The Potions classroom was as dimly lit as ever, the air thick with the lingering scent of ingredients. Various glass jars filled the brown wooden shelves, while the supply cabinet at the back looked even more dilapidated than before, with several additional charred black marks as though something had exploded against it.
Wade walked to his familiar seat and sat down, taking out his Potions textbook from his schoolbag. Michael sat beside him.
"By the way, you haven't come to class at all this term, so there probably aren't any notes in your textbook, right? Want to borrow mine first?"
As Michael spoke, he leaned over for a look and saw dense little notes written along the edges of the pages.
He fell silent for a moment, then could not help asking, "Did you happen to bring a Potions teacher with you when you went out?"
"How could I?" Wade said. "I wrote these back in my third year. I'm just reviewing them now."
Unlike Defense Against the Dark Arts, the Potions Professor had not changed for many years. The textbooks and teaching procedures were all very fixed. Wade had bought the complete set of textbooks for all seven years long ago and had taught himself and practiced every Potion.
To him, a subject where every step was explained so clearly, even down to the second, was simpler than Charms Class, where he had his own built-in advantage. It was practically the same as doing chemistry experiments in his previous life.
But after Wade said that, Michael's body stiffened almost imperceptibly. He even picked up his book and silently moved to the adjacent table.
Wade: "..."
Michael slowly turned his head and said in a resentful tone, "Oh, it seems a tragic barrier of knowledge has arisen between us. Messenger