Chapter 66: We Have All Understood!

The fire went out.

Ian wiped the nonexistent sweat from his forehead.

"If it weren't for me, this potion would have been ruined!"

Just as a firekeeper must bring his own fuel, mastering heat control was a skill in itself.

Whether it was cooking food or brewing potions, precise heat control was always crucial. It determined success or failure, victory or defeat. In Ian's eyes, it was a responsibility—one that demanded both diligence and skill. His personal status panel seemed to agree with him.

[Potion Mastery (Level 2) 65/200]

Ian had been carefully monitoring every step of the brewing process.

Experience comes from practice.

It didn't matter how others viewed it—gaining more than ten points of proficiency in a single lesson spoke for itself. This was an exhilarating potion-making experience!

"We did great! First ones to finish, and the quality looks excellent," Ian said cheerfully.

Unbeknownst to him, not far away, Professor Snape's expression was so dark it seemed he might grind his teeth to dust.

Ian, however, remained oblivious. He turned to Aurora, guiding her through the final steps of bottling the potion.

"Hm. Hm."

Following Ian's instructions, Aurora carefully poured the potion into a glass vial. She gazed at their completed Boil-Curing Potion, a faint but satisfied smile appearing on her usually cold face.

Their first successful attempt at potion-making.

This was the joy of accomplishment.

"You're amazing! I feel like we're future Potions Masters in the making!" Ian continued to fuel the moment with positive reinforcement.

Aurora had indeed handled the ingredients and brewing process skillfully. But Ian believed his own guidance had played a significant role.

After all, directing someone in potion-making—shouldn't that also count as a talent for potions?

"I wonder if we can keep it," Aurora mused, carefully placing their potion on the table.

At that moment—

A furious Professor Snape stormed over, his patience finally snapping. He simply couldn't tolerate Ian Prince making a mockery of their family's esteemed legacy.

A Prince family member—reduced to a mere firekeeper?!

"Professor, look at our work! Give it a grade!" Ian, confident their potion was the best in class, unknowingly added fuel to the fire.

"Five points to Slytherin. One point from Ravenclaw." Snape barely managed to suppress his frustration, delivering his verdict with forced composure.

"This potion is clearly Miss Grindelwald's achievement. It is well-executed, and had you not been a hindrance, I imagine the final result would have been even better."

His voice was quiet but cutting, laced with icy disapproval.

"This is our shared effort," Ian argued, unwilling to accept the dismissal. His personal panel wouldn't lie! He had been deeply involved in the entire process.

"Professor, I think Ian is right," Aurora chimed in, her agreement firm.

Snape's forehead creased even further. A top student from his own house siding with an outsider? His molars were in danger of being ground to dust.

With both students standing by their claim, Snape couldn't outright dismiss them. He prided himself on being rational—at least, under certain circumstances.

"…However, this class requires two completed potions per pair."

The words sent a ripple of alarm through the classroom.

"What?!"

The outburst didn't come from Ian or Aurora. It was the rest of the students—still struggling to finish even one potion—who erupted into protest.

"Professor, you never said that before! I was taking notes the entire time!"

"Oh no, we only prepared ingredients for one batch."

"But if we've learned how to make it once, what's the point of doing it twice?"

"You guys are complaining about a second attempt?! We haven't even gotten the first one right! Someone, please—how do I turn this green sludge into yellow potion?"

"The potion's supposed to be yellow? What if I add...."

The room descended into chaos.

Snape, however, remained utterly unfazed.

He let out a cold snort.

"Perhaps I didn't mention it earlier. But I am mentioning it now. That is my requirement."

Ian found himself in the presence of someone even more shameless than himself.

Even the Slytherins looked disgruntled, but no one dared to argue further. Ian had no choice but to yield.

"Aurora, we've encountered a difficult man. Go grab more ingredients—we're making another batch."

He sighed heavily. Aurora got up to retrieve them.

However—

Before she could take a step, Snape placed a firm hand on her shoulder and pushed her back down into her seat.

"…Professor?"

Aurora instinctively reached for her wand, but stopped herself.

"Miss Grindelwald has already completed her assignment," Snape said coolly. "Now it is his turn."

His piercing gaze locked onto Ian, filled with unspoken menace—as if he wanted to devour him whole.

In all his years of teaching, Snape had never encountered such a slippery student!

Damn that Sorting Hat! How did someone like this end up in Ravenclaw instead of Slytherin?!

"This is blatant favoritism," Ian muttered, but with no real alternative, he trudged over to the supply cabinet and retrieved the necessary ingredients.

"Snake fangs, horned slugs, porcupine quills…"

Snape said nothing. He merely stood there, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, watching Ian's every move with the scrutiny of a predator.

With no other choice, Ian began preparing the snake fangs.

Aurora moved to stoke the fire.

Snape shot her a sharp look.

Aurora ignored it.

She reached for the fuel anyway.

Before she could add more wood, Snape grabbed her by the back of her robes and lifted her away.

"…Professor?"

Her arms flailed slightly in midair, as if instinctively wanting to draw her wand.

She held back.

"Let him do it himself."

Snape made no effort to help any of the struggling students in the room. His entire focus was locked on Ian, as though determined to monitor every single step.

Grinding the snake fangs into fine powder, Ian dropped them into the cauldron and adjusted the heat. Next, he prepared the horned slugs.

Timing everything precisely, he waved his wand and added them in.

"This is basically like making soup. It's all about timing and simmering," Ian remarked, trying to ease the tension.

Snape remained silent, his jaw clenched.

He wanted to criticize Ian.

He was waiting for a mistake.

But Ian's technique was clean. No errors.

Snape's fingers twitched.

"…Continue."

His voice was forced.

Meanwhile, across the room, students began whispering.

"Why is the Professor only watching Ravenclaw's table?"

"Yeah, what's going on?"

"Looks like he's really focused on Ian and Aurora."

More eyes turned in their direction.

Ian, unfazed, continued stirring.

"It's not just about simmering—reducing the liquid is important too. That's where the technique of sautéing comes in."

He adjusted the cauldron, adding porcupine quills in a precise clockwise motion.

His explanation clicked with his classmates.

Even Aurora nodded in agreement.

Several other students were struck by realization.

"Oh—I get it now!"

"I've got it too!"

"My mum must be a Potions Master—her cooking is amazing!"

A chorus of enlightenment spread across the room.

Snape's eye twitched. He had faced unruly students before, but this — this was the greatest affront to his authority since he started teaching.