Potions Class

Harry nodded in agreement, but upon noticing Evan's ceaseless feeding of jelly beans to Scabbers, he couldn't help but interject.

"Evan, if you keep feeding him like that, Scabbers is going to burst."

At Harry's comment, Hermione, who had been about to ask another question, redirected her attention to the rat in Ron's hands.

The once skinny, tangled-fur rodent now sported a different look. After the dust-up in the dormitory, Ron had given Scabbers a thorough scrubbing, and with the recent regular feedings, the rat had visibly gained weight.

"How can that be? This feeding amount is normal. Scabbers was starved before; he should have extra meals!" Evan insisted, pushing another jelly bean towards Scabbers.

"Besides, this is also my way of apologizing," Evan added.

Scabbers, however, was not the least appreciative, glaring at Evan indignantly and arrogantly batting Evan's hand away with a small paw.

Only when Scabbers realized that it couldn't overpower Evan's persistence did it take a bite of the jelly bean presented before it.

After all, the food was right there, and no matter how upset it was, a meal is a meal, right?

It's not like it could resist anyway...

Hmm... Actually, after giving it some thought, aside from a few flavors, jelly beans were quite tasty...

Noticing Scabbers' weakening resistance, Evan couldn't help but reflect on how Peter Pettigrew, the little dwarf star, had survived for so many years. He might not be good at much, but his composure was certainly well-practiced.

Just a few nights ago, Scabbers was being chased by his worst nightmare, and now, after merely one night, he was able to feast again.

Though that chase had been in a dream...

This also meant that little dwarf star Peter had no idea about the obscure black magic of the Fearful Curse. He probably just thought Evan had turned his sweet dream into a nightmare...

After all, Evan, the young wizard, had no reason to know about events from eleven years ago, nor could he possibly know that Sirius Black's Animagus form was a black dog.

"What if he gets too fat?" Ron asked, concerned about Scabbers, who was receiving "special attention" from Evan.

"It's fine, Scabbers doesn't need to deliver messages. It's better if he's too fat to run away," Evan reassured him.

In his heart, Evan thought, if it weren't for little dwarf star Peter, Voldemort's resurrection wouldn't have been so easy.

When the time came, if Scabbers was fed until he was round as a ball, Evan was curious to see whether he could still run when faced with the pursuit of Crookshanks and Sirius Black.

The group continued their conversation as they made their way to the dungeon for Potions class.

Entering the classroom, Harry and Ron became even more convinced of the rumors about Snape being a dark wizard.

The classroom wasn't large, but the atmosphere was gloomy and eerie. Around the room, glass bottles filled with blue-green liquids contained the bodies of various animals, suspended in the fluids.

Built underground, if Evan didn't know this was Hogwarts, he might have mistaken it for a dark wizard's secret lab.

"Let's get to our seats; we need to be careful in this class!" Ron urged.

By this time, Ron had no doubt about George's earlier words and quickly ushered Evan, Harry, and Hermione to their seats, lest they give Snape a reason to deduct points.

However, Evan knew that even if they behaved throughout the class, Snape would find some reason to nitpick.

Bang~

Once the students from both houses had settled, the gloomy door was suddenly flung open, the sound of it hitting the wall echoing throughout the classroom.

Soon after, a gaunt figure entered from the door, his sallow skin hidden beneath a long black cloak. His indifferent eyes swept over the young wizards until they briefly lingered on Harry, and his hooked nose made him resemble a giant human bat...

Snape strode to the front, waving his wand, and the curtains around the room drew shut automatically. Without sunlight filtering through the windows, the dungeon darkened considerably.

As the light dimmed, Evan noticed Snape's tense expression relax slightly.

The master of potion-making, having completed these preparations, picked up the attendance book while surveying the subdued students below his imposing presence.

"I will be taking attendance shortly. I hope no one dares to vanish during my class!"

Snape's low voice echoed in the classroom, and the usually mischievous young wizards fell silent, with only Draco Malfoy and his cronies from Slytherin managing to smirk.

"Neville Longbottom."

"Evan Halse..."

...

"Harry Potter..."

When Snape called Harry's name, his tone fluctuated slightly.

"Ah, yes, I almost forgot," Snape said expressionlessly, though his words seemed tinged with sarcasm. "We have a celebrity in our school now!"

The other students turned to look at Harry, with Draco and his cronies sniggering under their breath.

Caught off guard by the singling out, Harry felt uncomfortable, unaware that this was only the beginning.

Snape turned away from Harry, addressing everyone.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making."

"As there won't be any foolish wand-waving, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you all to appreciate the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death—if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

After his speech, Snape suddenly continued.

"Potter, what would be the result if you added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry looked utterly clueless.

What is asphodel? And what's wormwood?

Harry looked to Ron for help, but Ron was equally baffled. Hermione, on the other hand, had her hand raised high, but Snape pretended not to see her.

Evan, seated too far away, could only open his mouth, silently mouthing the words "Draught of Living Death" and "Sleeping Potion."

Harry was anxious, but Snape's pressing gaze prevented him from glancing towards Evan for too long, naturally unable to guess what Evan was mouthing, and after a long struggle, he managed to utter a few difficult words.

"I don't know, Professor!"

Evan helplessly rested his forehead in his hand; he had done his best.

Even if he had told Harry the answer in advance, it would have been useless unless Harry could memorize every book related to potions. Otherwise, Snape would always find a way to target him.