The next day, John headed to the Potions Classroom.
As soon as he sat down, the space around him emptied.
When the Gryffindors arrived, they saw John sitting conspicuously alone.
Hermione and Neville both gave him worried looks. John shrugged and gave them a reassuring glance.
Class began.
Snape was like a greasy bat on legs, striding so briskly that his robes billowed as though he had a blower attached.
"There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class."
Stopping beside the lectern, Snape folded his arms and swept the students with a piercing gaze.
Then he launched into his opening speech.
"I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses."
"I will teach you how to bottle fame and brew glory."
"Even how to live forever..."
John curled his lip at those words. If Snape could teach that, would Voldemort have bothered making Horcruxes?
Then his gaze went unfocused as he summoned his panel. His magic had increased a little through exercise.
[Magic: Level 1 (20/100)] [Spells: Alohomora (Level 3)] [Skills: Short Weapon Mastery (Level 7), Polearm Mastery (Level 6), Heavy Weapon Mastery (Level 3), Firearm Mastery (Level 1)] [Blessings: Strengthen the Body, Rapid Attack, Precision]
By his calculations, a full day of training could earn him five points of magic.
He wondered whether he could get some dumbbells or something to keep in his room.
While he was distracted, Snape turned his gaze toward John as he spoke, making no effort to hide his disgust.
His voice dripping with mockery, he said, "Perhaps some of you arrived at Hogwarts with a certain reputation already, and a little useful power, leaving you arrogant enough not to pay attention in my class!"
John snapped out of his thoughts. Seeing Malfoy's gloating expression beside him, he picked up the quill on his desk without expression.
That single movement wiped the smile off Malfoy's face.
Though Snape detested John, someone he detested even more was present.
Without hesitation, he turned his sights on the Chosen One, Harry Potter.
"Mr. Potter."
"Tell me, what would happen if I added asphodel root powder to an infusion of wormwood?"
Until recently, Harry Potter had been a child living with a Muggle family. Naturally, he had no idea, and he shook his head innocently.
But Snape was determined to question him, completely ignoring Hermione's hand stretched high into the air nearby.
He pressed on aggressively. "Mr. Potter, if I wanted a bezoar, would you know where to find one?"
"I don't know, sir."
"What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
"I don't know."
With every question and answer, anyone could tell that Snape had no fondness for the Chosen One.
Watching the scene, John couldn't help laughing.
This was an iconic scene, after all.
That laugh redirected Snape's hostility once again.
"Mr. Wick, perhaps you could tell Mr. Potter the answers to those questions." Snape turned toward John.
John looked bewildered. How did I get a part in this?
[Ding! Story quest triggered: answer Professor Snape's questions to receive the Blessing: Top Student] [Top Student: increases learning efficiency for two hours each day]
Even this could trigger a quest?
John's eyes went unfocused for a moment, but he quickly recovered and carefully recalled this scene.
As luck would have it, he had forgotten plenty of things, but he still remembered Snape's famous three questions.
He stood up and replied without either meekness or arrogance, "Adding asphodel root powder to an infusion of wormwood produces the Draught of Living Death."
"You can find a bezoar in a goat's stomach."
"There is no difference between monkshood and wolfsbane. They are the same plant."
Having confidently answered all three questions, John gave a restrained smile.
For a moment, the entire classroom fell silent.
Malfoy, who had wanted to see John embarrass himself, wore a frozen smile. Snape was somewhat surprised, but mostly disgusted that his plan had failed.
"Sit down. Five points to Slytherin, and five points from Gryffindor," he said coldly.
Angry or not, he still had to award Slytherin its points and deduct Gryffindor's.
John shrugged and sat down, while a notification in his mind told him he had gained the Top Student Blessing.
Snape's unvented fury spilled over onto the other students. Malfoy, who had been gloating a moment earlier, was frightened into being as docile as a little foal.
Meanwhile, Harry, Ron, and the other young lions looked at John as though he were a hero.
After Potions Class, the Slytherins left in groups.
John looked solitary amid the crowd.
Lunch in the Great Hall.
Looking at the so-called British delicacies, John couldn't help sighing. Even after eating them for so many years, he still occasionally found himself missing Chinese food.
Hermione came over to John. Watching him torment an unpeeled potato with his fork, she asked worriedly, "John, are you all right?"
Hermione was very concerned about John's situation in Slytherin, but she had clearly underestimated him.
John was puzzling over why anyone would eat potato skins when he heard her question and replied casually, "Of course. Didn't you see how scared they all are of me?"
Still, to reassure Hermione, John decided to bury the hatchet with Malfoy.
Spotting Malfoy passing by, John reached out to stop him.
"Malfoy."
Malfoy stopped and watched John approach warily, instinctively taking a step back.
Feeling that he had embarrassed himself, he snapped in anger, "Wick, what do you think you're doing, you-"
"Say it, and I'll send you straight back to the Hospital Wing." John wore a friendly smile, but it made Malfoy's hair stand on end.
John patted his shoulder and reassured him, "Relax. I'm not some devil, after all. We're classmates, and we're bound to keep running into each other. I won't go too far."
He also smiled at the two lackeys beside Malfoy, making Crabbe and Goyle shudder and nod hastily.
"See? Crabbe and Goyle agree. So let's make up."
Malfoy turned toward his two lackeys and said angrily, "You two idiots."
Looking at John's outstretched hand, he stubbornly said, "I refuse to be friends with you. And don't think you can act so smug just because you beat me with a sneak attack. Wizards should settle things with magic, not fists!"
John withdrew his hand indifferently. Hearing that, he promptly replied, "All right, then. Let's find somewhere to have a fair fight. Don't nobles like duels? I'll oblige you."
That sent Malfoy into a panic. His neck still hurt.
He immediately fell silent, lowered his head as though he hadn't heard, and slunk away.
John sat back down and told the stunned Hermione, "See? No problems at all."
Hermione nodded blankly. He called that no problems?
But a top student's mind worked in unusual ways, and she began discussing Potions with John.
John's head throbbed as he listened. He wolfed down his food in a few bites, left the unpeeled potato behind, and slunk away too.
After all, he only knew those three answers. He hadn't the faintest idea about anything else.
A flock of owls flew into the Great Hall, and Neville received a Remembrall.
There was one very nice thing about Hogwarts: short classes, long breaks, and both Saturday and Sunday off.
Using the weekend to exercise, John ran along the Black Lake with a stone the size of a human head strapped to his back.
"It feels so good to actually see my magic increasing."
Watching his stats rise gave John the feeling that he was playing a game.
He hadn't forgotten the dangers of Harry Potter's world. School life wouldn't stay peaceful for long.
He had already seen Professor Quirrell in class that week and remembered that choking stench. It certainly left an impression.
John had watched the films in his previous life, but his knowledge of the original books was patchy.
He had forgotten most of the other plot details. One of the few things he remembered was that Voldemort was on Quirrell's head.
He hadn't recognized him at the Leaky Cauldron, but he did this time.
He just couldn't fathom how the dreaded Dark Lord could endure that stench.
He couldn't remember the specifics clearly, only that Voldemort eventually took over Quirrell's body and Harry defeated him.
John thought, I can't ignore this danger. I need to get stronger as soon as possible.
Reality wasn't a novel. Even the slightest danger could prove fatal.
He tossed the stone aside and glanced at his dirty clothes, wondering where he could get some weighted training equipment.
The second week of term.
The wizarding world's second truly memorable class arrived.
Flying class.
Before you continue