A Certain Scientific Harry Potter

"A well-answered question. It seems Mr. Granger is indeed quite knowledgeable about the textbook..."

"Don't be in such a hurry, Professor. I haven't finished answering this question yet~" Harry suddenly spoke up, cutting off Snape's feigned praise. "The textbook's description of the Bezoar is actually inaccurate!"

"Oh? Then I shall listen carefully to what profound insight Mr. Granger has to offer."

Snape gradually withdrew his disdain. The Bezoar was an extremely important medicinal ingredient to him, so he was very curious about what error Harry had discovered.

"The goat mentioned in the textbook is actually a domestic goat, which is the livestock currently being raised in large numbers worldwide. The stone removed from its stomach has a specific name called a Bezoar, but its function is to treat stomach ailments rather than to act as a universal antidote. Therefore, it is not a true Bezoar."

"A true Bezoar should be a stone obtained from the stomach of a wild goat; that is the substance that can be used as a highly effective antidote. By the way, gallstones taken from a cow's body can also produce the same effect as a Bezoar."

"This..."

Watching Harry, who stood before him speaking with such eloquence and absolute confidence, Snape was momentarily stunned.

This little brat... that air of confidence, almost identical to Lily's during Potions class—he still dares to say this isn't talent?!

"Harry... that's enough, don't you think?" Beside Harry, Hermione tugged at his sleeve with a conflicted expression.

Great, this guy is at it again~

Hermione had discovered that Harry, who was quite low-key in the real world, had developed a strange temper ever since arriving in the magical world—he couldn't stand others acting arrogant in front of him.

Not long ago, Ollivander, who boasted of being a descendant of wealthy merchants and a maker of wands from a thousand-year-old establishment, had been successfully lectured by Harry on 'history'.

And now... Professor Snape had become the latest victim to fall under the gun of 'science'.

"Granger... where did you get all this knowledge?" Snape, who had been somewhat bewildered by Harry's performance, asked with a dazed look in his eyes.

"My parents taught me. They are both doctors."

Harry's off-the-cuff fabrication made Hermione, standing beside him, roll her eyes.

If her mom and dad really understood this messy 'science', she, Hermione Granger, would be willing to drop out of school on the spot!

And at this moment, Snape didn't believe Harry's nonsense either.

He had fallen into a mysterious paranoia, stubbornly believing that Harry's astonishing talent in Potions must have been inherited from his mother, Lily...

"Evans... can you tell me, what exactly is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?" After a long silence, Snape asked in a hoarse voice.

"They are both Aconite... uh~" Harry, who was continuing to answer with forced patience, suddenly realized that Snape's questions were starting to take on a different flavor.

Harry was a person very good at observing details. From just a moment ago, Snape's tone, his expression, and most importantly, the way he addressed him, had all undergone subtle or obvious changes.

So, the true meaning of that last question should be...

"Answer the final question, Evans... if I were to add Powdered Root of Asphodel to an Infusion of Wormwood, what would I get?"

Snape stared blankly into Harry's eyes, not even willing to blink.

And after Harry figured out the true intent behind these questions, his expression gradually became conflicted.

Snape... so this guy is actually a sentimental, middle-aged romantic.

Harry was not unfamiliar with Snape at all; after all, when he was three months old, he had witnessed Snape holding his mother Lily's corpse and wailing in agony.

Although Harry's English wasn't as good back then as it is now, based on Snape's behavior at the time, even just by looking, one could tell that this guy definitely had inappropriate feelings for his mother.

So just now, Snape was clearly possessed by his romantic side, subconsciously mistaking Harry for the deceased Lily and starting to play with the language of flowers.

The British placed far more importance on the language of flowers than the people of Harry's previous life in the Great Celestial Empire. Coincidentally, Mrs. Granger was also someone who loved tending to flowers, and Harry had learned a bit about it to please her.

The floral language of the Aconite plant was complex. Snape had specifically chosen the names Monkshood and Wolfsbane, indicating that he wanted to refer to different people and different emotions.

The former was a remembrance and tribute to Harry's mother, Lily Evans; the latter was a hatred for his own pessimism, misanthropy, and suspicion.

And his final question was a subconscious confession—or rather, an act of repentance—after mistaking Harry for the late Lily!

Asphodel belongs to the lily family, and a lily is, in fact, Lily. It represents a love that transcends life and death and must be remembered. The meaning of Wormwood is the regret of absence, as well as bitter sorrow.

Therefore, the answer to the final question was not the Draught of Living Death, but...

My remorse and regret will follow you to the grave!

Thinking of how Snape had just addressed him as 'Evans', Harry suddenly felt goosebumps all over his body.

Does this guy really think he can't tell?

Confessing to someone's mother right in front of her son...

However, after figuring all this out, Harry's expression gradually turned somber.

"That would only result in a portion of regret, Professor... a regret that can never be conveyed to the departed!" After a long silence, Harry gritted his teeth and gave an answer so realistic it was heartless!

He turned his head toward Hermione, unwilling to continue locking eyes with Snape: "Also... stop calling me by my middle name!!"

"You?!" Snape's body swayed slightly. The next second, his eyes returned to their usual cold indifference.

"Class dismissed!!"

He took one deep look at Harry, left behind a sharp, almost shrill roar, and turned to sweep away...

(p.s. In the original HP English text, the goat Snape mentioned is indeed a 'goat', which is a domestic goat. But in reality, the animal from which a Bezoar is taken should be an ibex. Also, the initial translation of Bezoar as 'niuhuang' (ox gallstone) was technically correct, but niuhuang should be a gallstone from a cow, not a stomach stone. So, to get niuhuang, it is best to look in the cow's gallbladder rather than its stomach. That is all~)

Chapter 43 Gringotts Was Infiltrated Ahead of Time

On the weekend of the first week of school, Harry was invited to bring Hermione to Hagrid's hut.

Hagrid had been concerned about how Harry was faring this week, and Harry happened to have something he needed from Hagrid, so they hit it off immediately.

Naturally, Harry had also brought a surprise meal for Hagrid.

"Delicious! This 'hot pot' thing is absolutely amazing, though those two sticks are just too hard to use. It's much more satisfying to just use a spoon~"

Hagrid held an oversized spoon, scooped a generous amount of food into his bowl in one go, and began slurping it down along with the broth.

Faced with such table manners, Harry could only chuckle to himself on the side.

Like Filch, Hagrid couldn't use chopsticks at all. He simply held the bowl in one hand and used the spoon in the other to scoop up the food and broth together, effectively turning a perfectly good hot pot into a bowl of spicy soup.

However, compared to Filch, whose pronunciation of Chinese terms had remained stagnant, Hagrid at least showed some improvement.

"By the way... Harry, do you really intend to keep living with Filch?" Even while gorging himself, Hagrid didn't forget to show concern for Harry. "Filch isn't a man with a good temper; I hope he hasn't been giving you too much trouble~"

"It's alright," Harry said with a reassuring smile. "Mr. Filch is just a bit serious, but he's actually a very good person. His pet, Mrs. Norris, is also quite friendly. We get along very well."

"Eh, if you think it's fine, then it's fine." Hagrid shrugged noncommittally.

Whether Filch was a good person or not, Hagrid didn't want to comment too much, but in his eyes, Mrs. Norris was definitely a cat with a malicious heart!

Every time he entered the castle, that bug-eyed cat would stare at him from behind as if he were a thief; it was absolutely infuriating!

Seeing the corner of Hagrid's mouth twitch inadvertently, Harry just smiled and didn't say anything more.

One must know how to handle interpersonal relationships with tact. Harry only needed to ensure Hagrid wouldn't worry too much about him; he didn't need to force the idea that "Filch is a good person" onto him.

Besides, when it came to Filch, Harry was currently feeling more frustrated than anything else.

After a week of shadow-boxing since the start of school, Harry had to admit that Dumbledore was indeed a cut above.

On the day of the Sorting Ceremony, Harry had already made up his mind: if the old man really tried to lock him up in some dungeon, he would immediately seize the chance to cause trouble, unleash an Obscurus, and tear down the school—nobody would have a peaceful time.

But Dumbledore had dumped him on Filch—a caretaker who seemed fierce and annoying but was actually a member of a vulnerable group—leaving Harry with a belly full of fire and nowhere to vent it.

And when Harry tried to stir up trouble the next day, contemplating high-energy operations like tearing down buildings, setting fires, or blowing up the school, Peeves happened to show up to pick a fight at the most inconvenient time.

Through Peeves' actions and Professor McGonagall's attitude, Harry successfully grasped the equation: "Damaging school property = Filch suffering and working harder." Consequently, all his wild ideas went down the drain.

He was effectively checkmated.

One must stick to their principles in life, so Harry would never bully classmates like Malfoy did, and he didn't want to cause Filch extra work because of himself... not to mention that even if he did blow up the school, it wasn't certain Dumbledore would expel him.

Of course, it was even more impossible for Harry to sneak into an owlery to catch an owl and make soup out of it.

After all, as a foodie from the Middle Kingdom, there are things one eats and things one doesn't—but game and protected animals are strictly off-limits~

In short, Harry reckoned that Dumbledore had seen through his character from the very beginning, which was why he used Filch and Peeves to set traps for him one after another!

That wily old fox knew Harry would never care about Hogwarts' school rules, so he utilized Harry's own principles to successfully limit his mischief to a controllable range.

Within this range, the only thing Harry could do was go and trouble that thorn in his side, Malfoy... but even Malfoy had been acting like a coward lately~

No... he had to find a way to pull off something big; he couldn't just stay caged up by the old man like this!

But before that, there was some gratitude to be expressed.

"Hagrid, can I chop some wood near your hut? I have some handicraft work to do." After the three of them finished their meal, Harry made a strange request to Hagrid.

"Chop wood... for handicrafts? Well, if you insist, I suppose I can agree to that. Who could say no to Harry's request?" Hagrid nodded with a simple, honest smile. "But that kind of heavy work is tiring, so I'll go do it."

After putting on his coat, Hagrid took his wood-cutting saw, an axe, and his umbrella, and went out to prepare the wood for Harry.

"What do you want wood for? Don't tell me it's another one of your twisted ideas?" After Hagrid left, Hermione asked suspiciously.

"Don't worry, this is definitely a good thing~" Harry explained with a grin. "I'm going to make something useful for our Head of House. When the time comes... hmm? What's this? The Daily Prophet?"

Looking down inadvertently, Harry found a clipped news snippet from the Daily Prophet under Hagrid's teapot.

'Report on the Gringotts Break-in: According to the latest exclusive news from our reporter Rita Skeeter, at noon on July 31st, Gringotts suffered an illegal intrusion. The intruder opened a certain vault and escaped. However, Gringotts has suppressed the matter entirely and has not publicly announced any theft. It is unclear whether this incident was the work of an unknown dark wizard as rumored, or if it was an inside job by Gringotts staff...'

Harry was very concerned about this report because if the content was true, it meant that on July 31st, when the three of them arrived at Gringotts, the place had just been robbed!

So, the vault that was broken into was...

Thinking of this, Harry couldn't help but recall the strangely flattened cloth bag Hagrid had retrieved earlier.

Assuming the Gringotts theft was indeed Vault 713, did that mean the intruder had gotten there first and swapped the contents of the vault?

But if that were the case, why hadn't Hagrid raised any questions on the spot?

Or perhaps, Hagrid didn't know what was in the bag at all; he was just sent to retrieve it?

So, is the Sorcerer's Stone currently in Dumbledore's hands as in the original story, or... has it already been obtained by Voldemort?

Suddenly, Harry felt the scar on his forehead begin to throb faintly...

"Harry, I've brought back the wood you wanted!" At that moment, Hagrid's voice came from outside, pulling Harry back to reality.

"Alright, I'm going out to work." Harry set down the clipping, composed himself, and called for Hermione to head outside together.

"So... what exactly are you planning to make?" Looking at the pile of wood of various lengths stacked outside, Hermione remained completely bewildered.

Harry said this was something Professor Flitwick could use, but Hermione couldn't imagine what a professor would need.

"It's a secret. You'll know once it's finished~"

At this moment, a smile known as "indescribable" was hanging on Harry's face.

Chapter 44 Flying Class Can Be Utilized

When the weekend passed and Charms Class resumed, the adorable Professor Flitwick had only just entered the classroom when he was immediately stunned by the scene before him.

The old books that had originally been used to prop up his feet beneath the lectern had been moved aside, replaced by a platform that was clearly a head taller.

"This... this is simply incredible! Oh, Merlin above, who on earth was kind enough to do this for me?!"

Professor Flitwick excitedly circled the lectern, examining it carefully, afraid to miss a single detail.

This suddenly appeared wooden platform covered almost the entire dais outside of the lectern, and its edges were fashioned into steps, making it very convenient to get on and off from any side.

Near the lectern, a small chair of the perfect height had been specially placed, and it was thoughtfully covered with a soft cushion made of animal hide, which would surely be quite comfortable to sit on.

The entire platform had been painted a color similar to the dais inside the classroom, so it did not look out of place at all.

Professor Flitwick curiously stepped up to try it out and discovered that the height was exactly the same as when he had previously stood on books, yet his range of movement had expanded several times over, causing him to beam until the wrinkles on his face bloomed.

'Wishing you a pleasant experience, compliments of Harry, Hermione, and Hagrid~'

On the back of the chair, Professor Flitwick discovered this small line of text and looked toward Harry with pleasant surprise.

However, Harry only nodded with a smile, not saying anything to claim credit.

This set of raised platform and chair was the "handiwork" he had crafted at Hagrid's place, which had taken up almost the entire weekend for the three of them.

Harry wanted to use this method to thank Professor Flitwick for the kindness and care he had shown him previously.