Lorne sneezed, wondering who would be talking about him. When he opened the door, he saw Snape standing in front of him, about to knock.
" Professor Snape, the holidays are almost here. Have you thought about how you're going to spend your summer vacation?" Lorne greeted him naturally.
"Brewing Potions."
Snape's voice was neither loud nor soft; if his lips hadn't moved, Lorne would have had no idea where it was coming from.
"You're incredibly dedicated. If you were to dedicate even a fraction of the time you spend researching Potions to improving your teaching and studying educational texts, you might have a portrait in the Headmaster's Office at Hogwarts."
Lorne would subtly try to change Snape's teaching style every time he encountered Snape, though it had little effect. In the first-year student survey, Snape was voted the most unpopular professor for three consecutive years. He mentioned this to Dumbledore, but they didn't take it seriously.
Snape was immune to Lorne's nagging. He pulled out the Permanent Wolfsbane Potion and the system version of Felix Felicis that Lorne had given him, and said without changing his expression, "I've analyzed the ingredients of these two potions. Although I can't brew them, they've greatly helped me in my research on other Potions. Here you go."
Snape, as one of the most authoritative figures in Potions, could analyze most of the Potions just by tasting them slightly, but like the Soul-Healing Potion, he still couldn't concoct these Potions.
In Potions, the result in the bottle is not the only measure of achievement. At least now, Snape's Wolfsbane Potion has become much more effective, from merely keeping Werewolf conscious after they transform during a full moon to preventing Werewolf from transforming altogether, which is already a breakthrough.
As for Felix Felicis, even the ordinary version takes several months to half a year to refine, and the success rate is extremely low. He simply doesn't have the energy to refine it right now.
"You can continue experimenting with the Wolfsbane Potion," Lorne refused. "As for the Felix Felicis, why don't you drink it first and then Felix Felicis? That would greatly increase the success rate, or you could drink it now; perhaps it will give you some new inspiration for potion making."
Snape frowned, seemingly awakened by one of Lorne's absurd remarks. He calmly put away the medicine bottle, left with a "goodbye," and hurriedly departed.
Lorne stood behind the door watching Snape leave, then couldn't help sneezing again. He rubbed his nose and wondered, "Could I have caught a cold?"
Hermione and Ron, whose final exams were finally over, were still arguing about Scabbers. This time, Ron was truly pitiful, slumping his shoulders in frustration. "You can take your Crookshanks home, but I have to go home alone."
"You should be spending your time looking for Scabbers, not complaining to me or arguing." Hermione hugged her books, feeling relieved that the final exams were over.
"You think this is a complaint?" Ron said irritably. "I don't want anything to do with your cat or you. I don't even need you to apologize or admit that Crookshanks did it. I just need you to comfort me when I'm sad and offer your condolences to poor Scabbers."
Hermione was also very aggrieved. "But how did you treat me for half a semester? I'm already tired enough from all those classes every day, I don't want to guess what you're thinking anymore, Ron."
" Crookshanks 'm out there every day, not just the day Scabbers went missing. I'm still looking for it. Let's talk about this next semester. Maybe we both need some peace and quiet."
The two parted on bad terms. Harry and Ron watched Hermione walk away wiping away her tears. Just as they were about to chase after her, Harry suddenly noticed a brownish-yellow figure flash past them.
Harry exclaimed, "It's Crookshanks!"
Ron immediately shouted Hermione's name, but she was already far away. He looked at Harry, and the two nodded at the same time, then immediately chased after her in the direction of Crookshanks.
" Crookshanks, we won't catch you anymore, good girl!" Ron shouted as he chased after her, but could only watch as her figure drifted further and further away.
They traversed low-lying hills and disordered stone formations until they reached the vicinity of the Whomping Willow, finally watching as Crookshanks burrowed into Whomping Willow roots and disappeared along with its shadow.
Ron stood rooted to the spot, watching the Whomping Willow's branches slowly unfurl. He swallowed hard and hesitated, " Harry, should we continue chasing after them? Should we go tell Hermione first?"
Harry touched his wand. "It might know where your Scabbers are."
Harry didn't want to see Hermione and Ron's current antagonistic relationship either. If Scabbers were found, everything would come to light, and they wouldn't be so unwilling to back down because of their differing opinions.
Ron remembered what Hermione had told him earlier—that he should go find Scabbers instead of complaining—so he pursed his lips and said firmly, "Okay, let's go."
Both of them were extremely determined, but the result...
Ron covered his face, Harry hunched over. Only after being Whomping Willow did they belatedly realize that the problem was never whether they wanted to go in, but whether they could go in at all.
"Hiss—what do we do, Harry? The Whomping Willow doesn't seem to be letting us through."
"That explains everything, Ron," Harry said, still struggling to his feet after being Whomping Willow. "We haven't seen Scabbers at Hogwarts for so long; it must be trapped inside the Whomping Willow."
Harry raised his wand; he had longed for a chance to put his skills to use. At the beginning of the term, he had been terrified by Dementor on the train and fainted; he had fallen from a height during Quidditch Match... This term, he had worked hard to improve himself, but he hadn't had a chance to use his skills.
The moment had come. Harry suddenly changed the way he held his wand, took a half-step to the side, and shouted before Ron could react.
" Incendio!"
Flames erupted from the tip of Harry's wand, scalding tongues of fire licking furiously at the wrinkled bark of the Whomping Willow. There was no thick black smoke, no crackling of flames, only the intense heat that rushed towards him and bounced back onto his face.
Ron knew the branches of the Whomping Willow were very valuable, and fearing Harry might actually damage Whomping Willow, he anxiously called out, " Harry!"
Harry thought he heard someone calling his name, and vaguely heard someone call Hermione's name as well. He assumed he was hallucinating and focused even harder on casting the spell.
The shape of the Whomping Willow was obscured by the flames, but Ron keenly noticed that its once flamboyant branches had become sluggish, swaying like fireworks after they had burned out, and finally drooping down helplessly.
Ron exclaimed in delight, "It worked, Harry!"
Harry stopped immediately; the overuse of magic had made him a little dizzy, but the joy of victory kept him perfectly clear-headed.
"Let's go in quickly, Ron!"