Chapter 31: Fury
Severus Snape's mood today couldn't be called good. That weak, cowardly fellow he needed to keep a close eye on had become increasingly unpredictable in recent days.
"Whatever you're trying to do, you'd better pray I don't catch you..." He muttered coldly and turned past the staircase.
At this moment, some faint gurgling sounds attracted his attention. No one in Hogwarts was more familiar with this sound than him—that was the sound of wonderful potions churning and brewing in cauldrons. But he wasn't in the dungeons, which meant the dungeons had been broken into!
He strode swiftly over the stone steps like surging dark clouds, carrying thunder and storm.
"What are you doing!" He swept before Shawn, his tone filled with barely restrained fury. "Audacious! Utterly ignorant!"
Looking at this cauldron exhaling white smoke, looking at these scattered materials, looking again at the liquid in that crystal bottle... How could he not understand what had happened?! Since he began teaching, he had never seen such an audacious young wizard! Brewing potions privately?! Did he think this was some fool's course like Astronomy or History of Magic?! Potions was a precise science and a dangerous craft! With insufficient skill and no supervision, one small mistake was enough to claim a young wizard's life. They wouldn't even have time to react, let alone save themselves!
Shawn's smile froze on his face. He quickly swallowed all surging emotions. He understood—he had triggered the bad ending. Professor Snape had returned just after he finished brewing the potion, before he had time to clean up and leave, catching him red-handed.
"Let me guess. Mr. Green of Ravenclaw believes he possesses outstanding talent in Potions, so much so that he doesn't need guidance at all and believes he can brew a perfect potion..." Professor Snape's voice was like a serpent's hiss—cold and oppressive.
Shawn kept his head down, neither panicking nor explaining. He understood Snape. Explaining equaled suicide—not an exaggeration at all...
"Then let's see his achievement, shall we? Let's see what brilliant results he achieved after that supremely foolish brewing last time, making him dare, like a brainless troll, to challenge the authority of the Potions domain alone..." He glared fiercely at Shawn.
Shawn had just raised his head when he quickly lowered it again.
"Ha!" Snape laughed mockingly but felt slightly relieved. At least this fellow hadn't caused the cauldron to explode like those brainless Gryffindor trolls.
His attention quickly focused on the potion. He had to ensure this batch truly wouldn't explode. As for Shawn's results? Did he think Potions was some branch of magic where you could make quick progress? Based on last time's complete mess of brewing, not having an accident this time was already fortunate.
But at this look, he was stunned: A qualified potion. Although far from excellent, it showed baffling progress.
"This is your masterpiece?" Snape glared viciously at Shawn.
Shawn nodded in response.
"I'm guessing your stirring arc was definitely too large, your heat control was atrociously bad. Only barely correct material processing allows you to still stand here talking to me. What's terrifying is you haven't comprehended this at all..." Professor Snape watched as Shawn skipped past the mockery and quickly wrote down the techniques in his words. Even the sarcasm came a beat late.
Immediately, his expression darkened further. He roared, "Get out of the dungeons! Now! Immediately!"
Shawn didn't hesitate. He quickly collected the crystal bottle, books, and materials and quietly walked out of the dungeons. No rebuttal, no fear, no anger, or any emotion. Only calm: "Sorry, Professor Snape."
The dark-haired wizard's gloomy face slightly froze. He watched the light in Shawn's emerald eyes dim until he disappeared at the end of the corridor.
As the environment became brighter and brighter, warmth wrapped around Shawn again. But his mood didn't improve. Instead, it was terrible.
He had successfully brewed a potion. Next, he only needed to keep practicing to solidly master Potions techniques and strengthen his Potions talent. Even the panel seemed to grant him good fortune:
[Cure for Boils: Locked (1/30)]
[One Apprentice-level potion brewing can unlock the Apprentice-level title in Potions domain.]
The Cure for Boils proficiency value was thirty, and with just one Apprentice-level potion brewing, he could unlock the Potions domain title. Everything was getting better. But at the most critical moment, it fell apart.
No one could predict Professor Snape's movements. The only known fact was he needed to teach young wizards Potions on Monday and Friday. Therefore, Shawn had absolutely no way to deal with this. He walked silently, thinking. Without practice, he couldn't improve. Therefore, practice was necessary. He would practice according to correct methods until his talent improved. So he confirmed he wouldn't make absurd mistakes leading to danger. His practice was safe and effective, but communication with Professor Snape was destined to be ineffective.
On the way to the Great Hall, Shawn suddenly recalled something. Professor Snape hadn't told him not to come back next time, nor had he deducted house points. Why was that? Shawn didn't know if he was overthinking, but vaguely, he seemed to have a slight chance again.
In the dungeons, Snape snorted coldly. His wand moved, and the cauldron slowly floated before him. The dark green liquid lay quietly, as peaceful as the young wizard who had just left. Because of those truly bright green eyes, he had no more mockery.
He carefully examined the Cure for Boils. Just from the potion's final state, he could deduce the young wizard's efforts. In three days, he had not only brought material processing above the passing line but also keenly adjusted stirring force, even achieving the most critical step—absolute focus. Without this, based on his poor heat handling and material timing, he couldn't possibly have brewed a qualified potion. All this progress—and he had spent only three days.
Snape could almost imagine the day-and-night thinking, the painstaking Herbology study. "Ha, what a pity. The beauty of Potions doesn't welcome wizards without sufficient talent..."
In the Great Hall, Shawn took out his portable notebook, carefully recalling every processing step and detail, ensuring they were engraved in his mind. Give up Potions practice because of Professor Snape's mockery? The probability was as low as Professor Snape giving Gryffindor a hundred points.
Professor Snape couldn't always be there... Shawn thought. Cauldrons didn't care who used them.