Ryan followed Snape through the corridor, their shadows cast by the flickering flames of the torches on the wall. He observed the professor, whose reputation on campus was extremely poor. The man's black robes swayed against the light of the torches, making him look like a wandering ghost.
His appearance was certainly unpleasant, but Ryan had long since stopped judging people by appearances — he had seen countless wizards far more bizarre than Snape a thousand years ago. He was accustomed to judging people by their actions, and Snape's behavior amused him.
Every word he spoke to Ryan was filled with sarcasm and venom, and his attitude was cold, even seemingly filled with hostility. But compared to the Slytherins, Ryan felt that Professor Snape seemed more cultured. At least he didn't immediately side with his students, nor did he join them in calling Ryan a Mudblood.
And...
"Your gaze is unpleasant, Mr. Elias," Snape said coldly, clearly noticing Ryan's observation. "It seems your elders haven't taught you how to respect your professors. Do you want me to hire a troll as your etiquette instructor?"
Ryan decided to retract his opinion — this professor was indeed quite annoying at times.
"Armadillo bile."
"What?" For a moment, even Snape didn't react.
"The smell you carry, Professor... is like cat pheromones and the smell of fermented bread. That's the smell of armadillo bile," Ryan said politely. "You might have been processing armadillo bile, and Parkinson's arrival may have forced you to discard one portion... I've read that it must be treated with a spell immediately after extraction."
This was why Ryan didn't hold a strong grudge against Snape — he might have given up a portion of armadillo bile and chosen to come to the Slytherin common room immediately. This at least showed that he wasn't completely without a sense of responsibility towards his students.
God forbid, after seeing the performance of the young Slytherin wizards, Ryan was already very pleased. However, given the other party's sharp tongue and bad attitude, Ryan decided to retort.
"But the way you handled it was obviously wrong."
"Wrong!?" After saying this, Ryan clearly saw that Snape's expression became even colder. His eyes looked at Ryan like a sharp knife. "Are you pointing out a mistake? To the Potions professor who taught you? Elias, your endless chatter reminds me of the dwarf con man selling fake amulets in Knockturn Alley. The only difference is that their lies are worth at least three copper knuts — and your arrogant words are worthless..." He spewed venom, but Ryan was not angry.
He interrupted with a smile. "Actually, I haven't taken your Potions class yet... Our class is tomorrow, isn't it? But before that — perhaps you could try my method."
"First, block out the light in the room and keep it dark. Then, treat the armadillo with a Shrinking Fig and a Sparkle Charm. This will stimulate it to secrete more bile, and the bile won't have such a strong smell... In fact, the color of your wizard robe is perfect for this technique."
Halfway through his words, Ryan saw Snape pause as he was about to continue his taunting. His expression began to turn into one of surprise and doubt, then turned serious as Ryan spoke, and finally his eyes filled with thought.
"Darkness and Shrinking Figs... Strong light sources..." He murmured softly, as if deep in thought. But then, he caught Ryan's subtle gaze. Snape's pale face darkened even more. "You..." He hesitated, and Ryan had seen this look before — on Professor McGonagall not long ago.
"If you're wondering what the book is called, or who wrote it... I'm afraid I can't tell you, Professor," Ryan said with a smile. "After all, it's a legacy left to me by my elders, isn't it?" That was perfectly true — the knowledge about potions and magical beasts was personally taught by Mrs. Helga Hufflepuff, so the results were absolutely authentic.
"..."
Snape practically trembled with rage, his long-unwashed black hair swirling.
"You..." He seemed about to offer another sarcastic remark, but it was too late — they had already reached the eighth floor, and a massive stone beast statue appeared before them. Snape took a deep breath, as if suppressing his anger.
"Lemon Sherlock," he uttered, and Ryan saw the massive stone beast slowly shift, revealing a spiral stone staircase behind it. Snape said nothing more to Ryan and walked into the staircase.
Ryan shrugged, surprised by the headmaster's unusual password. From what he knew, 'Lemon Sherbet' seemed to be a Muggle candy. Hmm... Madam Pella once gave him one, and it tasted delicious.
"Oh, it's been almost a week since I came to school, and I forgot to write a letter to Madam Pella and Dean Aisha." Ryan pondered this as he also walked down the stone steps into the headmaster's office.
The office was even more cluttered than Ryan had expected, strewn with ornaments and magical artifacts. He spotted the Sorting Hat in a glass display case, its brim now subtly lowered towards him.
"Have a nice evening, my little master," Ryan thought, almost hearing the old hat's respectful voice.
Portraits of past headmasters lined the walls of the room. Except for a few that were empty, seemingly gone somewhere, the rest were awake.
"A first-year wizard?"
"What are you doing here so late? Disturbing my sleep!"
"Oh, he seems to be that special little one from this year — I mean, the Sorting Hat..."
They looked at Ryan curiously, discussing among themselves. Albus Dumbledore was already seated at his desk in the middle of the room. Before him stood a silver teacup and various candies. Next to them were the equipment for his ten-pin bowling game. A bird with fiery red feathers stood on a nearby shelf.
"Phoenix?" Ryan recognized this rare magical creature instantly — he had once seen one in Northern Europe during his travels with the Founders. These powerful creatures possessed a variety of special abilities, including a rare immortality in the wizarding world. Specifically, they died but were quickly reborn, a process known as 'Nirvana'.
"Phoenixes are magnificent creatures. They cannot defeat death, but they bravely face it," Ravenclaw had once told Ryan. She believed that creatures who faced death head-on and escaped it countless times would only recognize truly great wizards. And judging by his tone, Dumbledore clearly received recognition.
"Incredible," Ryan murmured inwardly. Somehow, his initial judgment on the headmaster, which was already hig,h increased further, as he realized that the man was indeed far from being ordinary. At that moment, Dumbledore seemed to notice the two men entering the office.
"Oh, excuse me, I got a little carried away." The headmaster paused playing ten-pin bowling and looked at Snape with a gentle, intelligent gaze behind his half-moon glasses. "Hmm? Severus, you don't look well — would you like a leprechaun toffee? Honeydukes' latest creation. I am sure that this will be able to refresh your brain."
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Author's note
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