Honestly.
For Devero,
the class he hated most was Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Because Quirrell always made the classroom reek of garlic.
The second was undoubtedly Potions.
Although his Potions skills far surpassed those of his peers,
under normal circumstances,
he should have loved the class.
After all, it was a chance to show off in front of everyone.
And if he eventually unlocked the [Heir of Slytherin] entry,
that should count among his achievements too.
Maybe it would even improve his abilities.
But Snape gave him no chance to show what he could do.
In fact, in class, he treated Devero like he wasn't even there.
His eyes were fixed only on...
"Potter! If I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood, what would I get?"
That's right.
It was Friday, the end of Devero's first week at Hogwarts.
The first class that morning was Potions.
And the scene before him was the classic three-question Potions routine.
Watching Hermione stretch her hand as high as it would go,
Devero couldn't help giving a wry smile and shaking his head.
This wasn't the time to interrupt their little two-person show.
Neville, sitting beside him, had clearly been scared witless by Snape's severity.
He was desperately trying to burrow under the table,
afraid that Snape would call on him next.
Considering what he might face in a moment,
Devero had taken the initiative to sit with him this time.
And Devero's reputation over the past few days
meant that a Slytherin sitting with a Gryffindor didn't seem particularly strange.
No Slytherin would criticize Devero for it.
What surprised Devero was
that Malfoy didn't seem interested in the spectacle of Harry being put on trial.
He sat in a corner of the classroom with his two sidekicks,
all three of them looking rather vacant.
Hardly anyone sat near him,
whether they were Slytherins or Gryffindors.
Yesterday's Flying Class had probably hit him hard.
And quite a few older Slytherins had started holding it against him, too.
After all, they'd walked out first thing that morning,
only to discover that the Slytherin House Point Hourglass had been emptied!
No one could stomach that.
The day before, in the common room,
some people had already started lamenting that Slytherin would probably miss out on the House Cup for the first time in seven years!
But as a Transmigrator,
Devero already knew that Dumbledore had awarded the House Cup to Gryffindor seven years in advance.
So he didn't feel like fighting it.
And he didn't share the resentment everyone else felt toward Malfoy.
He just hoped Malfoy would keep quiet.
Now Malfoy was doing exactly what Devero had hoped.
Judging by that gloomy expression,
he'd probably taken quite a blow.
Meanwhile, Snape's harassment continued.
"Tsk, tsk... It seems fame isn't everything."
Snape walked right past Hermione, whose hand was practically reaching the ceiling.
His eyes were fixed on Harry's face.
"Let's try again. Potter, if I asked you to find me a Bezoar, where would you look?"
"I don't know, Professor."
"I imagine you haven't opened a single book since the start of term, have you, Potter?"
A string of answers then spilled from Snape's mouth.
He suddenly swept his gaze across all the students watching.
Everyone who met his eyes,
except Devero,
shrank back at once.
"Understand? Why aren't you writing all this down?!"
The classic three questions had the whole class too scared to make a sound.
Quills began to scratch across parchment.
Devero propped his chin on his hand and watched the scene, bored.
Honestly,
this was all the most basic knowledge.
Devero had mastered it completely
six months earlier, before he awakened his system.
Now that he had the [Potion Spirit] entry,
it was even less of a challenge.
Unfortunately, whenever Snape taught a class,
his eyes were only on Potter.
After docking points from Harry for talking back,
Potions finally reached the part Devero had been looking forward to most.
He'd forgotten about the set of Potions equipment Snape had given him earlier.
It had stayed in Eld's stomach the whole time.
When Devero tried to take it out two days ago,
he found it covered in some unknown slime.
So he'd washed it all clean,
and it was still drying.
That had left him without Potions for a whole week.
At last, he could get back to brewing!
Snape split them into pairs
and instructed them to mix a simple potion for treating scabies.
Devero naturally paired up with Neville, who was sitting beside him.
Honestly,
Neville was rather clumsy.
Even with Devero helping,
he nearly added the ingredients in the wrong order.
Of course,
that was partly because Snape kept pacing behind him.
With Devero looking out for him,
the two of them were practically the only students in the class who hadn't been scolded by Snape.
Even Malfoy, who Snape favored in the original story,
got a quiet reprimand for spacing out.
Even with Neville making things more difficult for him,
Devero relied on his extraordinary instinct for Potions
and a touch of mysterious good fortune
to finish brewing this simple potion using only two-thirds of the ingredients.
The others were still weighing dried nettles.
The students in front and behind him turned around,
staring in amazement at the clear green potion steaming in the cauldron before Devero.
"Oh my god! It hasn't even been three minutes! Alexander's already finished?"
"No way! I haven't even crushed my snake fangs, and he's done brewing? Is he really in the same year as me?"
"I bet Devero comes from a Pure-blood family in France! He must've had the finest magical education since he was little!"
"Exactly! And he's so gentle and polite, too. He must be from a noble family!"
Those were the Slytherins' comments.
Hearing them,
Devero couldn't help finding it a little funny.
What noble family?
He'd just had nine years of compulsory education.
He was just a normal person who didn't start insulting people the moment they met.
And that made him a noble?
Though it was true that he'd received excellent Potions education from a young age.
After all, Snape himself had taught him.
The process had just been a little gruesome.
"Enough. We don't need any unnecessary noise."
Snape's low voice, barely louder than a whisper
yet still clear to everyone, rang out again.
"Or do you think you've already mastered this potion completely?"
Snape's snake-like eyes swept over the students who'd been chattering moments earlier.
The students he looked at didn't dare breathe.
As he spoke,
Snape walked over to Devero and Neville's table.
He looked at the cauldron in front of Devero,
at the clear potion inside, which seemed to contain no impurities at all.
Snape stood there without moving.
His eyes remained fixed on the potion.
Devero knew that look very well.
It was Snape's expression when he was looking for a reason to criticize someone.
He was desperately searching for a flaw in Devero's potion.
But obviously,
Devero wasn't going to mess up such an incredibly simple potion.
Tsk!
A tiny click of Snape's tongue was the only sound.
The corner of Devero's mouth curled upward.
"Very standard. One might even call it perfect, Mr. Alexander. For your performance, Slytherin earns five points."
With that,
Snape turned away, his face dark, and started back toward the lectern.
Just then,
Devero suddenly stood up.
"Professor Snape, you awarded too few points."
Before you continue