" even spread into the Potions lessons themselves.

During one particular Potions class, Neville Longbottom, as expected, caused another small-scale disaster—

He carelessly added Porcupine Quills to his cauldron before removing it from the fire, causing what should have been a beautiful pale lavender Draught of Forgetfulness to instantly turn into a bubbling, foul-smelling, dark green sludge. A minor explosion followed, splattering Seamus in the face.

The classroom fell silent. Everyone held their breath, waiting for Professor Snape's trademark sarcasm and the inevitable Gryffindor point deductions.

Snape glided silently to Neville's cauldron as usual, his black robes trembling slightly with his anger.

He opened his mouth, those thin lips already poised to spew the most venomous words.

"Mr. Longbottom, does your troll-sized brain fail to grasp even the most basic order of operations..."

His voice cut off abruptly.

Because his peripheral vision had caught sight of the classroom doorway.

Lin Du was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, wearing that all-too-familiar smile of someone enjoying the show, clearly waiting for him to finish class.

In an instant, Snape's ears seemed to ring with that piercing sound: "...beneath that fierce exterior, there's actually a warm heart..."

His stomach churned violently. All the scathing remarks he had prepared got stuck in his throat. His usual sallow complexion turned somewhat green.

He stood there stiffly, his lips twitching a few times, until finally, under the stunned gazes of the entire class, he forced out a choked, dry tone:

"Longbottom... next time, remember... to remove the cauldron from the fire... before adding the Porcupine Quills." He even barely squeezed out a few instructional words. "Clean up your workstation. Mr. Finnegan, go to Madam Pomfrey to get that treated."

With that, he practically fled toward the door, snarling at the beaming Lin Du: "Let's go! Now! Stop being a nuisance here!"

Then, under the stupefied stares of everyone, he was dragged off by Lin Du, an arm slung around his shoulder.

This incident spread through Hogwarts like wildfire.

"Professor Lin Du used just one look to make Professor Snape let Neville off the hook for blowing up his cauldron—and even gave him instructions!"

"Merlin's beard, who exactly is Professor Lin? Even Snape is afraid of him!"

"From now on, if Snape gives us trouble, we'll just say, 'Quick, summon Professor Lin Du!'"

For a time, Lin Du's popularity among the students reached its peak, unrivaled in fame.

He became the savior in the eyes of the students, especially the Gryffindors who were often "persecuted" by Snape.

Though Lin Du himself found it both amusing and exasperating, the reputation of "Old Ancestor Lin" was now thoroughly established at Hogwarts.

Meanwhile, in the dungeons, the Potions Master stood in his private storeroom, facing his most precious potion ingredients, and let out yet another sigh of resentment—who knew how many that day.

Of course, Lin Du hadn't forgotten his real business—

The special training for The Chosen One Harry was also being prepared in parallel.

Lin Du had kept a close eye on Harry's performance in practical classes. Dumbledore was right—the little fellow's combat performance was surprisingly good. But if he were to face the Basilisk with his current level...

That would be no different from delivering himself as an appetizer to the snake.

On Thursday afternoon, in front of the Hogwarts castle notice board, a group of students was gathered around a newly posted piece of parchment, whispering among themselves.

"Look! Professor Lin Du is starting a Duelling Club!" a Ravenclaw girl exclaimed excitedly, pointing at the notice.

"Starting next week," her companion read aloud. "'Open to all years, aimed at improving practical combat skills'... This is brilliant!"

The news spread quickly to every corner of the castle. When Harry, Ron, and Hermione pushed through the crowd to see the notice, their reactions varied.

"That's so cool!" Ron's eyes lit up. "Professor Lin Du is amazing—he's sure to teach us some real skills!"

Hermione, on the other hand, read every word of the notice carefully, her brow slightly furrowed. "This really is a great opportunity... but the timing is too convenient, right after we started investigating the Chamber."

Harry's gaze lingered on the words "improving practical combat skills," and his heart stirred inexplicably.

For some reason, he felt that the appearance of this Duelling Club was somehow, in a way he couldn't quite articulate, connected to him.