Although two legendary recipes destined to go down in history had just been born in a single class, Potions still had to go on.
Snape split the first-years into pairs and guided them in brewing a simple boil-cure potion.
While the young witches and wizards worked, Snape swept around the classroom, his long cloak trailing behind him as he watched them weigh out dried nettles and grind snake fangs.
At the slightest mistake, Snape would instantly appear at your side and spray you with a loud stream of venomous criticism.
Among all the students, only Harry and Malfoy were spared.
Some students knew that the Malfoy family was on good terms with Snape, which was why he treated Malfoy differently.
As for Harry, the reason he wasn't scolded was that his every movement was flawless. Even a Potions master like Snape couldn't find a single flaw.
In fact, even if he'd stepped in himself, he couldn't have done it better than Harry.
Before Harry had taken out those two legendary potions, people might have found this surprising.
Now, they felt it was only natural.
Harry would soon become the youngest Potions master the wizarding world had ever known, and this was exactly the level a Potions master ought to have.
About halfway through the lesson, Slytherin earned five points because Malfoy's boil-cure potion turned out especially well.
And Snape showed no sign of changing his opinion of Gryffindor. He ruthlessly picked out a few students' mistakes and ended up docking ten points from them in a single class.
Fortunately, Harry was so outstanding that even Snape was forced to award him another two points, which made the Gryffindors collectively breathe a deep sigh of relief.
Just as Harry was about to deal with the slugs, his chaos magic—now fused with some aspects of spider-sense—flared a warning.
Danger on the right!
He snapped his head in that direction and saw the boy beside him, about to toss a handful of porcupine quills into his cauldron.
The problem was that the cauldron was still over the fire.
Harry knew that if the quills went in now, the cauldron would explode, blasting acidic green sludge everywhere. Anyone splashed with it would break out in horrible boils.
Harry shouted a warning. "Neville, don't forget to take the cauldron off the fire first!"
But perhaps Harry's shout startled him; Neville's hand slipped and the quills tumbled from his fingers, falling straight toward the cauldron.
Harry sighed internally and drew his wand in a swift motion.
The porcupine quills transformed into feathers and fluttered harmlessly to the side of the cauldron.
Snape had seen everything. His dark eyes locked onto Neville, and the poor boy burst into tears on the spot.
In a low, dangerous voice, Snape said, "Attention, Gryffindor. Due to Longbottom's mistake, five points from Gryffindor."
The Slytherins immediately broke into loud laughter—but they didn't laugh for long.
Snape went on, "An excellent piece of Transfiguration—Mr. Potter just prevented an accident. Five points to Gryffindor."
This time, it was Gryffindor's turn to cheer. They shouted Harry's name at the top of their lungs, only quieting down when Snape glared at them.
Even many of the Slytherin girls had begun sneaking glances at Harry. Slytherin had always revered strength, and Harry was a wizard whose power far surpassed his peers—and on top of that, he was about to become a Potions master while still in his first year.
More than a few Slytherin girls were already considering whether they should make the first move and win Harry over.
If the Gryffindor girls found out, their faces would be priceless.
When Snape finally announced the end of Potions, the students scrambled to get out of the gloomy classroom, not wanting to stay another second.
As she was leaving, Hermione gave Harry a worried look, afraid Snape would do something unpleasant to him.
Harry gave her a small nod to show he was fine and to put her at ease.
Once everyone had gone, Snape cast Harry a sideways glance and said coolly, "Follow me."
Under Snape's lead, they turned left and right through the dungeons until they reached a room that was gloomy, oppressive, and dimly lit.
This had to be Snape's office.
Harry quietly looked around. Shelves lined the walls, packed with large glass jars filled with various slimy, disgusting specimens.
In one corner, a fireplace was burning; it was probably connected to Hogwarts' Floo Network.
On the other side of the room stood a cabinet stocked with potion ingredients and bottled finished products.
Harry even spotted several vials of unbelievably expensive Felix Felicis.
As expected, someone with real skills could make good money anywhere. Snape was definitely a rich man.
Snape sat down on a chair and gestured for Harry to sit opposite him.
Perhaps because there was no one else present, Snape dropped his guard a little, staring blankly into Harry's green eyes. Harry had to prompt him before he snapped out of it. "Professor Snape?"
Jolted from his memories, Snape came back to himself—and immediately saw a face that looked far too much like James Potter's. His expression darkened at once, but when he remembered that Harry's gift for Potions surpassed even Lily's, he resisted the urge to plant a fist in that infuriating face and instead asked:
"About those two new potion recipes—what do you intend to do with them?"
Harry thought to himself, So Snape wants to protect me, and use his status as a Potions master to shield me from outside attention?
It never even occurred to him that Snape might try to steal the recipes.
For all Snape's cold and sinister appearance, Harry could tell he was a good person—and because of his connection to Harry's mother, Snape would never steal his potions.
Sure enough, when Harry didn't answer right away, Snape said in a low voice,
"I imagine you don't have a concrete plan yet. In that case, authorize me to handle those two recipes.
I'll register them under your name and use my contacts to profit from them.
However, you will give me thirty percent of the proceeds."
As soon as he heard this proposal, Harry answered without hesitation. "I'd be delighted, Professor Snape!"
Snape's words might not be pleasant, but the terms he offered were incredibly generous.
With Snape handling things, Harry wouldn't need to negotiate deals himself or waste energy dealing with outsiders who wanted to get their hands on the recipes. All he had to do was sit back and collect the money.
Harry didn't really care about people coveting the formulas, but handling it all would be a hassle.
Even if Snape had asked for a fifty-fifty split, Harry would have agreed—so a seventy-thirty split in his favor was even better.
Clearly, Snape really was a good person.
Harry's gaze grew increasingly warm as he looked at him, which made the professor—who was used to being feared—rather uncomfortable.
And yet, there was something strangely pleasant about the feeling. Lily's child didn't seem afraid of him at all, and Snape found that he quite liked that.
Of course Lily was special—and so was her child.
But every time Snape tried to soften around Harry, that face so like James Potter's would make him go cold again in an instant.
Snape's face fell in a flash, and he snapped viciously…
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