Potion-making class

|September 4, 1991| Slytherin House - Lilian's Dormitory|

*Bleuuur* I looked at myself in the mirror even though I couldn't see my reflection. As always, after my training, I regurgitated the remnants of old cells from my body in a bloody morning vomit. 

Fortunately, Blaise sleeps like the dead; if he saw me like this, he and the two other girls would bombard me with questions. 

Even though we've known each other for barely a few days, there's already a budding connection between us. After all, the essence of humanity lies in our deeply social nature. We are beings inexorably woven into the vast tapestry of society, our destinies intertwined like the threads of a complex web.

Especially for me, every interaction I have will not be forgotten. That's why I have two mottos in life for interactions with others:

- never lie and never break a promise because only those who are afraid lie, but the clever ones only distort the truth. With this mentality, you become more in tune with yourself while subtly manipulating others. 

-And as a second motto, always look at the actions of others through their perspective, no matter how ignoble those actions may be.

 As long as I have these two mottos, I will prevent my memory from alienating anyone close in my life.

----------------------------------------------

With my three new classmates, we headed to the first class of the day, the Potions class. 

"I can't wait for this afternoon; we'll have our first flying lesson," as always, I wondered why Tracey wasn't in Gryffindor.

"Speak for yourself, Tracey, who likes sports in the afternoon; it should be in the morning. Honestly, why in the afternoon?" Blaise, still half-asleep, was grumbling.

"You would have complained anyway if it were in the morning, so stop that and let's go to class," Daphne, in a murderous mood today, walked determinedly.

"What's wrong with her, giving me her cold character?" Blaise secretly asked Tracey.

"She's still upset that the Gryffindor girl succeeded in transfiguration yesterday before her, and without help when she couldn't,"

"That's totally untrue; I managed to do it too," Daphne, once again, had that adorable look when she dropped her role as the perfect noble girl out of embarrassment.

"And Lilian, are you going to participate in the flying lesson?"

And she changed the subject. With a sly smile at her act, I replied, "I don't think it would be wise to put me on a flying broom, so no. I don't see the appeal of a sport that relies solely on the Seeker, and I prefer to leave that domain to my brother."

As Tracey tried her best to convert me, we arrived at the classroom, which we still shared with Gryffindor. At least, my idiot brother arrived on time this time.

This class is presided over by Severus Snape, a former close friend of Mum's and apparently a thorn in Dad's side during his rebellious phase. So, I don't know what to think of him. The orphans that we were, thanks to our circumstances, understood what it was like to be a thorn, so I could understand if he were angry with Mum for associating with Dad. But that only works if he loved Mum.

****Change of point of view - Severus Snape****

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through the human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even stopper death—if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

As I began my class, I spotted them again. The Potter brothers, the two children from that vermin, and from... Lily. 

I could see in them that fragile appearance, that keen intelligence shining within them, but also that detestable arrogance, especially in Lilian Potter, one of my Slytherins.

 That child will bring nothing but trouble to the castle, I know it.

But I can't bring myself to do anything to them; they are all I have left of Lily. I cursed the day she met James Potter. I cursed the day those bastards became friends with her, and I cursed the day... when I committed the irreparable.

I see that Harry has also inherited James's attention.

"Mr. Potter, it seems that fame allows you to know everything about my class, so can you answer my questions?"

"What do I get when I add powdered root of Asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"I don't know, sir?" Of course, he doesn't know, raised among Muggles like Tobias Snape.

"Where would you look if I asked you to find a Bezoar?"

"I don't know, sir." Stupid children; these things are in the first-year textbooks, and even a Troll knows they should look.

"What is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfbane?"

"I don't know, sir." Stupid children; these things are in the first-year manuals that even a Troll knows to look at.

"I see... Now, the other Potter, I hope as a Slytherin, you will be smarter than your brother, and also 10 points deducted from Gryffindor."

"What do I get when I add powdered root of Asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"I believe it would make a sleeping draught called the Draught of Living Death, Mr. Snape. I remember it because Asphodel is part of the family of my favorite flowers, Lilies. Oh, I also think that this plant signifies regret in the language of flowers. Do you also like Lilies, Mr. Snape, even though your role as an apothecary is, of course, to grind these poor Lilies into powder?"

This child knows what I felt for his mother, looking at me with that abject innocent smile. He was rightly placed in Slytherin. I don't know how he lost his eyes, but that could be a blessing for us. He almost made me lose control of my Occlumency.

"I didn't ask you to tell me your life story, Mr. Potter, nor to ask about mine. The class begins."

I watched all these incompetents make mistakes in what is simply written on the board.

"Longbottom and Finnigan, I asked you to make an antidote for boils, not a cauldron of explosives. Minus 10 points for Gryffindor."

As I walked through the rows, I overheard the conversation between Lilian Potter and Daphne Greengrass.

"Hmm, I see even limited by the restriction on rituals, potion-making is still surprising. Inefficient but surprising."

"What do rituals have to do with it?"

"You see, Daphne, potion-making is a sub-genre of the broader category of rituals. In the old method of potion-making as I know it, you make potions in a magic circle controlled by the power of runes to better harmonize and deploy the full power of the ingredients. But here, we just use the wand to amplify the ingredients and other additional elements to harmonize the potion. All of this is due to the modernization of the wand and the elimination of rituals."

"How do you know this? I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I thought you were an orphan."

"Let's say I have an extensive collection of books at home, and I speak many languages lost in time."

Hmm, so he had access to the Potter collection. I need to know how far he went.

Attempting a more forceful attempt at Legilimency on him, since eye contact is impossible, being blind, what I saw impressed me. There was an entire world in his mind filled with incomprehensible figures made of 0s and 1s. Trying, I got lost in that world for a moment; I thought I saw Lily and... me. This kid is trying to trap me in his world with a vision of a wonderful dream.

He is dangerous.

"Lilian, are you okay? What's happening to you!?"

"I'm okay, Daphne, just a dizziness." He turned to me and asked if I was lost too.

He is... "I don't think you should concern yourself with me, Mr. Potter, but rather with your cauldron."

I have to be more careful with him from now on