Silver light flashed. Evans appeared on Hogwarts's first underground level.
Cold, gloomy air enveloped him the moment he materialized. The weather had entered winter, and even though the castle had warming charms, the underground temperature remained chilly.
If it were the Potions classroom, since young wizards lit fires while brewing potions, the air wouldn't be too cold.
But these castle corridors couldn't guarantee such temperatures.
And Snape's office was located at the deepest part of the corridor, in a location far removed from anything remotely pleasant.
Evans didn't know why the castle's original Potions professor had chosen to set up an office here. Later, Potions professors had no intention of changing it either.
But I truly can't understand. The underground ventilation is poor, and the environment is gloomy. What would it be like staying here year-round? Brewing potions in this kind of place every day—wouldn't it drive someone insane?
But honestly, this kind of place really suits the greasy bat.
Evans grumbled internally as he oriented himself, rounded two corners, and pushed open one of the room's doors.
An eerie, terrifying atmosphere rushed at him the moment he entered.
Dark light emanated from the room's four corners, casting dim illumination over potion ingredients placed throughout. Magical creature remains and even skulls hung from the walls, completely covering every exposed surface.
Besides the walls, the room's table also held countless bottles and jars of various sizes. They contained either animal tissues, plant roots and stems, or branches, all soaked in murky liquid until swollen, making the atmosphere even more sinister.
In such a sinister environment, a black-robed man stood by a cauldron, stirring the bubbling grayish-black liquid inside. This pushed the sinister atmosphere to its peak, producing waves of cold sensation.
Any Muggle who'd read fairy tales would think an evil wizard boiling children stood here.
Even just looking at his back, with the greasy bat's long hair, he might even be mistaken for an evil witch!
Moreover, when he spoke, that cold feeling reached its extreme, rushing straight to the head, making Evans involuntarily rub his arms.
"You're here?" Snape stirred the contents of the cauldron and spoke without turning back. "A few more minutes. Find a place to wait."
He said nothing more, concentrating on stirring his pale gray potion.
Evans shrugged. He found one of the few chairs without anything on it, sat down, crossed his legs, and waited for the greasy bat to complete his potion.
Waiting was somewhat boring. He even found a very round little ball on the nearby table and played with it in his hands.
Several minutes later, the gray liquid in the cauldron suddenly stopped boiling and calmed down. Snape finally turned around. Seeing Evans's extremely relaxed posture, he couldn't help the twitch at the corner of his mouth.
However, he was no longer Evans's Head of House and had no grounds to reprimand his behavior.
But not reprimanding didn't mean he couldn't be sarcastic.
"Without even one glance, aren't you afraid this potion might have problems and poison us both to death here?"
Potion brewing, especially with dangerous materials like basilisk eyeballs, could be hazardous if not handled skillfully. Snape didn't think he'd make such basic mistakes, but excuses for mockery didn't need to be precise.
"Of course, I must trust my dear former Head of House." Evans smiled and leaned close to the cauldron.
The liquid inside looked somewhat viscous, emitting a light herbal fragrance, with no strange smell from basilisk eyeballs.
But this potion's color made Evans feel somewhat strange.
Logically, with basilisk eyeballs as the main ingredient, the potion should smell like basilisk blood or scales.
How could it produce this color?
Could there be too many ingredients, various colors mixing together to finally become gray?
He didn't know the petrification potion's specific effects, but the general color should be dark green.
Perhaps seeing Evans's confusion, Snape's lips curled. "I added some Ashwinder powder. It can maintain petrified creatures' vitality while keeping them petrified. The color just looks somewhat different."
"Really?" Evans's expression remained somewhat doubtful as he looked at the pale gray liquid in the cauldron.
"If you don't believe it, go find someone to test it yourself!" Snape waved his hand impatiently and flourished his wand, pouring the potion from the cauldron into test tubes.
"That's unnecessary. I definitely trust your abilities." After Snape finished pouring, Evans took the potion and spoke again. "I remember you've already received an Order of Merlin, Second Class nomination. When do you plan to attend?"
Snape, who was cleaning up, clearly paused. Then he waved his hand as if unconcerned.
"I originally planned to have them send it to me, but from your tone, you plan to attend my award ceremony?"
"Of course! I definitely won't miss your award ceremony!" Evans separated several vials from the petrification potion and pressed them into Snape's hands.
"Here, for you. Consider it your award gift."
Snape looked at the potion in his hands. Emotion flashed in his eyes. After pondering a long moment, he finally spoke softly.
"Then next Sunday."
Honestly, he hadn't previously considered attending the Ministry's award ceremony. After all, he didn't have many friends. Basically, just some pen pals from the potions community, or some so-called "friends" he temporarily didn't want to see.
But if Evans also planned to attend, those so-called "friends" probably wouldn't come, and without those people, he really did want to chat with those pen pals about potions.
Evans definitely doesn't know about those "friends," but his asking indeed solved some problems for me.
Moreover, he's learned to respect his elders. Actually giving me several petrification potions.
The potion was brewed by me, but Evans had already paid compensation and provided such precious materials.
Should I specially send him an invitation?
But just as Snape felt somewhat touched, that young man's voice rang out again.
"Speaking of which, don't you plan to change your living environment? Staying in this place too long will cause mental illness, right?"
"I think you already show some signs. Don't actually go crazy. It'll affect the quality of potions you brew!"
"If you need help, call me anytime! I'm excellent at demolition!"
Veins constantly throbbed on Snape's forehead. He squeezed several words through his teeth.
"Not needed. Get out!"
Heh, Evans Kahn knows how to respect his elders?
I must have slept too much recently. In broad daylight, just after brewing potions, I'm already hallucinating!