Chapter 47: Potions Professor

The foolish methods used by this idiot, even when followed precisely, can only ever keep him at the passing line.

Such a wizard without talent, even one extra glance,

is a waste of my precious time, Master of Potions, Severus Snape!

Watching those flawed techniques, Snape’s dark eyes nearly blazed with fury,

but when he gazed into those unusually bright green eyes,

the fire in his heart slowly cooled.

Thinking of how this student had braved rain and wind, playing hide-and-seek with him,

all just to brew a pile of worthless potion,

Snape felt a strange, complex emotion rise within him.

Fortunately, he had indeed improved—in last week’s potion class, he even brewed a potion that was barely excellent,

and that was the reason Snape hadn’t driven him away immediately.

Sometimes he came here to watch this fool scramble and strain in desperate thought,

those idiots thought he was in his office?

They didn’t know Hogwarts had more secret passages than towers.

But there was one thing he might never admit—

that he thought he was merely watching a joke, when in truth he was quietly watching over the young wizard’s safety.

“Failed again…”

【You successfully brewed a Boil-Cure Potion to apprentice standards, proficiency +1】

In the dungeon, beside the cauldron, Xiang Xiang Xien sighed.

But he wasn’t discouraged—he knew success didn’t come overnight.

He had found inspiration, just hadn’t fully grasped it—

changing one step affected the others in a chain reaction, and he’d failed to adjust the rest, causing the potion’s quality to drop,

but if he had just one more chance to brew, he would succeed.

As he cleaned the cauldron and prepared to try again,

the dungeon door slammed open, crashing against the stone wall with a heavy thud,

shadows surged in before the figure, followed by bat-like black robes swirling and swallowing the dim light at the doorway,

footsteps echoed on the damp stone, unhurried yet rhythmic, like a judgment.

Xiang Xiang Xien froze completely,

his large green eyes blinking in confusion as Professor Snape walked step by step toward him.

The dim yellow glow barely illuminated the sharp shadow cast by his hooked nose,

making his cold words even colder:

“Xiang Xiang Xien…”

His voice was like a serpent’s hiss,

and Xiang Xiang Xien’s eyes dimmed.

He made no attempt to defend himself, only quietly packed his materials, cleaned the cauldron, and prepared to leave the dungeon.

Xiang Xiang Xien knew his choice had always been dangerous,

and if caught, he must accept the consequences.

“Sorry, Professor Snape.”

Xiang Xiang Xien whispered,

“I’m leaving now.”

Then he slung his black satchel over his shoulder and turned to go.

“Ha—of course, if I were you—”

Snape sneered,

“such foolish potion-brewing, such flawed technique—I’d be so ashamed I wouldn’t dare linger in this sacred place.”

Hearing Snape’s words, Xiang Xiang Xien showed no reaction—he only silently mourned: he’d been so close to success.

“Running away—is that your choice?”

Professor Snape suddenly spoke,

“If I were you, I’d light the cauldron immediately—and at the final stir, increase the motion, add one more full turn.”

Xiang Xiang Xien froze, his steps halting as he turned in surprise to look at Professor Snape.

Professor Snape… was he giving him advice?

Xiang Xiang Xien didn’t hesitate—he dropped his bag and reached for the materials,

when suddenly,

a bundle of ingredients floated onto the wooden table,

and Xiang Xiang Xien heard Professor Snape’s cold voice:

“If you fail—”

Snape’s gaze was icy, a clear threat.

But Xiang Xiang Xien felt nothing.

He had always been able to ignore surface appearances—thanks to his deep understanding.

Like Hermione, she could be aloof and liked to instruct others,

but beneath that haughty attitude lay sincere concern.

Like Professor Snape, he always hid his emotions behind cruelty, bias, and hostility.

But no one could blame him for that—not everyone is capable of love.

Xiang Xiang Xien recalled Snape’s teachings,

and the cauldron was relit, bubbles rising again.

This time, Xiang Xiang Xien brewed the potion smoothly.

Snape’s grim face showed a hint of satisfaction,

unlike the boisterous Gryffindors or the mindless Hufflepuffs,

Ravenclaws were always a bit smarter—this young wizard was among the best.

He knew what he wanted, acted on it, and was sufficiently…

extremely diligent.

When the emerald-green liquid reappeared, Xiang Xiang Xien grew tense—until—

【You successfully brewed a Boil-Cure Potion to adept standards, proficiency +10】

【Boil-Cure Potion unlocked】

【New Potion Mastery title unlocked, please check】

【One wizard talent unlocked, please check】

The fireplace flames burned brighter; Xiang Xiang Xien still dared not relax, carefully storing the potion in a crystal vial,

and only when the cauldron was fully extinguished did he finally ease.

This earned a slight nod from Snape.

Before him,

Xiang Xiang Xien was slightly excited—he hadn’t even used the improved ritual…

“Professor Snape, thank you.”

Xiang Xiang Xien thanked him sincerely, his clear eyes holding nothing but gratitude.

This made Snape, who had turned to leave, pause.

For a moment, he didn’t mock—he studied Xiang Xiang Xien more deeply.

“You should be grateful you succeeded—otherwise—”

his sallow face flickered with emotion, rare complexity in his eyes,

“Xiang Xiang Xien, let me tell you a truth:

To honor yourself despite failure in Potions

is the power to change reality.

If you belittle yourself,

I swear,

the door to Potions will never open for you—”

Even after leaving the dungeon, those words echoed in Xiang Xiang Xien’s mind, nearly shattering his rigid image of Professor Snape.

Beneath the giant portrait, under Sir Cadogan’s incessant muttering,

Xiang Xiang Xien recalled Professor Snape once more:

He was undoubtedly starved of love.

His tragedy was that he spent his life longing for love, yet lost the ability to understand or express it due to childhood deprivation.

He seized Lily as his only love, yet destroyed it himself through his flaws and the tragedy of his times.

In the end, his life became a long, painful self-punishment written in loyalty and courage.

His greatness lay in his astonishing courage and perseverance, but his core nature was that lonely boy in the cold house on Spinner’s End, never nurtured by love.

And then what?

Can you really define Professor Snape as a soulless shell that will never grow again?

Wizard Sean,

he said to himself,

you are organizing your own biases and trying to force them onto a living person.