Bab 24: (24) Ian's Dilemma
After arranging the four students' seats, Snape began the lesson.
"You are here to learn the precise science and exact art of potion-making," Snape began. His voice was barely louder than a whisper, yet every word was crystal clear.
"Because there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic at all."
"I do not expect you to truly understand the subtle beauty of a simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes and intoxicating aromas."
"You will not truly comprehend the marvel of a liquid flowing through human veins, ensnaring the senses and bewitching the mind."
"I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper to death—if you aren't the dunderheads I usually have to teach."
At his final sentence, Snape's gaze sharply turned to Harry, cold and piercing.
Harry: "...…"
He was utterly bewildered.
Ian glanced at Harry with sympathy, silently lighting a metaphorical candle for him.
This is just the beginning, Ian thought to himself.
Soon enough, Snape's storm of fury will come. Let's hope Harry survives the venom of the Serpent King.
"Mr. Harry Potter!" Snape suddenly barked.
Harry jolted upright with a start. "P-present!"
"If I add powdered asphodel to an infusion of wormwood, what will I get?" Snape asked.
Harry hadn't even had time to open his textbook, let alone know the answer to such a question. He swallowed nervously and replied softly, "I don't know, Professor."
"How disappointing," Snape said with an exaggerated shake of his head, his tone dripping with disdain. "It seems fame doesn't account for everything."
Hermione, eager to answer, began raising her hand but paused when she noticed Ian subtly glancing her way. Remembering his earlier advice, she reluctantly lowered her hand.
"Let's try again, shall we?" Snape said mockingly. "Potter, tell me, where would you find bezoars?"
"I don't know, Professor," Harry answered honestly.
He lowered his head, avoiding Snape's cold and unyielding gaze.
"How pitiful," Snape muttered, tapping his desk with the feather quill in his hand. "Then perhaps you can tell me the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
This time, Harry decided there was no point in pretending to know. Throwing caution to the wind, he answered loudly, "I don't know, Professor!"
"Don't know..." Snape repeated softly, his voice as cold as a serpent slithering around Harry, tightening its grip. "It seems, Mr. Potter, that you've studied absolutely nothing in the two months since you received your acceptance letter."
"Ten points from Gryffindor! For the great Mr. Potter's inability to even complete basic pre-class reading!"
Snape glared coldly at Harry. "What's the matter, Mr. Harry Potter? Entering the wizarding world as the famous 'Boy-Who-Lived' has made you this complacent?"
Harry pressed his lips together, gripping his book tightly. He replied loudly, "No, Professor!"
"Oh? Then why haven't you even opened your book?" Snape sneered. "You simply don't want to learn, do you, Mr. Potter?"
Harry opened his mouth, trying to find the words to explain, but in the end, he could only lower his head and murmur softly, "That's not true, Professor."
Snape gave a cold laugh and turned his sharp gaze to Ian in the first row. "Mr. Ian Potter, let's see if you can answer these three questions."
Ian stood up, meeting Snape's eyes directly.
He answered each question with precision and clarity.
"Professor, adding powdered asphodel to an infusion of wormwood produces a powerful sleeping potion known as the Draught of Living Death."
"A bezoar can be found in the stomach of a goat, and it has strong antidote properties."
"Monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant, also known as aconite."
"Very well Mr. Ia—"
"But there is more Professor. They belong to the same species of plant but are slightly different. Monkshood blooms purple flowers, while wolfsbane produces blue flowers, the latter being considered highly toxic than the other by Potion masters."
"Ahh.." After finishing, Ian looked at Snape with a complicated expression.
Unlike Harry, who knew nothing, Ian understood the hidden significance behind the three questions Snape had asked.
Their mother—Lily. The flower lily shares the same symbolism as the narcissus: My regrets follow you to the grave.
And wormwood? It represents absence and sorrow.
The first question revealed Snape's own painful love story.
The bezoar, known as an antidote, connected to his earlier mention of painful love, carried the unspoken question: "How can my pain be healed?"
Finally, wolfsbane symbolizes living for love, resilience, and heroism.
Through these three questions, Snape was expressing his regret over Lily's death, his unspoken sorrow: I am heartbroken over your mother's death.
Snape was momentarily stunned by the look in Ian's eyes and, unaccustomed to such a gaze, quickly looked away.
"..Very good. Unlike your arrogant older brother, Ian Potter seems to have been preparing diligently," Snape said after a pause. He added, "Ten points to Slytherin for Ian Potter's excellence."
Ian gave a slight nod. "Thank you, Professor."
"It seems our other savior needs to learn some humility," Snape remarked with a mocking smile as he glanced at Harry. "Mr. Harry Potter, perhaps you should take a lesson from your younger brother. Instead of being conceited and imagining yourself as the Chosen One, thinking your mere entry into the wizarding world solves everything."
Harry pressed his lips together tightly and responded quietly, "I.. understand, Professor."
"Hmph." Snape snorted disdainfully before turning to the rest of the class. "What are you all doing? Why aren't you writing down young Mr. Potter's answers?"
The classroom was immediately filled with the sound of quills scratching on parchment as the students hurried to take notes.
Snape, his mood slightly improved by Ian's calm demeanor, softened his expression and said, "Alright, let's continue with the lesson."
Snape turned to the blackboard and began writing a long potion recipe, explaining as he wrote, "Today, we will be learning how to brew a Cure for Boils potion. Who can tell me what the most critical aspect of brewing this potion is?"
Hermione immediately raised her hand high, eager to answer and win back the ten points Harry had lost.
"Very well, Miss Granger," Snape said, nodding at her to stand and answer the question.
"It's the temperature of the cauldron, Professor," Hermione said confidently as she stood, looking directly at Snape. "The key to brewing the Cure for Boils potion is controlling the cauldron's temperature. It mustn't be too high or too low."
"Correct. Gryffindor earns one..."
Snape paused, glancing at Ian seated beside Hermione, and then changed his mind. "Gryffindor earns five points."
Hearing the additional points, Hermione beamed with delight. She sat back down and gave Ian's hand a small squeeze under the table.
She had recovered half the points Harry had lost!
Ian gently returned the squeeze and offered her a warm smile.
Snape noticed their subtle interaction and frowned slightly but ultimately said nothing.
Well, it's fine, Snape reasoned to himself.
They've known each other since childhood, and such small gestures are hardly inappropriate. Young people should build relationships, especially across different Houses.
Convincing himself of this, Snape waved his hand and announced, "Alright, let's begin brewing the potion. Pair up in groups of two; you may choose your own partners."
The students began moving about, searching for partners.
"Ian!"
"Potter!"
"—let's team up!"
Hermione and Cassandra both turned to Ian at the same time, speaking in unison.
Ian froze for a moment, surprised to find himself in such high demand.
Cassandra and Hermione exchanged sharp looks, and it felt as if sparks were crackling in the air between them.
"Ian, we're both Slytherin prefects. It's our duty to set an example for the other students," Cassandra said first, locking eyes with Ian, her tone carrying a subtle hint of threat.
Not to be outdone, Hermione straightened her back and said firmly, "Ian, I really need you."
'Ah..' Caught in the middle, Ian glanced at Cassandra, then at Hermione, torn and unsure of whom to choose.
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