indianbanksassociation Chapter 290, page 289: The Magic Potion and the Vanished Phoenix
Chapter 290, page 289: The Magic Potion and the Vanished Phoenix
Chapter 290, page 289: The Magic Potion and the Vanished Phoenix
An eerie silence hung over Snape's office.
The flickering candlelight cast his upside-down shadow on the stone wall, like a bat nailed to a specimen frame, its disheveled black robe its bat wings.
to be frank.
Being the Hanged Man upside down must be really uncomfortable.
Because of this bizarre posture, Snape felt extremely embarrassed and annoyed. He regretted not wearing trousers, which exposed his pale ankles and thin calves that had never seen the sun while he was hanging upside down.
He was indeed very embarrassed, but not because of any shame. His face was flushed from the rush of blood to his head, and his black hair hung down to the ground like a messy spider web.
The entire Hogwarts.
It seemed as if a thick sense of resentment was about to permeate the air.
How could they not harbor resentment!
"That guy isn't an ordinary student! He's not a student at all!" Snape was now absolutely certain of this; he suspected that Rirem was Grindelwald disguised as a student.
Yes.
The blood flowing into Snape's head also made his cerebellum exceptionally agile and functional—if it were Voldemort, he could survive, but Hermione certainly couldn't.
Would Voldemort not take the opportunity to eat a big melon?
All Voldemorts who don't need to eat big melons are fake Voldemorts!
and.
Even if Voldemort had lost his mind, he wouldn't have insulted him like that. After all, he was one of the few talented people around Voldemort.
If Voldemort knew his secret, he would definitely devour him without giving him any room to maneuver. At most, he might ask him why he betrayed him before killing him.
Thinking about it that way.
The fact that the strange Ravenclaw student was identified immediately ruled out Voldemort as the only possible candidate. The only remaining person who could embarrass Snape so much and possess such magical skills and power was Grindelwald, who was imprisoned there.
That makes sense.
It's possible that Grindelwald had been keeping an eye on Dumbledore all along, and seized the opportunity to escape when Dumbledore disappeared—which coincides with the time he met that Ririm.
That person must be going to check the place where Dumbledore disappeared. Thinking about it this way, everything suddenly makes sense, as for the Ririm who was the first to enroll.
Or maybe he's been locked up.
Either they're dead.
Snape, in any case, didn't believe that a first-year wizard could make him so powerless—even his monster nephew probably didn't have this ability when he was a first-year wizard!
"Should we notify the other professors?"
Hermione nodded, her expression very worried.
She suddenly realized a terrifying fact: whoever was the being disguised as Ririm, the magic she used far exceeded her and even the professor's understanding.
Even more terrifying was the question—if this wizard could trap Snape in a simple prank spell, what could it do to Dumbledore and Ian, who had already entered the Bronze Gate? In the office fireplace, the flames crackled softly. Outside the window, the first rays of dawn were quietly creeping across the sky above Hogwarts.
"I think we need to do that."
Hermione stood to one side, nervously twisting her hair with her fingers, her eyes glancing at the door every now and then, as if considering whether she should hurry up and notify the other professors.
"No!"
Snape stopped the little witch from doing anything.
"You'll only harm the other professors—that person is beyond our control, except for Dumbledore." At this point, Snape seemed to have already convinced that Riem was the first Dark Lord.
can only say.
His brain may have been filled with enough blood.
However, the imagination is still not big enough.
"How could this happen..."
Hermione hadn't expected her magical journey to be so dangerous. Wasn't Hogwarts supposed to be the safest place in the world? It felt like something terrifying was happening everywhere she went.
You have to help me.
Snape didn't want Hermione to leave.
"Professor..." Hermione hesitated slightly, then tentatively began, "But I can't help you. However, I can find other professors to help you. What do you think?"
This is a very reasonable idea.
however.
This is why Snape didn't want Hermione to leave—even letting other professors see him like this was unacceptable for a man with psychological trauma.
Snape did not answer, but simply waved his wand in a somber mood.
The books on the shelf seemed to be pulled by an invisible hand, flying towards Hermione and piling up into a small mountain in front of her. One of the thick, black-covered ancient books even nearly hit her toes.
"Before Dumbledore returns,"
Snape's voice was as cold as the stone walls of a cellar.
"You can't leave."
Hermione's eyes widened, her expression full of hesitation. "But—"
She wanted to say that she had class today, and now that she looked at the time, it was almost time to get up for class. But before she could finish speaking, Snape glared at her.
"No buts!"
Snape interrupted her, a dangerous glint in his dark eyes, "Unless you want the whole of Hogwarts to know that your dear Potions professor is hanging from the ceiling like a dried-out ham?"
He directly stated his concerns.
However, he spoke in an almost threatening, sarcastic tone. Snape was indeed worried about Hermione's return, so he spread the word about his current situation throughout Gryffindor.
He also remembered that Gryffindors were all big mouths.
"Of course I wouldn't do that."
Hermione's lips pressed into a thin line. She certainly understood what Snape was worried about—if she returned to Gryffindor Tower, even if it was just a casual remark.
In less than half an hour.
The whole school would know the exciting story of "Snape being carried back to the castle upside down by a monster that looked like a student." This kind of thing was indeed very common in Gryffindor.
It's no wonder that after Dumbledore was wary of her, now Snape is also on guard—what can you do when reputation matters? Hermione doesn't even know if she can control her tongue.
"I won't tell anyone. Perhaps you can put a gag on me, or some other kind of magic," she whispered, as she knew that she hadn't yet touched upon the covenants between wizards.
"Ha, and then you're going to go to the Ministry of Magic and report me? I'm not that stupid." Snape sneered, clearly not believing him, and extremely wary of such tattletales as academic geniuses.
"But there's no point in me staying here."
Hermione was utterly helpless.
"Since you can't leave for the time being," Snape said slowly, hanging upside down in mid-air, his voice carrying a hint of complexity, "you might as well learn something useful."
Hermione was taken aback.
"What to study?"
Her eyes lit up as she asked a question.
"I'm the Potions professor, so of course I'll teach you Potions." Snape pointed to himself expressionlessly. "Don't get me wrong, it means I've changed my opinion of you."
"You're still a detestable Gryffindor in my eyes, but... for Ian's sake, I'll teach you, so I can feel a little better now."
Snape seemed to see something else in Hermione and Ian.
does not exist.
It was just wishful thinking on his part.
This is why he has been increasingly disliking Aurora lately—he has unknowingly begun to see that Grindelwald descendant as someone else entirely.
"Is it a magic potion that can't be learned in the classroom?"
Hermione was thrilled.
"You can learn everything in my class. If you can't, it's just because you're too stupid. Now, go and bring the cauldron over." Snape's lips curled into a cold smile.
They began issuing commands.
then.
In the next few hours,
The most absurd lesson in Hogwarts history has begun—a professor hanging upside down is teaching students how to use potions to make a hanging wizard feel a little better.
Inside the cellar office.
The crucible was bubbling and gurgling.
The dark green liquid gleamed eerily in the firelight.
Snape was still hanging upside down in mid-air, his black robes hanging down like a giant, captured bat, but his wand steadily guided Hermione's every move.
"Three circles clockwise, then half a circle counterclockwise," Snape said coldly, with a hint of seriousness. "One wrong step, and this potion will turn into corrosive poison."
Hermione's forehead was beaded with sweat, and her wrists ached from stirring for so long, but she dared not stop. Snape's eyes were fixed on her every move, and even the slightest mistake would draw a harsh critique.
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"Did a troll lend you your wrist?" Snape scoffed. "Stirring, not smashing, your movements are as clumsy as that damned Hagrid outside the Forbidden Forest."
"Okay, Professor."
Hermione gritted her teeth, trying to make her movements more precise. Time passed, and the sky outside the window had long since darkened when Hermione's stomach suddenly let out a protesting rumble.
Snape's dark eyes slowly turned toward her.
"Are you hungry already?"
He asked, his tone tinged with mockery.
Hermione nodded awkwardly.
Snape snorted and waved his wand. The bottom drawer of his desk sprang open, and a crumpled bag of cookies flew out and landed in front of Hermione.
"Eat," he said expressionlessly. "A good potion master must learn to fight his appetite. Some potions can be consumed by the potion maker even after three days and three nights of brewing."
He wasn't exaggerating.
Such a magical potion exists in this world.
"I understand. I'll practice starving myself in the future." Hermione picked up a biscuit, took a tentative bite, and almost bit her tooth.
"Professor, this cookie... is harder than a rock."
Hermione gasped, feeling like her front teeth were about to be knocked out.
"If you think it's too hard, then don't eat it. If you can't handle hardship, you'll never become a great Potions Master in your life," Snape replied coldly, his gaze returning to the cauldron.
"Forehead……"
Hermione stared at the cookie, which was as big as a brick, when suddenly an idea struck her.
She quietly took a small bottle of honey extract and a few softening herbs from the potion-making shelf, gently tapped them with her wand, mixed them together, and then dripped them onto the biscuits.
A few seconds later, the cookies became soft and even emitted a sweet aroma.
Snape caught a glimpse of this scene out of the corner of his eye, and his eyebrows rose slightly.
"...Not too stupid," he finally commented, his voice unusually devoid of sarcasm. "At least you know how to use potion ingredients to solve practical problems."
Hermione couldn't help but smirk, and was about to respond—
Boom boom boom!
There was a sudden knock on the office door.
Snape's body stiffened abruptly, and Hermione held her breath instantly.
"Severus?" Professor McGonagall's stern voice came from outside the door. "Are you in?"
Snape's face visibly darkened.
He quickly turned off the chandelier on the ceiling, and with a wave of his wand, the entire office suddenly dimmed, creating an atmosphere where patients should not be exposed to light.
"Minerva,"
He lowered his voice, deliberately making it sound hoarse, "Right now... it's inconvenient for me to see anyone."
Hermione's eyes widened—Snape was faking illness?!
Professor McGonagall, standing outside the door, seemed to hesitate for a moment: "Are you sick?"
"The potion experiment... went a little wrong," Snape continued in a weak voice. "The steam rising from the potion... affected my appearance."
Hermione almost couldn't hold back her laughter and quickly covered her mouth.
"You shouldn't have made such a basic mistake." Professor McGonagall was slightly puzzled, but after a few seconds of silence, she sighed and got down to business.
"Albus's phoenix has disappeared."
The professor spoke in a serious tone.
Snape, of course, knew what was going on.
"...that bird is often missing."
He pretended not to care at all.
"But this time is different." Professor McGonagall's voice was filled with worry. "It just disappeared right in front of me. I was very anxious, and I didn't know what had happened."
Upon hearing this...
Snape's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, but he quickly regained his composure.
"I'm brewing an extremely dangerous potion and must not be disturbed," he continued in a sickly voice. "I'll come find you after I'm done."
There was silence for a few more seconds outside the door.
"Why did I think I just heard a little wizard's voice?" Professor McGonagall suddenly asked.
Hermione's heart skipped a beat.
Snape remained unfazed.
"Isn't it normal for me to hire a student to do odd jobs?"
He was incredibly honest.
Professor McGonagall seemed to think for a moment.
"No, that makes perfect sense."
She had no doubts; perhaps this was also due to word-of-mouth.
The footsteps gradually faded into the distance.
Snape breathed a sigh of relief.
"professor,"
Hermione whispered, "You're quite adept at faking illness."
She cautiously probed.
Snape gave the first-year student a cold look.
"Shut up, Granger."
Hermione pursed her lips, then suddenly remembered something and couldn't help but laugh, "If Ian were here, he would definitely say—Professor McGonagall didn't hear my voice, but rather the potion screaming."
Snape's lips twitched, as if he wanted to curse, or perhaps... he almost couldn't hold back. In the end, he simply waved his wand grimly, reigniting the flames in the cauldron.
"Continue to brew the medicine."
He said coldly.
"If you say another word, I'll let you taste what a real potion scream sounds like." This was a fierce threat, and Hermione quickly lowered her head to stir, genuinely startled.
The Hanged Man's class continues.
(End of this chapter)