Once Professor Snape had walked far enough away, Kyle leaned in closer to the trio again.
"Professor Snape's deeply beloved first love was murdered by an old man..."
Lord Voldemort was born in 1926.
When he killed Harry's mother—who was also Snape's first love, Lily—in 1981, he was already over fifty years old.
So, calling Voldemort an old man was technically correct.
Hermione covered her mouth in shock.
"Snape used to be a lively and cheerful lad, but ever since that incident, he became the way he is now." Kyle was just spouting nonsense.
Even if Lily hadn't been murdered, Snape would still look like everyone owed him a million Galleons.
Kyle stared at Harry and Ron.
"Also, because of that incident, Professor Snape particularly hates men. Add to that the relationship between Gryffindor and Slytherin..."
Snape was the Head of Slytherin House.
And Slytherin and Gryffindor had been arch-rivals since the founding of Hogwarts a thousand years ago.
Kyle crossed his arms. "If you don't want to die a miserable death in Potions class, just cross-dress."
Just then, a noisy flapping of wings came from overhead, and a hundred or so owls suddenly flew into the Great Hall.
These owls flew around the dining tables until they found their respective owners, dropping letters or packages onto their laps.
Harry's owl, Hedwig, fluttered her wings and landed between the marmalade dish and the sugar bowl, dropping a note onto Harry's plate.
Kyle also received an identical note brought by Itachi.
The handwriting on the note was incredibly scribbly and wild, but Kyle managed to make out what it said.
Hagrid had invited them to have tea with him on Friday afternoon.
Kyle pulled out a quill, scrawled a casual reply on the back of the note, and let Itachi take it away.
Harry did much the same.
After replying to Hagrid, Kyle looked back at Harry and Ron.
"Well? Do you want to consider my proposal?"
Ron shook his head frantically. "Cross-dressing is impossible. I will never cross-dress in this lifetime."
Well, that was a shame.
If Ron cross-dressed, it was far more likely that Snape would beat him to death right there in the classroom.
Kyle looked at Harry. "Harry, what about you?"
Harry thought back to the look Professor Snape had given him at the Start-of-Term Feast; he could feel that Professor Snape didn't like him.
So Harry didn't refuse as decisively as Ron had. Instead, he hesitated.
Kyle's words sounded in Harry's ear again, like the whisper of a devil.
"You don't want Professor Snape to give you a hard time, do you? There are plenty of upper-year students who have been reduced to tears by Snape's torment!"
Harry imagined himself crying in Potions class because of Snape's bullying, and then being mocked by Draco and his trio...
He shook his head violently, banishing the image from his mind, and then looked firmly at Kyle.
"What do I have to do?"
Kyle opened the ninja tool pouch at his waist, which contained the disguise tools he had used when frequenting the Three Broomsticks.
"Finish your meal first, and then I'll help you with your makeup. Don't worry, there's plenty of time."
Potions lessons took place in a dungeon classroom. It was colder here than up in the main castle.
Glass jars lined the walls, containing pickled animals that made one shudder just to look at them.
Miss "Harriet" sat uneasily beside the "Little Beaver," constantly feeling that the surrounding students were casting strange looks at him.
In reality, Kyle's makeup skills were top-notch; no one noticed that he was actually Harry.
Aside from the facial disguise, Kyle had used Transfiguration to turn Harry's already-long hair into shoulder-length locks, and then dyed them the same shade of red as his mother's.
Furthermore, eleven-year-old boys were just entering puberty, so their Adam's apples weren't very obvious.
Add to that the young wizards' robes, which didn't distinguish very clearly between male and female styles...
Therefore, apart from the few who had witnessed the entire process of Harry transforming into Harriet, it was impossible for anyone else to recognize this little red-haired girl as the famous Savior.
Harriet's anxiety was merely a delusion.
Beside him, looking at the red-lipped, white-toothed little girl Harriet, Ron subtly swallowed a mouthful of saliva.
If only Harry were really a girl.
At this thought, Ron suddenly wanted to slap himself.
What kind of mess was he thinking about?
The dungeon door banged open, and a large bat flew in, wings flapping.
"There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class."
Severus Snape didn't even spare a glance at the young wizards below as he strode toward the podium.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making."
Snape spoke as he picked up the register.
"As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic..."
When his gaze swept over the Gryffindor students, the register in Snape's hand fell to the floor with a snap.
The current Harriet looked exactly the same as her mother, Lily, had in her childhood.
This was thanks to the memories Dumbledore had previously shown Kyle, allowing Kyle to achieve such a god-tier recreation.
Ron caught Snape's line of sight and looked at Harriet beside him in surprise.
Was what Kyle said true?
Was Harry cross-dressing as Harriet actually effective?
Snape quickly realized his loss of composure and scrambled to pick up the register from the floor.
"I don't expect you..." Snape's gaze drifted toward the Gryffindors, then shifted away in a slight panic.
"To really understand the..."
Snape suddenly found he couldn't continue; he couldn't control his eyes, which kept darting back to Harriet.
"...to really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron... emitting white smoke... wafting bursts of fragrance..."
He couldn't go on!
Giving up, Snape slammed the register onto the desk and began to call the roll.
When he reached Harriet's name, Snape took a deep breath and read it out with a trembling voice.
"Harriet Potter!"
Harriet responded weakly.
Over at the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy turned his head in shock. This is Harry?
As he sized up Harriet's appearance, an imperceptible blush crept onto Draco's pale cheeks.
He turned back awkwardly, refusing to look at Harriet again.
Beside him, however, Crabbe and Goyle burst into unrestrained laughter, finding the fact that Harry had turned into Harriet simply too ridiculous.
Two Langlock curses hit them in the face instantly.
Crabbe and Goyle turned around to see Snape holding his wand, his eyes revealing a murderous intent.
"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Powdered root of what to an infusion of what?
Harriet glanced at Ron, who looked as stumped as he was.
Hermione's hand shot high into the air.
"I... I don't know, sir," said Harriet.
"Honesty. Ten points to Gryffindor." Snape's tone was unprecedentedly gentle.
Ron and Hermione: ???
Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle: ???
The other Gryffindor and Slytherin students: ???
Realizing he had misspoken, Snape, flying into a rage out of humiliation, used his death glare to stare down every young wizard casting strange looks his way.
The Potions class continued. Although Snape remained pleasant toward Harriet, the situation for the little lions did not improve.
Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils.
The old bat swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs.
Almost all the students were criticized, except for a certain cross-dressing Miss Harriet.
Just as Snape was standing beside Harriet, carefully instructing the flattered girl on how to stew horned slugs, clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon.
Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob.
Their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes.
Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools.
Neville had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed.
Angry red boils were springing up all over his arms and legs, and he was whimpering in pain.
"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand.
"I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"
Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.
"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus.
Then Snape turned to Harriet, his tone gentle. "Harriet, you weren't hurt, were you?"
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