Chapter 65: Potions? Nothing Special!

Daphne’s happiness? Gone.

Snape’s legendary scolding of latecomers? Also gone.

Ian’s mood? Visibly deflated.

“What’s wrong?” Aurora cast a concerned glance at her companion sitting beside her.

Ian let out a heavy sigh, his eyes dull as he watched Snape stride up to the podium.

“I lost all my excitement for today.”

He had even prepared a gift for Daphne Greengrass, but the girl was still recovering on the first floor—perhaps still dazed. Or maybe the clever young pure-blood witch had foreseen his moves and deliberately avoided him?

“Oh, I see. You got kissed by a Dementor,” Aurora remarked casually as she arranged her books. Her brand-new Potions textbook, surprisingly, was already filled with meticulous notes.

Ian turned his head and immediately noticed it.

“You got the deluxe edition?!”

He caught sight of the distinct handwriting — undoubtedly notes from a master potioneer within the Saint circle. His voice lowered in awe.

“Geminio!”

Aurora tapped her book with her wand and intoned a spell. Instantly, an identical copy materialized. She slid it over to Ian with her delicate hand.

“This will last one lesson. I’ll share my notes with you again next class.” Her cool voice carried the sharp efficiency of an accountant calculating gains.

“I’m absolutely not jealous.”

Despite his words, Ian eagerly flipped through the pages, scanning the insightful annotations. By tomorrow night, he’d be able to enter the Ethereal Realm again. He wondered how Professor Mara’s research on New-Age Potioneering was progressing.

On the podium, Snape had begun the lesson.

“Good. It seems that all of you understand the importance of punctuality—an absolutely crucial aspect of potion-making.”

“The brewing of potions is an intricate and demanding craft. Some may foolishly think it is not magic, but few truly appreciate the delicate simmer of a cauldron releasing its fragrant mist. Even fewer understand the sheer power contained within the liquid that flows through one’s veins.”

His gaze, sharp and penetrating, swept over the students, pausing for dramatic effect.

Meanwhile, Ian leaned toward Aurora, whispering, “He’s about to start boasting.”

Right on cue—

“I can teach you how to earn prestige, how to garner glory, and even…” Snape let his words hang in the air, lowering his voice for impact.

“…how to prevent death itself.”

Ian’s eyes lit up again. Finally, one iconic moment remained intact.

“Of course, he can’t actually do it,” Ian added with a knowing smirk. “This whole speech? Lifted straight from someone else. And next, he’s going to call us idiots and dunderheads.”

Aurora blinked, momentarily stunned.

Then—

“I can teach you many things,” Snape continued smoothly, “but only if you are not the kind of dunderheaded fools I so often encounter.”

A flawless execution.

Seated near the back, Ian and Aurora were far enough away that Snape couldn’t hear their whispered conversation. He merely noted that Ian was speaking with Little Grindelwald and chose to ignore it.

Aurora, however, turned to Ian with wide, astonished eyes.

“How did you know? Are you also a Seer?”

Ian froze for a moment.

“…Also?”

That was a suspicious word choice.

“Our family has this talent,” Aurora admitted without hesitation, tapping her temple. “We can see glimpses of the future. I saw that scene the moment I walked into the classroom.”

“Your grandfather too?” Ian was genuinely surprised. He didn’t know much about the Grindelwald family’s secrets. Before he was reincarnated, there had been talk of a movie about Grindelwald, but he hadn’t watched it.

“He’s far more powerful than I am,” Aurora answered solemnly.

“…Did he see his own fate?” Ian hesitated before asking.

Aurora’s expression didn’t change.

“The Saint followers still believe that both past and present are merely my grandfather’s choices—all part of a greater plan.”

A non-answer.

But a telling one.

“I see… Faith is terrifying,” Ian murmured.

“Who isn’t terrified?” Aurora sighed, nodding.

Snape’s voice cut through their discussion.

“Now, pair up and begin brewing Boil-Cure Potion. I must remind you all—handle your ingredients with care. Unless, of course, you want to end up like Miss Greengrass.”

As the students moved into action, Snape’s gaze flickered briefly to Ian and Aurora, who had been whispering for most of the lesson. Then, expressionless, he turned toward the Slytherin section.

“Michael Jordan, return to your House’s area.”

Clearly irritated, Snape directed his frustration at the Ravenclaw student who had been lingering in Slytherin territory.

Michael, caught off guard, looked between Ian and the Ravenclaw section, his face full of disbelief.

“But why?”

“I will not repeat myself.” Snape’s tone was severe.

“…Yes, Professor.”

Shrinking under the pressure, Michael reluctantly gathered his things and retreated to his own area.

The lesson continued.

“Go grab the ingredients before they take all the good ones,” Ian instructed, pulling out his gleaming golden cauldron and setting it up.

“Got it.”

Aurora immediately stood and hurried toward the supply cabinet.

Students swarmed the shelves, selecting ingredients. Surprisingly, Snape didn’t reprimand or deduct points from anyone. He simply prowled the classroom, observing. Eventually, he stopped at Ian and Aurora’s workstation.

Aurora had returned, carrying her ingredients. Some Slytherin students had even handed her pre-selected materials.

Snape’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“Mr. Prince, why haven’t you started?” His tone was cold.

“We’re dividing the work, Professor.” Ian’s answer was impeccably serious.

Snape’s jaw tightened. He glanced at Aurora—who was diligently grinding snake fangs—then exhaled sharply and walked away.

However, he kept watching.

Which meant he bore witness to an utterly infuriating sight.

Aurora ground the snake fangs.

Ian tended the fire.

Aurora prepared the horned slugs.

Ian tended the fire.

Aurora added the porcupine quills and stirred vigorously.

Ian tended the fire.

Five full rotations later, the potion was finished.

And Ian?

Ian extinguished the fire...