The Tsundere Malfoy! Professor, Can This Question Go into Overtime?

In the first few days after starting school, Harry quickly discovered something.

Hogwarts's timetable was nowhere near as difficult to understand as the castle itself.

The staircases moved, the portraits talked, and some doors had to be felt in a different spot before you could find the handle.

On the very first day, Ron nearly led them into an unfamiliar corridor. Fortunately, Hermione called him back in time.

"The classroom is this way."

She held her textbooks in her arms, her tone utterly certain.

Ron looked at her, then at the staircase before him. "Did you study the castle in advance yesterday, too?"

Hermione did not answer and simply turned away. Harry patted Ron on the shoulder and hurried after her.

When it's time to find your way, don't annoy the person doing the navigating.

The lessons, on the other hand, were fascinating.

Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration and Professor Flitwick's Charms both opened Harry's eyes.

Of course, compared with the other young wizards still scratching their heads over a matchstick or a feather, Harry's performance seemed a little too outstanding.

Professor McGonagall had barely finished teaching them how to turn a matchstick into a needle before Harry successfully completed the transformation.

Professor Flitwick had only just finished explaining the Levitation Charm when the feather in front of Harry was already floating steadily in the air.

Naturally, the system's help had been indispensable.

[Transfiguration · Matchstick to Needle: beginner (12/100)]

[Levitation Charm: beginner (18/100)]

[Lumos: proficient (3/500)]

Besides his magical talent, Harry had another advantage the other young wizards lacked.

That was the high emotional intelligence from his previous life, along with his knowledge of the original story's plot.

He knew Professor McGonagall was strict but fair, so he never tried to be clever in her lessons.

He knew Professor Flitwick liked diligent, inquisitive students, so he always managed to ask a few insightful questions at just the right moment.

As for the other professors, he could always find a suitable way to get along with them, too.

Excellent grades, a modest attitude, and a sweet tongue.

Who would not like a student like that?

In just a few days, Harry had successfully won the favor of quite a few professors.

Even young wizards from other houses gradually began referring to him by a new epithet.

"The genius Harry Potter!"

Harry merely smiled modestly at this.

Keep a low profile. A low profile.

He was just an ordinary, unremarkable young wizard who knew the exam answers in advance and came with his own proficiency panel.

Still, watching the proficiency values on his panel gradually rise, Harry felt quite satisfied.

He was another step closer to the nonverbal spellcasting he dreamed of.

Once the day comes when I can cast a spell with a mere lift of my hand... now that's a true magical genius!

But when Friday arrived, a name he knew particularly well appeared on the timetable.

Potions class.

The professor teaching it: Severus Snape.

At breakfast, Ron noticed an extra book in front of Harry.

He swallowed the food in his mouth and leaned over for a look.

"Why have you started reading while eating, too?"

"We have Potions class today."

"I know."

"And Gryffindor and Slytherin are taking it together."

Ron's expression immediately became less cheerful.

"We'll have to see that Malfoy again."

Harry nodded. And they would have to see Snape, too.

He remembered a few of that professor's questions.

But remembering the plot did not mean he could get every ingredient's name right in his answers.

If he stood up only to discover he had mixed up the ingredient names, that would make quite a scene.

So he had made a point of going through his textbook over the past few days and had even asked Hermione for help several times.

Hermione was very pleased about this. At last, someone was willing to take the initiative in discussing schoolwork.

Ron, meanwhile, frowned at the book Harry had open.

"Bezoar?"

"Mm."

"Why do you look for this thing inside a goat's stomach?"

Harry looked up. "You should ask the goat."

Ron paused, then decided to carry on eating his breakfast.

The dungeon classroom was much colder than the rooms upstairs.

A row of glass jars stood along the wall, with things soaking inside that one did not particularly want to examine closely.

Harry and Ron sat down and laid out their textbooks, quills, and parchment.

Hermione sat nearby, while Neville was inspecting his cauldron.

On the other side, the Slytherin students had arrived as well.

Malfoy sat near the front, with Crabbe and Goyle beside her.

Her textbook was laid out neatly, and her cuffs were carefully tucked away. Clearly, she had come prepared.

When she saw Harry enter, she first glanced at the house emblem on his robes.

Then she gave a soft huff.

Harry pretended not to hear. He had more than one person to deal with today.

The classroom door was suddenly pushed open.

A man in black robes walked in.

His complexion was somewhat pale, his nose prominent, and black hair hung beside his face. As his black eyes swept over the classroom, the students who had been chatting quickly fell silent.

Snape walked to the lectern and opened the register. When he reached Harry's name, his pen paused.

"The genius Harry Potter."

Harry looked up.

Snape looked at him, his gaze lingering on that face for a moment.

"It seems this name needs no further introduction from me."

A few quiet laughs sounded around the classroom.

The corner of Malfoy's mouth twitched. Harry sat upright and did not respond to the remark.

Snape did not pursue it either. He closed the register and began introducing Potions class.

He did not raise his voice, yet that slow, clear delivery made everyone afraid to let their attention wander.

This subject required meticulous observation, accurate judgment, and the patience to follow procedures strictly.

Getting a single ingredient wrong could ruin an entire cauldron of potion.

Harry listened attentively. On this point, he very much agreed.

Just then, Snape suddenly looked at him.

"Potter, answer me."

Here it comes.

Harry immediately focused.

"What potion can be brewed by combining infusion of wormwood with asphodel root powder?"

Hermione's hand shot up almost immediately.

Snape did not look at her.

Harry stood.

"The Draught of Living Death, Professor. It's an extremely powerful sleeping potion."

Ron turned his head, his eyes widening slightly.

Malfoy's chin, which she had already begun to lift, paused as well.

Snape looked at Harry without nodding or telling him to sit down.

"If I asked you to find me a bezoar, where would you look?"

"In a goat's stomach." Harry added, "It can counter many poisons, but it isn't effective against all of them."

Hermione slowly lowered her hand. Snape's gaze remained on Harry's face.

"What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"They're different names for the same plant, Professor."

The classroom fell silent.

Ron looked at Harry, already unable to stop the corners of his mouth from rising.

Malfoy, however, frowned slightly.

Potter actually knew all of them?

Of course she knew them too, but Potter should not have answered without even hesitating.

Snape fell silent for a moment, then tapped a finger lightly against the lectern.

"It seems you've opened your book."

Harry was just about to sit down.

"Then, if the concentration of the infusion of wormwood changes, how do you intend to adjust the formula for the Draught of Living Death?"

Harry stopped moving.

...There's more?

Professor, can this question go into overtime?!

He knew the ingredients and the potion's name.

But adjusting the formula according to concentration was well beyond what he had covered in these past few days of preparation.

Beside him, Hermione looked toward the lectern again. Harry thought for a moment, then answered honestly.

"I don't know how yet, Professor."

"You don't intend to venture a guess?"

"No."

Harry glanced at the cauldron on his desk.

"You just said that getting an ingredient wrong could ruin a potion. I think a formula shouldn't be guessed at carelessly either."

There was almost no discernible change at the corner of Snape's mouth.

"Then remember this: being able to recite a few lines does not mean you already know how to brew potions."

"Sit down."

Harry sat back in his chair.

No points gained, but none lost either.

Ron gently nudged his arm under the desk.

"How did you know all of that?"

"Reading."

Ron looked at the textbook on Harry's desk and suddenly felt that he should have flipped through a couple of pages last night, too.

Hermione nodded at Harry as well.

"You can look up that last question in the library later."

"I will."

Harry picked up his quill and wrote the question down on his parchment.

The panel could help him practice, but it would not read all his textbooks for him.

If he wanted to learn magic properly, he still had to understand things for himself.

At the front, Snape had already waved his wand and written the steps for the lesson on the blackboard.

They were going to learn to brew a potion to cure boils.

"Work in pairs. Collect your ingredients first."

As Snape finished speaking, the classroom finally stirred again.

Ron was just about to call to Harry when a voice suddenly came from beside them.

"Potter."

Malfoy had come over at some point.

The girl stood with her arms folded, her long platinum-blond hair falling over her shoulders, her gaze sweeping casually over the parchment in front of Harry.

"So you really did do a little preparation before coming to school."

"I couldn't very well come without reading anything," Harry said with a smile.

"Hmph. Just memorizing books will soon stop being enough." Her gaze swept over the cauldron, and a hint of restrained smugness entered her voice. "Especially in Potions class."

"Oh?" Harry raised his eyebrows. "Sounds like you're very good at potions?"

Malfoy's chin immediately rose a little higher.

"Of course."

"Unlike certain people, our family doesn't need to wait until school starts to begin learning about these things."

"When I was six, I was already learning from my family's potioneer."

"By seven, I could identify most common ingredients. As for the Cure for Boils we're brewing today..."

She deliberately paused.

"I successfully brewed it when I was eight."

With that, the girl lifted the corners of her lips slightly.

Well?

Now you must know how impressive I am, right?

Harry was indeed a little surprised.

"You're that good?"

"Naturally."

The curve of Malfoy's lips grew more pronounced, but even after waiting for ages, she heard nothing further from Harry.

The girl couldn't help frowning.

What was wrong with this guy?

She'd already gone this far. Did he still not know what to do?!

She glanced at the blackboard again.

"If we're working in pairs, getting someone who doesn't know anything would be quite troublesome."

"True." Harry nodded.

"Especially someone who's encountering potions for the first time."

"Good point."

"With someone beside them to offer guidance, they'd certainly make far fewer mistakes."

"Yes, that's what I think too."

Malfoy: "..."

Something seemed to twitch at the girl's temple.

Go on and ask me! Surely you don't expect me to bring it up myself?!

Watching her increasingly impatient expression, Harry finally couldn't help laughing.

He finally understood. After taking such a long, winding detour, this young lady had been waiting for him here all along.

"In that case, Miss Malfoy."

Harry held out his hand with a show of solemnity.

"May I have the honor of inviting you to be my Potions Class partner?"

Malfoy's eyes instantly lit up.

However, she quickly resumed her haughty demeanor.

"Hmph."

"Since you've asked so sincerely..."

The girl deliberately considered it for two seconds.

"I suppose I'll reluctantly agree."

"But let me make this clear first: it's not because I want to pair up with you."

"I'm just worried that a beginner like you will blow up the cauldron!"

"Understood, understood." Harry smiled and nodded.

Beside them, Ron watched, dumbstruck.

Wait, mate.

Didn't we just agree to pair up?

How did Slytherin's young lady whisk you away in the blink of an eye?

On the other side, Goyle and Crabbe were equally stupefied.

They exchanged a glance, each seeing profound bewilderment in the other's eyes.

Wait, miss.

Haven't you forgotten something?

Didn't you call us together just last night to discuss how to make Harry Potter pay?

You said that ungrateful wretch had to learn the consequences of offending the Malfoy family!

We'd even worked out a plan!

And now?

This is what you meant by revenge?

Goyle scratched his head, and Crabbe scratched his too.

The two suddenly felt that, with their brains, they might never understand the Malfoy family's methods of retaliation in this lifetime.

That's our young lady for you.

Even her way of taking revenge is so unfathomable!

Malfoy, however, had already turned around, thoroughly satisfied.

"Goyle, Crabbe, you two pair up."

With that, she looked back at Harry, her gray-green eyes brimming with triumph.

"Hmph, today I'll show you what real Potions is."