Soren really wanted to advise her not to be so lazy; middle age is the prime time for striving, and one shouldn't always indulge in comfort.
But he didn't dare...
Madam Pince was the first wizard he had ever seen to master [Dual-Wielding Casting]—wand in her right hand, feather duster in her left, she practiced both magic and martial arts!
Soren had seen her with his own eyes yesterday, brandishing a feather duster to chase down students who violated the rules; he certainly didn't want to experience it himself.
With no other choice, he could only leave with regret.
But just as he turned around and was about to leave, he suddenly felt a gaze land on his back, seemingly coming from around the corner...
Was someone hiding around the corner spying on him?
Who could it be?
The first person to pop into Soren's mind was Quirrell, but this gaze lacked that bone-chilling coldness.
As long as it wasn't him, the threat from anyone else wasn't significant.
Thinking of this, he paused his steps and whipped his head around to look back.
He saw a white shadow flash around the corner, disappearing in a swish. It was so fast that he couldn't help but wonder if it had been his imagination.
Given that he was currently in the safe Hogwarts Castle, Soren plucked up the courage to chase after it.
The short distance of ten meters was covered in an instant.
On the other side of the corner was a long corridor, with no side paths or other rooms; he could see the end at a single glance.
The corridor was quiet and empty.
Could he have really seen it wrong?
Soren turned and left, feeling puzzled.
After walking a dozen steps, he suddenly turned and sprinted, dashing back to the corner to look to the other side.
Still nothing, and he truly hadn't heard any movement...
Fine, maybe he really had misread it, or perhaps it was a passing ghost?
Considering he had other things to do, Soren really left this time.
After he had walked far away, a tall, beautiful female ghost floated out from the wall, patting her chest, still shaken.
That really scared her just now; who would have thought that the new student was so paranoid and would actually double back?
Fortunately, she was a step ahead, taking a step back and hiding directly into the wall, so she wasn't discovered by him.
The female ghost who was quietly tailing Soren was, of course, The Grey Lady.
She still felt that there was a secret about Soren—that Sorting was definitely not simple—so she decided to follow him around the clock, convinced she would eventually find a flaw.
As for the duties of the resident ghost of Ravenclaw... that wasn't important!
In this castle, not even the Headmaster could easily interfere with her actions; this was her confidence as a "Ravenclaw"!
A great surname could provide shelter for descendants, even in the face of death.
"In the eyes of the wise Ravenclaw, all secrets have nowhere to hide..."
The Grey Lady murmured to herself and chased after the direction he had left.
For that glimmer of hope she had sought for a thousand years, stalking... pfft! The investigation continued; so it was today, and so it would be every day!
Soren Reed and the Magic Library: Chapter 66: In the fairytale-like castle, there are "surveillance cameras" everywhere...
Walking alone through the intricate corridors of Hogwarts Castle, Soren was not lonely at all.
On the contrary, he felt this castle was a bit too lively.
This liveliness came not only from the students coming and going, but also from the portraits and magical creations that could be seen everywhere.
Whenever he passed those portraits, the people in the paintings would pay attention to him. The hospitable ones would even greet him and invite him to chat for a bit.
What impressed him even more were the magical suits of armor—
When he passed by, they would always "accidentally" drop something—it might be an iron gauntlet, a held weapon, or perhaps their helmet.
The first time, Soren was completely unprepared and was genuinely startled.
Before he had walked far, he heard giggling from behind. Clearly, this clumsy behavior was intentional, just to have some fun at the expense of the new students.
Real children might find this interesting; after all, this was a living, magical castle full of constant changes.
Beneath his mask of a constant smile, Soren felt a deep headache.
The intelligence network built by these "cameras" and "informants" was too tight, spreading to every corner of the castle; there was simply no way to avoid it.
It was fine when nothing was happening, but if something went wrong or school staff intentionally inquired, these setups would expose a student's whereabouts in minutes.
For someone like him who longed for night roaming and sneaking out, this was a difficult challenge.
It was no wonder Harry had to have an Invisibility Cloak; otherwise, he would be caught whenever he went out, and the plot simply couldn't progress...
Every so often, Soren would stop to write and draw in a small notebook.
This was both to perfect the map and to mark the locations of the "surveillance cameras."
As the map gradually became detailed, a vague idea slowly became clear in his mind.
As everyone knows, seeing is not necessarily believing. These monitors would indeed record his whereabouts, but they could also be—the whereabouts he wanted the monitors to see.
A new student who searched the castle for a practice spot to no avail, and finally had to go to the Abandoned Bathroom.
This was the disguise he designed for himself.
When the time was right in the future, he might be able to use the same routine to "accidentally discover" the Room of Requirement.
Even if he was caught one day, this reason would hold water, and he could even have the castle's intelligence network vouch for him.
Plan accomplished—!
While pondering, he avoided the corridor on the right side of the fourth floor, checking every classroom along the way, pretending to be familiarizing himself with the environment.
Eventually, it took him over an hour to wander to the front of the bathroom where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets was located.
After arriving there, he pretended to be hesitant, pacing around the entrance a few times, and chose to pass by without entering.
No matter what, this was—the girls' bathroom.
Even if it was abandoned, a normal boy wouldn't just walk in casually.
If you're going to act, you have to do the whole thing. He would wander around the castle for a few days, and only when he finally had "no other choice" would he come to this bathroom, which was said to be haunted, to try his luck.
Soren wasn't sure if this counted as matching wits with the air, but considering that both the Dark Lord and the White Wizard were watching him, and there were countless surveillance cameras in the castle, he decided to proceed with caution.
Leaving the corridor where the bathroom was located, a painting hanging on the wall caught his attention.
In the painting, there was a medieval man riding a horse. On his outstretched arm perched a beautiful owl, as if he were about to go on an excursion.
Upon seeing this painting, Soren's pupils dilated in shock; he suddenly remembered something he had forgotten—
Oh no... my owl!
He had been too busy these past few days at school and had forgotten about the little messenger!
This is bad, this is bad, this is bad...
Although Hogwarts would help take care of the owls, he, as the owner, had left his pet unattended for three days, which was somewhat irresponsible.
Thinking this, Soren quickly initiated a remedial action.
Leaving the main castle, he found the independent owlery, or rather, the owl tower, on the western highlands.
When he arrived, the House-elf had just finished cleaning. The ground was clean, and the bird scent in the air was within a tolerable range.
Pushing open the door and stepping inside, dozens, maybe hundreds, of owls were in their own hollows, curiously looking at him.
Soren's eyes were dazzled, and he couldn't find Brigitta, so he simply called out her name.
After calling a few times with no response, he continued climbing up.
When he reached the fourth floor, just as he was about to speak, he heard a familiar cooing sound from behind him, followed by the sound of flapping wings.
He quickly turned to check, and the one flying down from the high perch was none other than his little messenger.
"Brigitta!"
Soren called her gently and extended his arm, just like the one depicted in the painting.
The round, big owl landed obediently on his arm and rubbed her head affectionately against her owner's head.
The heartwarming time between the human and his pet lasted for a dozen seconds.
Afterward...
Miss Brigitta, who had been stood up for three days, narrowed her eyes and launched a storm of pecks at her faithless owner.
"Ahhh—"
Soren let out a sharp cry as he was pecked, his free hand doing its best to protect his hairstyle.
After making a fuss for a while, Brigitta finally forgave his neglect and made up with him.
Soren took her to the open space outside the owlery to fly a few laps and gently instructed:
"If you pass by London while delivering mail for the school, remember to go back to the Orphanage and check on Ella for me. This Friday... hmm, let's make it Saturday, you deliver a letter back for me, and by the way, I'll introduce you to a new friend."
This friend was naturally Hermione; he still remembered the promise he made on the train.
The clever Miss Brigitta nodded in response; she also missed the human friend who used to catch mice with her.
After staying with the owl for a while, Soren sent her back to the owlery and set off for the greenhouses on the other side of the main castle.
At 10:30 AM, the melodic bell for the end of class rang.
The first-year little lions and badgers walked out of the greenhouse in groups and immediately saw Soren, who was sitting alone on the lawn, reading quietly.
The warm autumn sun, like golden fine gauze, fell softly on him, outlining a faint halo around him.
The breeze, like a nimble spirit, brushed by gently, stirring the bangs on his forehead and causing the pages of the book in his hands to rustle.
He just sat there quietly, possessing an incredible intellectual charm that attracted the gazes of his peers.
Many new students took him for a Ravenclaw at first glance, until they saw that silver and green tie and realized that this beautiful reading boy was actually a Slytherin...
Suddenly, a commotion broke out in the Gryffindor group.
The girls, all smiles, dragged Hermione, who was walking behind, out and pushed her alone out of the crowd, which gave her a start.
Hermione initially thought this was some prank and was about to pretend to get angry at them, when she saw Soren reading quietly.
In the brief moment of distraction, she heard the annoying teasing of her female classmates—
"Go on, your 'good friend' is here to pick you up~"
"How nice~ I also wish I had a 'good friend' who is inseparable, can pick me up after class, eat with me, and go spend the whole day in the Library!"
The Gryffindor girls exerted their collective effort, successfully making Hermione blush instantly.
She tried to defend herself, saying Soren was just here for class, and they both had Herbology Class next. But the girls wouldn't listen; if they didn't have another class next, who knows how long they would have kept teasing her.
Eventually, Hermione awkwardly approached Soren, chatted with him for a few sentences, and then ran away with a blushing face.
Soren waved at her back, and taking advantage of the fact that other students hadn't arrived yet, he was the first to walk toward the greenhouse, continuing to play the part of a good student.
Soren Reed and the Magic Library: Chapter 67: Herbology Class, the good-natured Professor Sprout.
Approaching the greenhouse, he pushed open the creaking wooden door.
A wave of humid, hot air rushed towards him, hitting Soren in the face. He was very glad that he didn't need to wear prescription glasses in this life; otherwise, just from this, his lenses would probably have fogged up.
Stopping to look, this greenhouse, which was located the furthest out, also had an Extension Charm cast on it, and the interior space was far larger than what he saw in the movies.
As far as the eye could see, there were neatly planned planting areas, each with different crops; there was no such layout where dozens of magical plants were mixed together.
If he had to say, Soren felt this greenhouse was more like a vegetable shed; those plants all looked quite ordinary...
He looked around, and in one of the planting areas filled with flowerpots, he saw Professor Sprout, who was busy—
She was a short, plump witch with flowing gray hair.
Soren Reed walked quickly, standing a few meters behind her, and greeted her with great energy: "Good afternoon, Professor Sprout."
Professor Sprout, who was busy placing flowerpots on a wooden shelf, turned her head to look back in a hurry; the thick, patched hat on her head slid down a little, blocking her vision and preventing her from seeing clearly.
"Did you drop something, child? You must be careful next time; being scatterbrained is not a good habit."
"Er—"
Soren suspected that Professor Sprout was actually talking about Neville. "No, I am here for class, Professor Sprout."
"Oh?"
Professor Sprout waved her wand, placed the last few flowerpots, and raised her hand to adjust her hat, only then noticing the Slytherin school uniform Soren was wearing.
"Ah, a new student, your first Herbology Class class, right? You're a little early, why not find a chair and sit for a while."
Soren had a better idea: "I can help, Professor. It looks like there is still a lot to tidy up here."
He pointed to the floor and a table not far away.
The students from the previous class had left, but muddy handprints and plant debris remained; some had even been stepped on, sticking to the floor and looking quite unsightly.
"Hmm... if you are willing, that would be wonderful. The tools you need are in the utility room."
Professor Sprout laughed heartily; the mud stuck to her clothes actually gave her a sense of ease and cheerfulness.
Soren observed the professor calmly and suddenly felt that when the four houses appointed their heads, they might have based it on the nature of the four founders.
This Professor Sprout was just like Helga Hufflepuff a thousand years ago—both were the kind of kind, smiling witches.
—One look and you could tell they were easy to get along with!
Soren immediately stated that he had self-taught Scourgify, which was perfect for the current situation.
Over the next ten minutes, he used Scourgify to help clean the greenhouse and used the Levitation Charm to help Professor Sprout place the teaching plants they would be using onto the table.
Professor Sprout laughed happily the whole time, teaching him quite a few little tips not found in the textbooks.
After they finished, she even picked a handful of raspberries from the greenhouse for Soren to eat, telling him that Dumbledore had strongly requested them to be planted because he loved this flavor of jam the most.
Soren nodded obediently, remembering this little detail.
Afterwards, watching the students walk into the classroom one after another, Professor Sprout spoke faster to him: "Thank you, good child, you have helped me a lot. Let me think, how should I reward you..."
Soren hurriedly held up the raspberries he hadn't finished eating, claiming that this was already great and he didn't need anything else.
"That won't do, child, that won't do!"
Professor Sprout shook her head stubbornly and suddenly began to hum softly: "Hufflepuff felt that only the most diligent and hardworking are qualified to enter the house. If we don't reward the diligent, wouldn't that be encouraging laziness?
Oh—I've decided, I will add one point for the kindness you showed by offering to help, and another point for your diligence and hard work. It's a pity that spell proficiency is not within the scope of the Herbology Class assessment, otherwise your skilled use of Scourgify and the Levitation Charm would also deserve a point!"
"That is already a lot, thank you, Professor!"
Soren now understood why Professor Sprout had been voted [Most Popular Professor] for many years; she was truly super gentle and friendly!
Not long after, as class time approached, the Slytherinsnakes and the Ravenclaws gathered together again.
Soren had long occupied a good spot closest to Professor Sprout and turned his head to look at the troublemakers of his own house.
Noticing his gaze, Malfoy immediately put on a sour face and turned his head away haughtily.
Pansy and the other two first-tier pure-blood students were also not very friendly toward him.
On the contrary, Daphne smiled at him unexpectedly, and the other two roommates nodded slightly in response.
These were all positive changes brought about by last night's conflict.
Because he won, others' attitudes toward him had shifted, though it was still very subtle for now.
As for that loser—
He had already been squeezed out of the core circle, turning from a bully into an outsider.
When Soren looked over, he was surprised to see that the troublemaker still seemed a bit unconvinced, so he had to glare at him again.
Blaise lowered his head in panic, not daring to look at him again.
Soren was satisfied now.
Heh, you little brat, knowing pain after getting beaten means you can still be saved.
Considering he was just a child who had lost face, he, being the bigger person, would not hold it against him.
A few minutes later, the class bell rang.
The first-year students of the two houses welcomed their first Herbology Class class, which was... even more boring than imagined.
Yes, although everyone loved the good-natured Professor Sprout, this class was truly very boring.
The "Screaming Mandrake" that left the deepest impression on Soren was a dangerous plant that could only be encountered in the second year. The first-year students' study plan was to understand the most basic plant knowledge in the magic world.
Daisies, ginger, nettles, lavender—these plants were so safe that they were uninteresting, yet they were the only ones they could get their hands on.
Professor Sprout taught them how to identify the ripeness of herbs, how to collect the roots of daisies and ginger without damaging their medicinal properties, and so on; it was all repetitive, low-effort work that didn't require much brainpower.
Soren faintly heard some students in Slytherin complaining that this was "farm work" and did not fit their noble wizard status.
In the Ravenclaw group opposite, there were also many new students who looked resistant, moving slowly and unwilling to let their hands touch the soil.
Soren was different; the farming genes ingrained in the bones of the Chinese people made him enjoy the process of harvesting crops. When the basket beside him slowly filled up, that sense of fulfillment made him smile from the heart.
For this, Professor Sprout added another point for him, because—she could tell who was truly passionate about plants.
Malfoy looked at his hands, which he had dirtied in order to get extra points, and in a moment of carelessness, he snapped the daisy root and splashed mud onto his clothes, making him even more furious.
After the lunch break, the first class of the afternoon was still Herbology Class.
They did another hour and a half of farm work, which was said to be preparing raw materials for Potion Class.
After class, the score gap between Soren and Malfoycontinued to widen to 18:3, which made the latter completely unable to sit still.
Soren Reed and Magic Library: Chapter 68 - Snape: Is this Potion Class necessary?
"Damn guy!"
"He only knows how to act cute and curry favor with the professors!"
In the Slytherin Common Room, Malfoy paced back and forth anxiously, but not wanting others to see his anxiety, he could only keep drinking water to cover it up.
He was truly numb; in a class like Herbology Class with no technical content, Soren could still squeeze out three points and continue to expand his lead.
That was 18 points!
Three days, 18 points—how crazy was this!
If he didn't think of a way, he wouldn't be far from a crushing defeat.
The single room didn't matter, but his authority and leadership status among the first years would inevitably be threatened, which was what he found most unbearable.
If he really lost, he didn't know how he would face his parents; just thinking of their disappointed eyes—
No!
He couldn't think about that; he hadn't lost yet!
Damn Soren, he was just a guy who knew how to study hard and curry favor with professors; he still had a trump card to turn the tide—
"Crabbe, Goyle, I'm going out. You two don't need to follow; just wait for me in the lounge."
With a casual order, Malfoy left his two confused sidekicks and grabbed his Potion Class textbook, hurrying out of the common room.
—He was going to find Snape!
Long before enrollment, his father had told him that if he encountered difficulties, he could go to Snape for help; the two of them had some friendship and were old acquaintances.
Now, it was time to use the family network.
Damn Soren, don't think that just because you know how to curry favor with the professors, you can surely beat me.
Snape is the Head of Slytherin!
*
While Malfoy was taking active measures, Soren was studying in the Library as always.
After checking in for three consecutive days, he and Hermione had become familiar faces to Madam Pince and the students who often came to the Library.
Seeing them sitting in this corner every day, those students spontaneously left this spot for them, which could be considered a kind of mutual appreciation among scholars.
He studied diligently until eight o'clock in the evening.
Before the Library closed, Soren returned a few history reference books to Hermione, happily telling her that he had finished reading them all.
Hermione stared at him silently for a long time, suddenly feeling immense pressure...
Nothing worth mentioning happened that night; following his biological clock, Soren studied until three in the morning and then fell into a sound sleep.
*
In the blink of an eye, it was Crazy Thursday!
It had nothing to do with a certain fast-food chain; this "crazy" stemmed from the schedule that made the freshmen wail in despair.
Slytherin first year had five major classes today...
Five classes!!
Morning: Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts; Afternoon: Charms Class, Flying Class; Evening: History of Magic.
Simply insane!
The only consolation was that there was no Flying Classthe first week, barely leaving them some rest time.
Even so, it still made them collapse from the classes.
Even Soren had a hard time, because Quirrell was pressuring him again, messing with his mentality.
After a hard day of struggle, he barely managed to get six points.
The reason was that the freshmen's course progress was not fast; the first Transfiguration class taught them to turn a match into a needle, and the second class was still the same content, which was said to continue for several classes until all students mastered the basics of Transfiguration.
Soren's technique was certainly outstanding, but he could only get the maximum bonus of three points the first time he performed it.
After that, the stable source of points was only actively answering questions and excellent homework; to earn house points quickly, he would have to wait for the next knowledge point.
Malfoy also realized this and, by frantically raising his hand to answer questions, also got three points. The missing point was because he couldn't hold on during the History of Magic class...
*
Finally, it was Friday, the day the little snakes looked forward to the most.
Not only because the weekend was after today, but also because there were two Potion Class sessions in the morning—taught by the supposedly protective Head of House, Snape, and it was with the Gryffindors.
After the warnings from the upperclassmen, everyone clearly realized that Gryffindor was their biggest competitor.
As long as they defeated them, this year's House Cup would be secure!
Therefore, they specifically arrived at the Potion Classclassroom early, occupying half of the classroom, ready to fight the Gryffindors to the death.
However, Potion Class was one of the few that used a two-person grouping method.
Slytherin only had fifteen students, so one person was bound to sit alone, and this "lucky one" was naturally Soren.
Soren was too lazy to play petty tricks with a bunch of troublemakers and sat in the front row as usual.
When the little lions arrived, he waved gently and summoned the best deskmate—Miss Granger!
Hermione felt a bit awkward under the gazes of others, but after eating with Soren every day, she had practiced a bit and sat beside him without changing her expression, opening her textbook to review.
When the class bell rang and the Potion Class professor pushed the door open to enter, the first thing he saw was that red and green combination in the front row, and his blood pressure fluctuated a bit at that moment.
It was these two again...
Not only were they causing trouble for him in the Great Hall every day, but they even chased him into the classroom!
And Harry Potter...
The three little brats who annoyed him the most were all together today...
Walking up to the podium with big strides, Snapeslammed the textbook onto the desk with a bang and started taking attendance with a gloomy face.
Everyone could see that this professor didn't seem to be in a good mood and responded cautiously.
After confirming that no one was late, Snape put down the roster and slowly swept his gaze across the classroom.
Any student who met his gaze was intimidated by his hollow, cold, pitch-black eyes; let alone making small moves, they didn't even dare to breathe.
Chapter 46
With just a single glance, Snape effortlessly took control of the classroom order.
Immediately, he began his classic opening speech: "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. I know that because there is no foolish wand-waving, some of you will hardly believe this is magic..."
After using several parallel sentences to describe the beauty and wonder of potions, he delivered that arrogant, mocking line: "—But, there is one condition: you must not be the kind of dunderheads I so often have to deal with."
As his voice fell, the classroom was plunged into silence.
Most students felt uneasy, able to sense the sharp tongue and severity of the Potion Class professor from just these words.
Yet there were some students who, far from being afraid, were eager to prove themselves, such as Hermione!
Soren Reed leaned back slightly in his chair, turning his head to look at Hermione, watching her tense up with anxious eagerness, looking adorable as if she were about to stand up and rush to answer a question at any second.
That competitive, stubborn look, paired with her bushy, tangled hair, really made her look like a little lion with its fur standing on end—no, that's not right, she should be a lion-cat!
What a pity, she was destined to meet her Waterloo today.
Snape would never call on her; his favorite, of course, was—
"Soren Reed—"
A low roar filled with fury rang out, calling his name.
Soren Reed was stunned and turned his head to look forward.
Snape was looking at him too, or more accurately, glaring at him!
Soren Reed and the Magic Library: Chapter 69 Snape: My turn, Gryffindor loses points!
Standing at the podium, Snape could see everything that happened in the classroom clearly.
All the students were intimidated by his opening speech, and while they were looking forward, there was one who didn't fear death, actually daring to turn his head to the side!
Not looking at the teacher in class, but looking at your female seatmate, right!?
Combined with the mess Soren Reed had been making over the past few days, Snape was burning with rage, shifting his primary target of attack from Harry Potter to him!
Facing the old bat's man-eating gaze, Soren Reedappeared very calm, rising composedly: "I am here, Professor."
"Answer the question!" Snape began to brew his venom, "What potions can nettles be used to make?"
Soren Reed's heart stirred; this point of knowledge had been taught in Herbology Class yesterday.
"Dried nettles can be used to make Swelling Solution and boil-cure potion, and nettle essence can be used to make sleeping draughts or hypnotics.—Professor."
"If you needed some Aspidistra, where would you go to look for it?"
"Aspidistra is a perennial evergreen herb named for its unique appearance; it is relatively common in swamps.—Professor" Soren Reed answered perfectly again.
Other students couldn't help but whisper to each other; they had thought "Aspidistra" was some kind of animal material.
Snape's expression improved slightly, but he still wasn't satisfied: "How should one obtain Ashwinder eggs?"
"An Ashwinder lives for only one hour, laying its eggs in concealed places before crumbling into dust. Ashwinder eggs must be found and frozen in time, or they will ignite a fire capable of burning down a house within minutes.—Professor"
Soren Reed answered the question above and beyond, adding ecological information about Ashwinders.
"..."
Snape pursed his lips, ultimately not continuing, because the last question had actually been out of the syllabus and was not in the first-year curriculum.
"Sit down."
"Very well, Professor."
Watching Soren Reed safe and sound, the other students cast looks of admiration.
But they all forgot the saying: when the city gate catches fire, the fish in the moat suffer.
Snape had failed to teach Soren Reed a lesson, so he turned and vented his anger on the other students: "Why aren't you writing this down? Have you all memorized it already!"
The students felt a chill down their spines and hurriedly lowered their heads to take notes.
Snape took a deep breath, suddenly remembering something, and looked at the school robe Soren Reed was wearing.
The green lining—
"Thorough pre-class preparation; two points to Slytherin."
Business is business; when it came to awarding points to his own house, Snape never went soft!
Malfoy, who had just been watching Soren Reed make a fool of himself and thought he had successfully built a connection, suddenly couldn't laugh anymore...
"Harry Potter—"
Without waiting for the students to finish writing, Snapespoke again, with a hint of gnashing, grinding annoyance.
Harry Potter's fingers trembled, and his quill nearly punctured the parchment. Then, under Weasley's "good luck" gaze, he stood up, his whole body stiff.
"Answer me, what is the method and key point for preparing Horned Slugs?"
Harry Potter's vision went dark; he hadn't previewed the textbook: "I don't know, Professor..."
"How do you distinguish between venomous and non-venomous snake fangs?"
"I don't know, Professor..."
"What potions can Ginger Root be used to make? Which maturity level is most effective?"
"I, I don't know, Professor... However, I think Hermioneshould know the answer, why don't you—"
"Shut up!" Snape sternly interrupted him, "You didn't even preview before class, you don't remember the knowledge points taught in Herbology Class, and you dare to talk back to the teacher; three points from Gryffindor! Sit down!"
Harry Potter sat down with a look of despair, not daring to look at the eyes of the other students.
He... he had lost three points for his house right off the bat.
Snape really didn't like him; no, it should be that he hated him; he had noticed it during the Sorting Ceremony.
Weasley, who was beside him, was just about to comfort his good brother when he heard his own name.
"Weasley!"
"!?"
"How many steps are there to make an infusion of Wormwood?"
"..."
"You don't know? Then you have the nerve to smile? Another point from Gryffindor!"
Weasley sat down as well, forming a pair of miserable brothers with Harry Potter.
In the next ten minutes or so, Snape displayed his superb venomous tongue, outputting crazily, and deducted another two points from Gryffindor.
The treatment on the Slytherin side was completely different; Malfoy only answered a simple question and gained a point.
The little lions of Gryffindor were immediately filled with righteous indignation, but they dared not talk back to the teacher and could only sulk.
Potion Class continued, and Snape told everyone to prepare their wands, open their textbooks, and instructed them to prepare a very simple potion, specifically emphasizing—even the stupidest person should be able to learn it!
It was exactly the boil-cure potion that Soren Reed had just answered about.
The recipe was: snake fangs, Horned Slugs, porcupine quills, and dried nettles.
The workstations in Potion Class were shared by two people, but every student had to operate independently to prevent anyone from slacking off.
The students took out the cauldrons and matching tools they had bought before school started, put on their protective gloves, and then went to the podium to collect their respective potion ingredients.
For this step, Snape's method was very crude; he prepared four large containers, piled all the materials together, and let the students choose for themselves.
This meant that when students collected materials, they had to distinguish the authenticity and quality of the materials themselves, which was very unfriendly to poor students.
Hermione had originally wanted to help her housemates select, but after being glared at coldly by Snape, she retreated angrily.
When it was Soren Reed's turn, he spent twice as much time as others selecting materials.
What the other students found incredible was that the hot-tempered Snape actually didn't say anything to him, just watched coldly from the sidelines.
Once everyone had received their potion materials, the practical operation officially began.
First, place 6 snake fangs into a mortar and grind them into powder.
As the students began their work, Snape also started walking around the classroom to inspect, telling them in a tone that sounded more like a threat: "Listen carefully, Potions is a subject that demands the utmost precision and adheres to the strictest techniques. If I find anyone who dares to change the recipe without authorization or disregard the operating steps—"
His gaze became even gloomier, sweeping over the anxious faces, "Then you might have to visit him in the Hospital Wing! Remember—strictly follow the process steps!"
The more he emphasized this, the more panicked the students became.
Out of the corner of his eye, Soren Reed saw someone who hadn't even ground the snake fangs evenly before pouring them into a tray for later use.
—That would obviously lead to a greatly reduced effect of the potion, or even failure in the making.
But... without these green leaves as a backdrop, how could the invincible Lord Soren Reed get the highest score!
Grind, grind, grind, grind hard, grind evenly.
Only when the snake fangs turned into a fine powder and there was not a hint of graininess when rubbed, did he satisfy himself by completing the first step of the preparation process.
Next was to process the remaining three materials...
Chop the dried nettles evenly, boil the Horned Slugs, and simply wash the porcupine quills for later use.
After everything was finished, it was finally time for the brewing phase.
Preheat the cauldron for 1 minute.
Pour in an appropriate amount of pure water, add 4 portions of snake fang powder with a small spoon, heat on high for 10 seconds, add a little dried nettle, turn to medium heat and heat until boiling and smoking, then add 4 Horned Slugs.
The steps in the book were written clearly, but when actually operating, Soren Reed's brow gradually furrowed, and he sensed a trace of anomaly.
How did he feel that the steps in this book were too crude, always saying "appropriate amount" or "a little," just like the recipes of those old cooks, not precise at all.
But Snape repeatedly emphasized—potions-making is a subject that demands the utmost precision.
Then why was this textbook so imprecise?
Soren Reed and the Magic Library: Chapter 70 There is a kind of touch, called—seeing one's former self...
This doubt was partially answered when adding the dried nettles.
As the chopped dried nettles fell into the cauldron, the originally grayish-white liquid rapidly turned green, as if a coloring agent had been added.
Soren Reed remembered the requirements in the book; this step was to turn the potion into a transparent emerald color.
Therefore, he tried his best to lighten his movements, adding the dried nettles little by little with a small spoon.
But problems followed—he had no previous experience in brewing potions, and it was hard to grasp the measure of "a little."
When he carefully controlled the amount added and started stirring, he found that some of the previously added dried nettles hadn't completely melted and were deposited at the bottom of the cauldron.
Now that he stirred it, the dried nettles had indeed melted, but the transparent luster the potion had before was gone.
This was clearly adding too much...
He wavered between starting over and continuing to the next step, choosing to continue downwards.
Because he had a faint premonition that adding too much dried nettle was definitely not the only mistake he would make.
As expected, he had all kinds of small problems in the subsequent steps; although he followed the steps written in the book strictly, the final finished boil-cure potionappeared as a thick, dark green, which didn't look very good at all.
But Soren Reed was not annoyed at all; he picked up his quill with a thoughtful look and wrote furiously in the blank spaces of the page, recording his insights and guesses.
During the brewing of the potion, some wonderful intuitions would pop into his mind from time to time, telling him which step was not quite right, that the amount of potion material was problematic, or that the speed of stirring or the depth of the stirring rod inserted into the liquid was not quite right.
Generally, when this kind of intuition popped up, the subsequent changes would verify the correctness of the intuition.
This gave Soren Reed a vague guess that needed to be verified again.
After taking notes, he glanced at his stock of medicinal materials.
Snape allowed each person to take three portions of materials, and considering that brewing once takes about thirty minutes, these materials were just enough to last until the end of class at noon.
That is to say, each student had three chances to complete this simplest potion.
Since time and materials were still enough, then why not—
"Scourgify!"
Soren Reed waved his wand, using the cleaning spell to wipe away the inferior potion in the cauldron, carefully cleaned the cauldron, and prepared to try again.
Hermione, who was on the side, also completed the brewing at this time; relying on the unique delicacy of girls, the finished product was slightly better than Soren Reed's, but it still didn't reach the standard in the book.
Strange... I followed the steps strictly, but I still feel like something is missing..."
Hermione clearly had the same doubts as him, holding the textbook and checking the steps repeatedly, her eyes full of confusion.
Suddenly, a deliberate cough came from a nearby workstation.
Both turned their heads in unison and saw Malfoy looking smug.
He held up the potion he had brewed, showing it off like a peacock. The color of that potion was about eighty percent similar to the illustration in the book, though slightly murky.
Other students nearby also noticed he was the first to finish the potion and let out a small gasp of admiration.
Snape strode over, picked up Malfoy's potion to examine it, gave a blank-faced evaluation of "It's passable," and added a point to his house.
Malfoy beamed, feeling he had finally beaten Soren Reedfor once. It was worth it that he had gone to Snape on Wednesday, swallowing his pride to ask for private instruction, and practicing several times in advance using materials from his office.
Soren Reed glanced at his potion a few times, turned back nonchalantly, and continued his preparations.
Soon after, it was break time.
Soren Reed went to the washroom to splash his face, returned to the classroom refreshed, and when the bell rang, he began to work right on time.
Preheat the cauldron... pour in water... add snake fangs powder... heat over a high flame for 10 seconds, and then came the critical step: adding dried nettles.
This time, he placed the stirring rod into the cauldron beforehand and did something not written in the book—he wrapped the stirring rod with his own magic, just like he used to practice "telekinesis" in private.
In an instant, his perception seemed to extend, allowing him to observe the state of the potion through the stirring rod.
It was a very strange sensation; his consciousness seemed to immerse into the potion, seeing the snake fangs powder rising and falling in the water. This material, added early, had not dissolved into the water, which was why the potion appeared grayish-white.
As he added dried nettles with his other hand, a wonderful reaction occurred in the cauldron.
The snake fangs powder met the dried nettles, both shattering and melting simultaneously, turning into a green substance that dyed the pure water green as well.
This phenomenon gave him a sense of déjà vu, like performing a chemistry experiment.
At the same time, that mysterious intuition returned, reminding him in his mind—"Not enough, you need more dried nettles!"
He added two small spoonfuls, and his intuition said again—"Enough, enough, adding more will be too much!"
Soren Reed stopped abruptly and put back the remaining dried nettles in the small spoon.
According to the steps in the book, he had to stir counter-clockwise three and a half times, which felt like a magical ritual.
The magic-infused stirring rod stirred slowly, feeding back the changes in the potion to him in minute detail.
The speed of stirring, the depth of the rod, and the temperature of the potion all affected the fusion of the two potion ingredients.
Once again, Soren Reed suffered from his lack of experience; in order to test the optimal speed and depth, his potion failed to maintain the perfect emerald color.
But it didn't matter; he had already memorized the key, and it would definitely be put to use next time!
After the cauldron started to smoke and boil, he added four horned slugs.
The previous mixture reacted with the new material again, another wonderful fusion. Then, he extinguished the flame under the cauldron.
When the potion cooled to lukewarm, he added two porcupine quills, stirred five times clockwise, and finally waved his wand to complete the potion.
The color of the potion was set, a glowing green with a gel-like texture. Just by the looks of it, it was much better than Malfoy's bottle; it was exactly like the picture in the book!
Malfoy, who had been secretly watching him, couldn't hold it together anymore. He scrambled to set up his cauldron again, intending to remake a more perfect one.
In the back of the classroom, Snape had just finished scolding an idiot who had brewed an unknown blue potion. Turning around, he saw the potion in Soren Reed's cauldron, raised an eyebrow, and strode over.
Just as he reached behind Soren Reed and before he could reach out, he saw Soren Reed wave his wand and cast... Scourgify!?
That's right, Soren Reed had dumped the potion again—because a perfectionist could not accept an imperfect result. Even if the final attempt couldn't earn points, he had to try again to apply his new insights to practice.
Speaking of insights... a bad pen is better than a good memory! Soren Reed quickly picked up his quill and scribbled rapidly on the textbook, recording all his inspiration and takeaways.
Snape looked intently—the lines above were thoughts on each key step, as well as the wonderful intuition and insights gained during the two brewing sessions. The lines below were small tips tested out, marked with "Pending verification."
By the standards of a Potions Master, these insights still had quite a few loopholes and were not perfect.
But if the one who wrote these was a freshman brewing Potions for the first time—
Snape's already deep eyes became even more unfathomable, and the iconic arrogance and contempt on his face faded ever so slightly.
—Then he must be a young wizard with excellent talent for Potions. Given time, he might just become another PotionsMaster!
And this habit of taking notes in the textbook also reminded him of someone.
A familiar person... someone who realized their own talent for Potions, took pride in it, kept moving forward on this path, and finally won achievement and honor...—himself.
Soren Reed and the Magic Library: Chapter 71 PotionsGenius—Soren Reed!
Soren Reed didn't have eyes in the back of his head, and plus, he was immersed in the joy of unraveling the mysteries of Potions, so he didn't notice Snape behind him at all. Hermione's subtle reminder was also completely missed by him; his heart and eyes were filled only with Potions.
After quickly finishing his notes, he immediately cleaned the cauldron, prepared the potion ingredients, and got ready for his third attempt.
"Inhale... exhale... inhale... exhale..."
He took a few deep breaths to help his concentration.
He began a series of fluid operations—preheating, adding water, adding snake fangs powder, heating over a high flame, adding dried nettles, stirring counter-clockwise, heating over a medium flame until boiling and smoking, adding horned slugs, extinguishing the flame to cool, stirring clockwise, adding porcupine quills, and waving his wand to finish.—Success!
In the cauldron, the potion presented a vibrant, verdant color with a jelly-like texture. A gentle poke with the stirring rod made it wobble—it actually looked somewhat appetizing...
Of course, this was a potion for treating boils, measles, pustules, and other symptoms of lymphatic tuberculosis, so it certainly couldn't be used indiscriminately.
While thinking about whether this potion had a market in the Muggle World and how to price it, Soren Reed waved his wand, using a brilliant Levitation Charm to pour the potion into a vial.
Afterward, he couldn't help but lift the vial, intending to hold it up to the light to admire his masterpiece. This magnificent color felt even better than the example picture in the textbook—it must be a great success, right?
Unexpectedly, just as he lifted the vial, a large hand descended from above and snatched the vial away. Soren Reed was startled, followed the hand with his eyes, and finally discovered Snape behind him; he didn't know how long he had been standing there.
"Professor?"
"..."
Snape didn't respond to him, focused on checking the quality of this bottle of boil-cure potion.
He gently shook the vial, checked the sediment inside, and made a comprehensive judgment based on aspects like color, texture, and scent, giving a final evaluation—"Not bad. It hasn't reached the quality of a masterpiece, but it can be put on the shelves of an ordinary store."
Hearing this evaluation, Soren Reed simultaneously opened the achievement system that only he could see to check his Potions-related achievements.
[White Achievement · Potions Apprentice (Locked)]
[Unlock Condition: Successfully brew a potion, any grade is acceptable, quality points must reach 1000.]
[Unlock Progress: 6/1000]
[Quality Points: Apprentice (1 point), Ordinary (2 points), High Quality (3 points), Masterpiece (5 points), Master (10 points), Soren's Quality (Unknown).]
Three Potions, 6 points—it was exactly 1+2+3. Looking at it this way, he was progressing rapidly!
Most importantly, he had gained another bit of inspiration during his third attempt—a wizard's magic didn't just participate in the potion brewing during the final stage, but from the very beginning, acting as a catalyst.
This was also why, after years of hard training and specializing in fine control, he was able to perceive the barely detectable magic being injected into the potion with every operation of his.
He didn't know how to optimize this step yet, but once he mastered this, surely his Potions could advance to the masterpiece level!
As for the even later Master and Soren's Quality levels, he knew they would be super difficult, so he couldn't be overly ambitious.
Pulling his drifting thoughts back, Soren Reed closed the achievement page and happened to meet Snape's gaze, seeing a trace of distraction in his eyes.
Unfortunately, that expression flashed by, and he wasn't sure if he had seen it wrong.
When he looked again, the Potions professor had returned to his usual state and was preparing to speak to him.
However, a loud explosion suddenly rang out from the back of the classroom, followed by the students' screams.
Snape looked up sharply to see Seamus's cauldron had turned into a twisted lump, and the unfinished potion was splattered everywhere, flowing on the stone floor.
The students nearby were standing on their chairs in terror, some still scrambling to take off their shoes.
Neville, who sat at the same table as Seamus, was even worse off; he was splashed all over with the potion, and red, swollen boils quickly erupted on his exposed skin, making him wail in pain.
Snape's complexion, which had just improved, turned ashen again. He roared and rushed over in a fury: "Idiots! Add the porcupine quills after cooling—can you not read English—!"
He waved his wand furiously to clean up the potion, and then instructed the unscathed Seamus to take Neville to the hospital wing.
Before they left, Snape saw the boil-cure potion in his hand and handed it over: "Take this; it will come in handy. You two Trolls—"
Just like that, the potion Soren Reed had brewed himself was taken away and given to others before he could even take a closer look.
Fortunately, Snape didn't forget to add points to his own house: "A high-quality potion, quite good for a beginner. Three points to Slytherin!"
He also took the opportunity to deduct points from Gryffindor: "Stupid mistakes, changing the steps without authorization. One point from Gryffindor! No, two points—one for each of those two idiots!"
The little lions let out a collective wail.
Snape glanced at them coldly: "There are twenty minutes left before class ends. Those who haven't finished, hurry up. Before class ends, everyone must hand in a finished potion."
No one wailed anymore; everyone returned to their cauldrons, hoping that their final attempt would be successfully completed.
But this was clearly not an easy task.
Until class ended, only a few people had made a qualified potion.
Among them, Hermione's finished product was the closest to the ordinary quality, but Snape didn't give her points, the reason being—Soren Reed had made a better one.
Hermione was instantly depressed.
Malfoy was equally depressed; his second version of the potion was clearly better than the first, but let alone Soren Reed, he couldn't even beat Hermione. After hesitating repeatedly, he still didn't have the nerve to bring it out to claim credit.
In the end, except for the potion of Soren Reed's that was taken away for use, everyone else's Potions were poured into the waste bucket for harmless treatment.
Snape's contemptuous gaze deeply hurt the hearts of the little ones. Especially the little lions, who were deducted points until they doubted their own lives, and even more so, whether the senior students would beat them up...
After two Potions classes, the statistics were—Slytherin House gained eight points, Gryffindor House lost eight points.
Adding up, it was exactly zero, but House Cup points were obviously not calculated this way.
After class, not long after leaving the Potions classroom, the little lions of Gryffindor began to complain in the cold, damp underground corridor, believing that the Potionsprofessor was biased toward his own house and unreasonable.
As they spoke, they started arguing with each other, blaming those classmates who had lost points for the house.
Seamus and Neville were not here, so they escaped unscathed.
The Harry and Ron duo, who had jointly slashed four points, became the perfect punching bags, scolded until their faces were red, yet unable to talk back.
The passing little snakes were happy to watch the show, not forgetting to mock them a few times, which triggered a war of words between the two houses.
Soren Reed was naturally too disdainful to participate in such primary school-level arguments, but his feat of single-handedly raking in five points was too dazzling, still attracting the attention of the little lions.
Unfortunately, most of it was hostility.
Even Hermione beside him was called a "traitor to Gryffindor" by the boys, making her furious; she retorted by accusing them of not preparing before class, even though she had reminded them.
The terrible atmosphere lasted until the Great Hall, when the first-years of the two houses finally separated.
At lunch that day, only Soren Reed and Hermione sat together; even Harry and Ron didn't come to find them.
The afternoon Herbology Class class was with Ravenclaw, which had nothing special to mention.
Soren Reed got another point, changing the freshman competition score to—9:29.
Chapter 48: The gap has further widened to 20 points!
Soren Reed and the Magic Library: Chapter 72: Everyone says that Soren is definitely Snape's favorite student.
After class, Soren volunteered to stay behind to help Professor Sprout with cleaning. Although he didn't earn any points, he received a basket full of fresh strawberries as a return gift; they were bright red and looked delicious.
He asked the professor for an extra small basket, divided the strawberries into two portions, and happily headed to the Library.
Carefully avoiding the patrolling Madam Pince, Soren snuck into the Library with the food.
The Gryffindor first-years had no classes for the entire Friday afternoon. Miss Granger was already waiting at their usual spot, flipping through a tutorial book on basic potions.
When Soren placed the basket of freshly picked strawberries in front of her, her mood improved slightly, though there was still a trace of annoyance between her brows.
Seeing that she was in a bad mood, Soren asked casually, "What's wrong? Did you guys end up arguing again?"
Hermione rolled her eyes, laid the book in her hand flat on the table, and lowered her voice to complain to him:
"Don't even mention it. We were heading to the common room after lunch. Percy somehow found out about the first-years getting injured and losing a lot of house points, so he blocked the door and gave everyone a thorough scolding."
"Then the boys started blaming and arguing with each other, driving away the students who had lost the points. But they don't stop to think—haven't they lost points for the house before too?"
"Some lost points for breaking discipline in class, some for not previewing or listening, and others for copying homework without even changing the names—I'm honestly speechless!"
"I've told them so many times, so many times! I told them not to just play after class and to at least consolidate what they've learned, but not only do they not listen, they think I'm being meddlesome! All day long they just play those wizarding games, holding a piece and babbling mindlessly—it's so stupid!"
Soren wanted to laugh, so he quickly reminded her to keep her voice down and not disturb the witch.
Hermione tried hard to control her emotions, but her intolerance for stupidity still broke through: "Sometimes, I really don't understand why they came here. This is a school! A place to learn knowledge! Even if you want to make friends, you should at least learn the material first!!"
Once her emotions flared up, she couldn't keep her volume down, and a flush appeared on her face.
Soren looked at her sympathetically.
Although there is a saying—a young girl's blush is better than any love confession.
But the flush caused by anger obviously didn't have that kind of aesthetic appeal.
Just as he was about to reach out and pet Hermione to help her calm down, someone acted before him.
Silently, the light in the Library suddenly dimmed.
No, to be precise, only the corner where Soren and Hermione were sitting darkened.
A thick, long, large, and furry stick-like shadow loomed over their heads.
They looked up in surprise and uncertainty, seeing the murderous-looking Madam Pince and her feather duster, which was undefeated throughout the Library.
The witch—she had indeed been disturbed...
Hermione, who had been indignant just a moment ago, instantly became well-behaved, put her hands together, and promised her she wouldn't do it again.
Soren also followed suit and prayed, his attitude sincere.
Madam Pince glared at them for a good while before magnanimously letting them off, warning, "No loud noises in the Library!"
"And no eating!" She pointed at the strawberries placed in the corner of the table.
After both of them obediently agreed, the Damocles-like duster hanging above their heads slowly moved away, sparing their lives.
After watching Madam Pince walk away, Hermione quickly patted her chest to soothe her pounding little heart.
Soren glanced at her sideways and suddenly realized that he didn't seem to need to help her calm down anymore; Madam Pince's fear therapy was exceptionally effective!
After thinking about it, he still advised: "Don't be too strict with them. Think about it—they're just a group of eleven-year-old children who have just left their families' supervision. Hogwarts' staff is so scarce, and they don't have time to manage everything. Upon arriving at a boarding school, they've suddenly let loose, so it's inevitable that they'll mess around for a while."
"But aren't we also eleven-year-old children?" Hermioneretorted.
"How can that be the same? How many children have the self-control that you and I have?"
Soren reasoned with her, "You always try to lecture them, which will only trigger their rebellious psychology. Because your behavior is just like... like... right, like a grade dean! Students are most afraid of them!"
Hermione's cheeks puffed up again, but this time she was pretending to be angry.
—She genuinely thought grade deans were actually quite cool!
"Trying to get a group of children who might not have even attended primary school to obey rules is no less difficult than stuffing your own thoughts into someone else's head. If you really have that goal, then I suggest you first become a Prefect, then run for Head Boy or Girl, and after graduation, become the Minister of Magic. That way, everyone will obediently listen to you!"
"Hmph—"
Faced with Soren's long-winded speech, the proud Miss Granger responded with a soft hmph.
Originally, this matter should have passed, but Soren still wanted to tease her: "Speaking of which, you see them all playing; don't you want to go play too?"
Unlike himself, Hermione was truly only eleven years old, and the diligence and self-control she displayed were amazing.
Hermione hesitated for a moment, then suddenly asked him: "Then if I go play, what about being first in the grade?"
Good question...
Soren showed her a profile, pretending not to hear.
Jokes are jokes, but when it really involves the throne of first in the grade, even if it's Hermione, she has to step back. Isn't it better to honestly just be second in the grade?
Hermione saw the answer on his face, her eyes immediately narrowed, and she put on an "I knew it would be like this" expression.
And because the two of them stuck together every day and were really very familiar, the side of her that belonged to Gryffindor began to rise. She quietly gathered strength and poked Soren with her elbow, making him stagger.
Soren grimaced and rubbed his side, not expecting that his first attack at Hogwarts would actually come from his best friend.
What a shameful betrayal!
In the spirit of gender equality, he had originally wanted to launch a counterattack. But Madam Pince, who was passing by on patrol again, warned him with her eyes—no roughhousing in the Library!
Soren could only endure it, recording today's betrayal in his book of grudges, waiting to take revenge later.
After the topic of the Gryffindor infighting ended, Hermione remembered what happened in Potion Classand held out her small hand to him: "Hurry up and lend me your "Magical Drafts and Potions"; I saw you taking notes!"
"You actually managed to resist not looking during class?" Soren was a little surprised, lowered his head to pick up his schoolbag, and started searching for the textbook.
Hermione twitched her mouth: "Don't mention it. At that time, Snape was standing right behind you, watching you brew the potion. I was so nervous that my hands were stiff; how could I dare to lean over and see what you wrote..."
"...The whole time?"
Soren handed her the textbook, really quite surprised.
If Snape had been staring at him the whole time, that would have been more than twenty minutes...
Hermione nodded affirmatively: "Everyone says now that you must be Snape's favorite student; otherwise, why would he pay so much attention to you and award you so many points."
Soren thought about it and readily accepted this evaluation.
He was indeed in urgent need of a private tutor, preferably one who could teach one-on-one to help him quickly improve his strength. Snape... was indeed a very good candidate!
Soren Reed and the Magic Library: Chapter 73: Soren: What do you mean—I caused the Gryffindor first-year infighting?
Opening the textbook, Hermione automatically switched to scholar mode, reading the class notes Soren had written in the margins.
Unlike the picky Potions Master, Hermione was deeply attracted after just one glance. She felt as if she were looking at a secret manual of divine skills; the more she read, the more enlightened she felt, and many doubts found their answers.
The procedural steps in the textbook were not wrong, but they were severely simplified, missing many key details.
"So that's how it is..."
After brewing potions three times in a row, she also had quite a few insights and realizations, but none as profound, concise, and easy to understand as Soren's.
After reading the notes, Hermione finally understood why there was such a big gap between their final products.
It's just—
"Since the amount of water added in the first step and the amount of dried nettles added in the third step are both very important, why does the textbook use vague concepts like 'appropriate amount' and 'a little'?"
"Snape always says that Potions is the most precise subject, so it should strictly regulate the dosage for every step, accurate to milliliters and milligrams. How could it be so casual..."
Soren nodded: "Regarding this question, I have also thought about it repeatedly. For now, I tend to think—this is a form of screening."
"Screening?"
"That's right!" Soren smiled, "Using the simplest potion that first-years can come into contact with, and using the three most basic steps of this potion, to conduct a screening to determine which students have a talent for Potions and which students should stay away from cauldrons forever."
He gave the conclusion first, then explained in detail—
"We have both taken chemistry classes in the Muggle World, so we naturally know what a'solvent' is. In my opinion, pure water, powdered snake fangs, and dried nettles are the materials needed for the basic solvent for the boil-cure potion."
"The textbook has already clearly specified that the dosage of powdered snake fangs is fixed at 4 small spoonfuls. This has actually greatly reduced the difficulty; students only need to balance the amount of water and dried nettles added to make them react completely with the powdered snake fangs to obtain an emerald-colored solvent."
"Those who can't even do this step well, I'm afraid they not only lack talent for Potions but also lack even the most basic inductive reasoning ability. For such people, let alone Snape, I would advise them not to touch a cauldron to avoid killing themselves or others."
A ready example is the old unlucky guy, Neville...
"And once you successfully obtain a high-quality solvent, as long as you strictly follow the steps to proceed, at the very least, you can obtain a qualified-level potion!"
Hermione recalled her experience when she configured the potion for the third time and added the conclusion for him.
"Strictly speaking, the so-called qualified products in class might not even count as ordinary quality. Didn't you see Snape pouring them all away? That means they couldn't be used at all."
Soren's waist still ached, so he maliciously stabbed with his words.
Hermione was indeed hit, revealing an unconvinced look: "I was just careless this time and didn't think that the textbook would deliberately set traps. Just wait, next time I will also be able to brew a high-quality potion!"
In the following half-hour, the unyielding Miss Grangerfully integrated all of Soren's insights, felt that her own Potions level had greatly improved, and looked forward to the next Friday's Potion Class.
Soren didn't hold anything back either, telling her all his various conjectures, and finally said regretfully: "It would be great if we could get some potion materials. As long as we practice more, our Potions level will definitely improve by leaps and bounds."
Hermione, who was still very obedient to school rules, didn't quite agree: "It's better not to. Look at the group with Neville and Seamus; how scary it is. Besides, lower-year students aren't even allowed to go to Hogsmeade Village, so we can't find materials at all."
"I bet there are definitely many free materials in the Forbidden Forest..." Soren said.
Hermione shook her head quickly, stretched out her petite right hand, and spread five fingers: "I heard from a senior that if a student sneaks into the Forbidden Forest and gets caught, they lose at least 50 points!—50 points!"
Looking at her little hand flipping back and forth, Soren indeed realized the seriousness of this matter.
"You're right... At least we have to learn the Disillusionment Charm to be safe going there!"
"Is that what I was talking about!? Who exactly is the Gryffindor here..."
Hermione was amazed at his audacity and forcibly changed the subject, not wanting to discuss with him the hundred little clever ideas for breaking school rules.
After sharing their insights from Potion Class, the two top students returned to the right track, reading their books and doing their homework.
Until eight o'clock in the evening, when they were both chased out of the Library by Madam Pince.
On the way back, Soren took the initiative to invite her: "Let's continue exploring the main castle after breakfast tomorrow morning? I still want to find a relatively private training ground where I can practice spells without interference."
Hermione nodded excitedly in agreement; she also wanted to learn the Non-verbal spell sooner.
Afterwards, the two waved goodbye, one climbing the stairs to the high tower, the other going down the stairs to the dungeon.
*
Entering the underground area, the cold air added a bit more chill to the night.
Since nine o'clock was curfew time and all students had to return to their common rooms, Soren walked along the way with many seniors from his own house.
As the star first-year of his house, the attention and teasing he received were quite substantial.
To his surprise, most of this teasing was good-natured, and some seniors even inexplicably praised him a few times, leaving him a bit confused.
Returning to the front of the common room, the circular stone door slid open to the left.
The blonde-haired, blue-eyed Prefect Cassandra made a brilliant appearance, serving in the glorious role of gatekeeper.
Soren was already accustomed to this, because on every odd-numbered day of the week, she would refresh at the common room on time.
By the way, the male Prefect refreshes on even-numbered days.
Soren queued up with other students to enter the common room, greeted the Prefect politely as he passed by, and prepared to pass through.
Unexpectedly, she beckoned, signaling Soren to come closer to talk.
After Soren approached, Cassandra praised him in a brisk tone: "Not bad, Soren. I heard that all the professors like you very much and have awarded you many points. Keep it up, and you'll soon be able to win the first-year competition."
Soren habitually became modest, claiming that he was just studying quite hard.
Cassandra interrupted him with a light laugh: "No need to be so reserved. This is praise. Those who win honor for the house deserve respect and praise; this is also a Slytherintradition. As for the method... it's actually not that important; what's important is the result."
Soren felt that there was more to her words, but he couldn't figure it out for a moment.
Fortunately, Cassandra subsequently revealed the answer: "I also heard that you successfully caused the Gryffindorfirst-year infighting, disrupting their unity. I must say—well done! I didn't expect that making friends with a little Gryffindor girlfriend could have such a miraculous effect!"
"...Huh?"
Soren was truly bewildered now. What does it mean—that he caused the Gryffindor infighting? Where did this blame come from to be pinned on him!?
"Don't be modest. Many people already know that the Gryffindor Prefect Weasley gave all the first-years a thorough scolding, and then the first-years started arguing among themselves, dividing into two camps of boys and girls."