Mutated Billywig Appears!

The perpetual chill on Snape's face faded slightly, and a flicker of admiration actually appeared in his eyes.

He did not stop the other young wizards from talking. The previously silent classroom was suddenly filled with their voices.

"Lyon, that burst of blue light from the potion you just brewed—that was an epic-grade potion!"

"Prefect Lyon, can you teach us how to brew a potion like that?"

"An epic-grade potion! And it even surpassed the textbook directly—this is a groundbreaking achievement!"

Lyon was becoming irritated by the noise around him and raised a hand in a wave.

In an instant, the entire classroom fell silent enough to hear a pin drop.

This was the tacit understanding the little Slytherin snakes had developed in just one day.

Snape's mouth twitched at the sight. Seeing how obediently the Slytherin snakes listened to Lyon, he felt as though something had left him.

It was as if Slytherin now bore the Shelby name.

He even had the strange feeling that someone had stolen his cabbage.

No, no. I'm Severus. How could I possibly feel this way?

Snape's thoughts drifted before he came back to himself, coughed twice, and looked at the cauldron in front of Lyon.

"Mr. Lyon, the potion you brewed has reached epic grade. You probably do not know how potion quality is classified, do you?" Snape asked when he saw Lyon's puzzled expression.

"Professor, I truly don't. The potion books I've read were all about pharmacology and potion-brewing methods."

"Let me explain it briefly. Potion quality is divided into five grades: ordinary, fine, rare, epic, and legendary. Every jump in quality is immense."

"Reaching textbook standards is equivalent to the fine grade. Anything rare or above can generally only be achieved by experienced old wizards."

A glint flashed through Lyon's eyes. "What are the characteristics of the rare, epic, and legendary grades?"

Snape's gaze remained calm as he looked at the students who had stood up around them. "Sit down."

He then stood at the lectern and used his wand to write line after line on the blackboard. "When a potion reaches the rare grade, sparks of light will appear within the potion itself. That is how it can be identified."

"Potions of this grade are more effective and cannot be mass-produced. Therefore, starting from the rare grade, a potion's value rises geometrically."

"When a potion reaches epic grade, it will emit potion light like Mr. Shelby's did just now. Such potions are often the finest on the market and exceptionally effective. Even this most ordinary rash remedy could sell for over a hundred Galleons."

Everyone sucked in a breath. A hundred Galleons? A rash remedy could actually sell for a hundred Galleons?!

"Professor, what about legendary-grade potions?"

At that moment, Ron stared at Snape with sparkling eyes, clearly drawn in by the enormous number of Galleons.

"Mr. Weasley, dispose of that pot of poison in front of you—the one I cannot even name—before asking that question!"

"After this class, I want you to personally taste the stew you brewed. Also, Gryffindor loses five points!"

Gryffindor was losing big points as usual!

Only after dealing with Ron did Snape begin explaining.

"Legendary-grade potions are generally brewed by the foremost potion masters in Wizarding Society. Such potions can no longer be measured in money."

"There is actually a level above that, but it already falls within the realm of alchemy. The famous Nicolas Flamel once brewed that kind of potion."

After Snape finished, Lyon gained a basic understanding of potion-making.

"Because of Mr. Shelby's potion just now, Slytherin receives fifty points!"

"Now then, the rest of you may continue brewing. And you, Potter—by the end of this class, you must drink the potion you brewed."

"Oh! Professor, those were brewed by Ron! I absolutely cannot drink that sludge!"

"Talking back to a professor. Gryffindor loses five points!"

Before long, under Ron and Harry's resentful gazes, everyone else in the classroom began brewing their potions.

Lyon personally guided Hermione as she brewed the potion once more.

With Lyon's demonstration, the other Slytherin students miraculously had no failures at all. Of course, their performance in this class was inseparable from Lyon having them come to the classroom early to study.

All the Slytherin students passed!

Even Neville brewed a pot of potion exactly like the one in the textbook, earning Slytherin another five points.

Gryffindor's side was not too bad either. Of course, aside from Ron and Harry, who were affected by their state of mind and brewed another pot of sludge.

In the blink of an eye, class was over. Lyon felt that one of Hogwarts's most humane features was its generous break times.

The afternoon class was Herbology. Lyon was not particularly interested in Herbology; he could not understand why noble wizards had to grow herbs like gardeners.

However, he had happened to run into Hagrid recently. Hagrid had been exceptionally warm toward him and even invited him to visit his hut. Lyon agreed to go sometime soon.

When he returned to the dormitory that evening and had just shut the door, Lyon eagerly took out the Mutated Billywig egg from the system.

The moment it appeared, the dim yellow light in the dormitory darkened. A pitch-black phantom on the table gradually solidified into a black egg the size of a human head.

Golden patterns flowed across the eggshell. The moment his gaze touched them, the patterns seemed to possess some kind of magic that firmly drew in Lyon's eyes.

A flash of red passed through Lyon's eyes, and he inexplicably felt a spiritual connection with the egg.

The Billywig had never been mentioned in the original novel. This creature appeared in the film from the same series, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.

Covered in blue-green patterns and spikes, it resembled a bat. When it was not flying, it folded up its spiked wings and curled itself inside an egg sac.

The Billywig egg rewarded by the system had the prefix "Mutated." Lyon did not know whether it would resemble the Billywig he remembered.

But why did the system insist on giving him so many eggs?

As the godfather of the Razor Gang, was he supposed to hatch eggs every day?

"Crack, crack, crack..."

A faint sound of something breaking suddenly appeared in the silent dormitory.

Lyon frowned and fixed his gaze on the Billywig egg before him.

Only upon closer inspection did he discover that the egg was slowly cracking.

The opening was tiny, but it was indeed widening.

Could the Billywig inside be pecking its way out?

It probably was.

At this rate, Lyon estimated that the Billywig would emerge soon.

The things the system had rewarded before were all good. Going by its usual style, this Billywig probably would not be bad either.

Lyon waited patiently as time slowly passed.

Finally, at a certain moment, the surrounding lights suddenly began to dim.

Strands of black mist gradually seeped from the cracks in the eggshell. Lyon narrowed his eyes and gripped his wand.

He was not sure whether this Billywig would attack him. After all, the system had never guaranteed that hatched creatures would obey his commands.

The sound of the eggshell cracking continued. Then, at a certain moment, a much louder cracking sound suddenly rang out, followed by the thud of something heavy hitting the floor.

In the next instant, the black mist reached its peak density, and a massive surge of it instantly swallowed all the surrounding light!

Something was wrong.

A sense of facing a formidable enemy rose within Lyon, and he immediately raised his wand.