Harry and Ron caught on immediately.
Just picture it: Kane tossing ingredients into a cauldron during Potions class, only to somehow end up with a pot full of meatballs...
"Harry, let's be partners."
"Ron, let's be partners."
Kane watched as Harry and Ron smoothly excluded him from their duo without even blinking. His eye twitched.
"Come on, it's just Potions. Is this really necessary? What's more important, your friend or your grade?"
Ron stepped forward.
He needed to set the record straight: "If one of us partners with you, only one person walks away unharmed. But if we let you loose on someone else, both of us survive."
"That's a two-for-one deal we can't pass up."
"I see. Should I applaud? Maybe throw in a 'Wow Ron, you're so good at math!'" Kane clapped slowly, his smile anything but friendly.
"Shh, keep it down. My mum did ask me to tutor Ginny in math, but I never actually agreed." Ron waved him off smugly, as if Kane had actually paid him a compliment.
Potions was the first class after lunch. After eating, the three of them headed straight to the classroom, arriving early.
Because of Professor Quirrell's example, even with Kane vouching for him, the fact that Snape didn't smell weird wasn't enough to convince Harry and Ron. Eventually, the three found seats in the middle of the classroom and split between two tables.
Kane at one, Harry and Ron at the other. As time passed, more students trickled in, including Draco Malfoy.
Seeing Kane sitting alone, Draco felt this was the perfect chance to get closer to him.
But someone beat him to it.
Draco's face fell. Then, remembering what his father and the older students had said about how much Professor Snape despised Gryffindor...
On second thought, better keep a low profile.
"Oh, Hermione? Where are your friends?" Kane asked, surprised to see Hermione settling in beside him.
"We're in a temporary standoff. They're upset because I've been spending all my free time in the library.
It's absurd. They just need to cool down." Hermione huffed, eyes still glued to the Potions textbook on her desk. She was clearly reviewing.
"Well, hope you guys work it out soon." Kane blinked as he spoke, catching sight of Harry and Ron making faces at him from the side.
They were obviously curious about his new victim. Like, if meatballs suddenly appeared in Kane and Hermione's cauldron, how would they keep straight faces?
But before they could dwell on it, a swooshing sound came from the doorway.
Snape swept in, black robes billowing behind him. He reached the podium, wrapped his cloak around himself with a flourish, and looked down at the students.
"Before we begin, I need to know if you understand why you're here. If you don't, that's fine. I'll tell you. Just this once."
"One hundred percent accuracy. Not a single error. Replicate my every move. That's all I ask. After all, I don't expect your not-necessarily-brilliant minds to grasp the precise artistry of potion-making, so I have only one requirement: don't make a mess in my classroom."
The opening speech, so different from the other professors, made Kane realize instantly that Snape was a true professional.
Like how most schools have an honors class in each grade, and the teacher of that honors class is always the most arrogant, self-centered, harsh, and exacting person imaginable, tearing down everyone equally, including but not limited to the regular students in other classes, their unfortunate homeroom teachers, and their subject teachers.
In Kane's eyes, Snape fit that mold perfectly. His unique opening told Kane everything: this professor was ice-cold.
So...
This was the first class, right? Surely this professor wouldn't be insane enough to jump straight into practical work? Right? Just like how Charms was scheduled before Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Herbology should come before Potions too, otherwise how could you brew potions if you couldn't even identify the ingredients?
That's right, it had to be right. This class would probably just be lecture-based, maybe with a few questions.
Kane was half right. Snape did ask a question.
"If I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood, what would I get? I need a student to answer... Ah, the famous Chosen One, Harry Potter. Stand up and answer, please."
Snape looked at Harry with an expression like a ghost.
"I don't know, Professor."
Charms or Transfiguration were like essays. Even if you didn't know the answer, you could fake something. But Potions was like math. If you didn't know, you didn't know. You could only stare at the problem.
"I'm very disappointed, Mr. Potter. I thought your talent would match your fame." Snape shook his head, looking at Harry with clear disappointment.
A cheerful atmosphere filled the classroom.
"Professor, may I sit down now?" Harry asked, face flushed.
"Of course... NOT. Next question. Where would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?"
"I don't know, Professor." Harry slowly lowered his head.
"How wonderful. If someone had to spend their next life as your brain, they must have done something truly extraordinary in their past life. It wouldn't be tiring at all." Snape shook his head slowly.
Kane focused his attention on Snape. Such brutal insults. He couldn't tell if this was just Professor Snape's natural personality, or if he had some personal grudge against Harry.
"What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
"I still don't know." Harry had adopted a whatever-happens-happens attitude now. So what if he lost points and got insulted? Go ahead! Deduct away! Insult away!
Whatever.
Kane pretty much understood now. Snape was really just targeting Harry. And since he'd figured that out, his current desk partner Hermione could keep her hand raised as high as she wanted. It wouldn't do any good.
Just wait for Snape to torture Harry for a full hour, and he could coast through this class safely.
Harry, don't blame me for being disloyal. You and Ron started this!
Watching Harry stand there, his face cycling from white to red, and Ron staring intently at the desk in front of him, Kane felt a wave of satisfaction. His expression practically glowed with schadenfreude. This was instant karma!
Snape returned to the podium and wrote the answers to his three questions on the blackboard: "If you don't have photographic memories, do you at least have the ability to take notes? Oh, and I almost forgot. Fifteen points from Gryffindor."
All the young Gryffindor students... didn't beat their chests in despair. The pressure in Snape's classroom was simply too intense. They didn't dare make a scene.
Just as Kane finished taking notes, Snape spoke again: "Take out your cauldrons. First class, I'm having you practice making a Cure for Boils."
"......"
Kane... not smiling anymore.