Harry was now a bit nervous.
Aside that.
He couldn't help but voice his concern as he watched Ivan continuously feeding Scabbard the multi-flavored beans.
"Ivan, if you keep feeding Scabbers like this, he's going to become obese."
Hearing Harry's remark, Hermione, who had been preparing to ask more questions, shifted her attention to Scabbers on Ron's hand.
The mouse, once skinny with matted fur, had undergone a noticeable transformation. After its antics around the dormitory, Ron had diligently cleaned its fur with a brush, and with proper feeding over the past few days, it now appeared slightly plumper.
"Why? This level of feeding is normal. Scabbers used to be skinny and hungry, so he deserves extra meals!" Ron defended his actions, offering another bean to Scabbers.
"Besides, this can be seen as my way of apologizing," Ivan added.
Scabbers, however, showed no sign of gratitude. He glared at Ivan angrily, even attempting to push Ivan's hand away with his tiny paw. But realizing that his resistance was futile against Ivan's strength, he eventually yielded and took a bite of the offered beans.
After all, a full belly was more appealing than holding onto a grudge.
Indeed, upon closer examination, multi-flavored beans, aside from the occasional unpleasant flavor, were rather delightful.
Noticing Scabbers' weakened resistance, Ivan couldn't help but marvel at Peter Pettigrew's resilience. Pettugrew, who after framing Sirius Black for the crimes of betraying James and Lily Potter and murdering twelve muggles, went into hiding in his Animagus form, and disguised himself as a rat named Scabbers.
Yes Scabbers, our beloved rat, that's now Ron's pet. Despite being chased by a person he feared most a few nights ago, Scabbers was already back to feasting as if nothing had happened. Even though it was a dream, it indicated that Peter Pettigrew might have not fully understand the dark magic that was casted on him. Perhaps he thought Ivan had used some magic to turn his dream into a nightmare. Ivan pondered these thoughts as he observed Scabbers' behavior.
"Wait no, actually what if we overfeed him, and he gets too fat?" Ron asked with concern, glancing at Ivan's 'special treatment.'
"It's alright, Ron. With Scabbers like this, you won't need to send him on runs anymore," Ivan teased.
Deep down, Ivan knew that Voldemort's resurrection plan wouldn't have been as smooth without Peter Pettigrew. When the time came to put Pettigrew's newfound chubbiness to the test, Ivan wondered if Scabbers could outrun Crookshanks and Sirius.
The group continued their conversation as they made their way towards the basement where the potions class was held.
As they entered the classroom, Harry and Ron couldn't help but consider the rumor that Snape was a dark wizard once more.
The classroom was compact, and its atmosphere felt eerie. Glass bottles filled with various colored liquids lined the shelves, some even containing preserved animals.
Moreover, the classroom was situated underground, and if it weren't for the fact that it was part of Hogwarts, Ivan would have mistaken it for a dark wizard's secret laboratory.
"Quick, let's get to our seats. We need to be on our best behavior in this class," Ron urged, mindful of George's warning. He led Ivan, Harry, and Hermione to their seats, fearing that Snape might find an excuse to deduct points if they delayed.
Ivan, however, understood that Snape was likely to find fault with them no matter how well they behaved.
Bang!
As the young wizards settled into their seats, the classroom door was suddenly thrust open with a loud crash, the noise reverberating through the room.
Soon after, a slender figure entered the room. His pallid skin was concealed beneath a long black cloak, and his cold eyes swept over the students. When his gaze briefly met Harry's, it paused for a moment, and the shape of his nose gave him a bat-like appearance.
Snape walked to the front of the room, waved his wand, and the curtains surrounding the platform closed automatically. The classroom grew even darker.
As the room dimmed, Ivan noticed Snape's tense expression relaxed slightly.
Afterward, the potions master surveyed the students, who were restrained by his imposing presence, as he took attendance.
"I will call your names, and I hope no one has enough courage to misbehave in my class."
Snape's low voice echoed through the room, causing any mischievous students to fall silent. Only Draco Malfoy and his two cronies seemed to be sharing a private laugh.
"Neville Longbottom."
"Ivan Hals..."
...
"Harry Potter..."
Snape's tone exhibited a slight tremor when he spoke Harry's name.
"Ha~ I almost forgot," Snape's expression remained impassive, but there was a hint of sarcasm in his words. "We have a new celebrity in our midst!"
Upon hearing this, the students' attention turned to Harry, and Draco and his followers snickered privately.
Feeling inexplicably targeted, Harry felt uneasy, but he had no idea that this was just the beginning.
Snape shifted his gaze away from Harry, directing it at the entire class.
"You are here to learn the delicate art of potion-making."
"Since there are no flashy wand movements here, many of you may doubt whether this is true magic. So I don't expect you to truly grasp the beauty of potion-making."
Snape paused for a moment before continuing, his tone now laced with fascination.
"Consider this: when you simmer ingredients in a cauldron, the potion slowly boils, and wisps of steam rise... forming a liquid imbued with subtle and incomparable power... it can almost make you intoxicated and captivate all your senses... I can teach you how to concoct fame, how to brew glory, and perhaps even... how to defy death... as long as you don't prove as foolish as the bunch of dunderheads I've taught before."
After a long pause, Snape spoke again.
"Potter, what would be the outcome if you added powdered root of Asphodel with an infusion of Wormwood?"
Harry stared blankly.
What was Asphodel? What was Wormwood?
Harry turned to Ron for assistance, but Ron shared his bewildered expression. Hermione raised her hand eagerly, but Snape appeared to ignore her.
Ivan, seated at a distance, could only watch and sigh as he whispered the answer, "sleeping potion."
However, Harry, unable to hear Ivan's words, struggled to provide an answer. After a prolonged silence, he finally managed to say, "I don't know, Professor."
Ivan helplessly supported his forehead with his hand, he tried his best.
Even if he had informed Harry of the answer beforehand, Snape would find a way to target Harry, unless Harry could memorize all the potion books. Harry remained unaware of Ivan's efforts, his confusion growing as Snape continued to target him.
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