Kane, No More Smirking

Harry and Ron naturally understood what this meant.

Just imagining Kane tossing all kinds of potion ingredients into the cauldron during Potions class, then suddenly whipping up a pot of meatballs...

"Harry, let's be partners later."

"Ron, let's be partners later."

Kane watched as Harry and Ron silently kicked him out of their little team, and the corner of his mouth twitched uncontrollably.

"Come on, it's just Potions. Do you have to be like this? Do you love your brother, or do you love your grades?"

Ron stepped forward. He still had to explain things clearly to Kane. "If you work with either one of us, only one person can escape alive. But if we let you loose to plague someone else, both of us can escape alive."

"We can't pass up a deal where two is greater than one."

"I see. Should I applaud you or something? Emmm, like, Ron, your math is really amazing!" Kane clapped with a distinctly unkind smile.

"Keep it down, keep it down. Although my mum did ask me to tutor my little sister in math, I didn't agree." Ron smugly waved a hand, as though Kane had genuinely been praising him.

Potions was the first class of the afternoon. After lunch, it was quickly time for class, and the three of them arrived at the Potions classroom early.

With Professor Quirrell as a cautionary example, even though Kane vouched for him, the fact that Snape had no strange smell on him still failed to persuade Harry and Ron. In the end, the three found seats in the middle of the classroom and split across two tables.

Kane sat alone at one table, while Harry and Ron shared another. As time passed, more and more young wizards entered, including Draco Malfoy. Seeing Kane sitting alone, he instinctively felt this was a good opportunity to get closer to Kane.

However, someone else beat him to it.

Draco Malfoy's little face immediately fell, but then he remembered what his father and the older students had said about how much Professor Snape hated Gryffindor...

At that thought, he decided it was best to avoid the sharp edge.

"Oh, Hermione? Where are your friends?" Kane asked in surprise as he looked at Hermione, who had sat down beside him.

"We're temporarily having an angry cold war. They think I run off to the library whenever I have free time and neglect them. It's kind of ridiculous. They just need some time to calm down." Hermione spoke indignantly, though her eyes remained fixed on the Potions textbook on the desk. Clearly, she was previewing the material.

"Ahem, I hope your friendship returns to normal soon." Kane even winked after saying that, because he saw Harry and Ron beside him making faces at him.

They were obviously a little curious about Hermione, the victim. For example, if meatballs appeared in the cauldron Hermione shared with Kane later, how were they supposed to hold back their laughter?

Before they could think any further, a sharp whooshing sound came from outside the door.

Snape strode in with his billowing cloak. He eventually reached the lectern, elegantly wrapped the cloak around himself, and looked down at the young wizards from above.

"Before we begin class officially, I need to know whether you all understand what you came here to do. Of course, it doesn't matter if you don't. I can tell you—this once only."

"Reproduce every one of my movements perfectly, without the slightest mistake. That is all I require of you. After all, I don't expect your not necessarily intelligent brains to understand the precise art of potion-making, so I have only one request: do not create any messes in my classroom."

That opening, completely different from the other professors', instantly made Kane realize that Snape was a real professor.

It was like how, when most people were in school, every grade had an advanced class. The homeroom teacher of that class was usually the proudest, most self-centered, most cutting and demanding person around, and would indiscriminately crush ordinary children from other classes, along with their poor homeroom teachers and subject teachers, among others.

That was roughly the image Snape had in Kane's eyes. That unusual opening instantly told him that this professor was very cold.

So...

This was the first class. This professor wouldn't be insane enough to make them do practical work right away, would he? Just like Charms was scheduled before Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Herbology should also have been scheduled before Potions. Otherwise, if they couldn't even recognize herbs, how were they supposed to brew potions?

That had to be it. This class would most likely just cover the textbook, perhaps with a few questions thrown in.

Just as Kane had expected, Snape asked that question.

"If I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood, what would I obtain? I need a student to answer this question... Ah, the famous Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter. Please stand and answer." Snape looked at Harry darkly.

"I don't know, Professor."

Charms and Transfiguration were like writing essays. Even if you didn't know how, you could still force something out. But Potions was like math—if you didn't know, you didn't know. No matter how hard you squeezed your brain, all you could write was the word 'solution.'

"I'm disappointed in you, Mr. Potter. I thought your talent would at least match your fame." Snape shook his head and looked at Harry with an expression of disappointment.

In an instant, a cheerful atmosphere filled the entire classroom.

"Professor, may I sit down now?" Harry asked, his face red.

"Of course—no! The next question: how would you find a bezoar?"

"I don't know, Professor." Harry slowly lowered his head.

"I'm glad that if someone could become your brain in their next life, they must have done an enormous good deed in their previous life, because they certainly wouldn't have to work very hard." Snape slowly shook his head.

Kane discreetly focused his gaze on Snape. What terrifying offensive power. He couldn't tell whether Professor Snape was simply that rude, or whether he had some personal grudge against Harry.

"What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"I still don't know." Harry had now developed a give-up-and-let-it-burn attitude, like a dead pig that wasn't afraid of boiling water. So what if he lost points and got scolded? Take the points! Scold away!

Whatever!

Kane more or less understood now. Snape was probably really just targeting Harry. Since he had figured that out, there was naturally no point in his current deskmate Hermione continuing to hold up her hand.

As long as Snape kept tormenting Harry for the rest of the hour, he could get through this class safely.

Harry, don't blame me for being disloyal. You and Ron started this first!

Watching Harry stand there with his face alternating between pale and red, while Ron stared fixedly at the desk in front of him, Kane couldn't help feeling delighted. His expression turned into a smirk. This was karma!

Snape quickly returned to the lectern and wrote the answers to his three questions on the blackboard. "You don't have photographic memories, and you don't even know how to take notes? Oh, right, I almost forgot. Gryffindor loses fifteen points."

The Gryffindor students did not beat their chests in despair. The pressure in Snape's class was simply too great, and they truly didn't dare act out any further.

Just as Kane finished taking his notes, Snape spoke again. "Take out your cauldrons. For your first lesson, I will guide you through the practical brewing of Acne Potion."

"..."

Kane... was no longer smirking.

[Please click the investment button, everyone. I don't know whether I can still get into the new-book ranking now, but what if?]