In Potions class, Snape was teaching the students how to make an antidote for a powerful wizarding poison.
Some of the Durmstrang students sat on the edge of their seats, looking tense and wanting to write down every word Snape said. The other students were staring blankly at the ceiling, completely zoned out.
To prevent Hogwarts from cheating and to better monitor the every move of the two Hogwarts champions, Karkaroff had deliberately arranged for all the students, except for Viktor, to attend fourth-year classes.
He thought that sixth-year students attending fourth-year classes would have no academic pressure at all. Who would have guessed that the fourth-year students at Hogwarts were so brilliant? Their learning was far beyond the sixth-year level.
As a result, they fell even further behind. Imagine a group of students who believe in "happy learning" suddenly landing in the middle of a high-pressure academic environment and studying, doing exercises, and taking exams with the students there...
Oh, my goodness, it would be a nightmare.
Even if they wrote down every single word, they wouldn't be able to understand what Snape was talking about.
They couldn't adapt at all, and many Durmstrang students chose to give up.
Snape couldn't be bothered with them, either. After all, they weren't his students, so whether they learned or not had nothing to do with him.
Ron was lying on his desk, looking like he had given up on life. "Can't the school make some normal food?"
Since that day when he and Dudley's group tasted the canned fish, Ron hadn't eaten a proper meal.
Nothing tasted good, and he had no appetite at all... All he could think about was the taste of the canned fish. This afternoon, even his favorite drumstick was right in front of him, and he didn't care.
Well, the main reason was that to cater to Beauxbatons' tastes, the drumstick today was sweet, sprinkled with a thick layer of jam and white sugar.
Sweet chicken drumsticks? Was that even for humans to eat? It was the greatest disrespect to the drumstick.
As expected, Ron, who was slumped over his desk, was noticed by Snape.
"Weasley, if you want to sleep, get out and do it."
Well, now it wasn't just his name, but his last name, too.
But Ron didn't care.
As a true foodie, if he couldn't even care about food anymore, what was there to be afraid of?
Ronald was fearless.
Suddenly, a strange and exotic aroma wafted into Ron's nose. It was a scent he had never smelled before. In that moment, he became alert and looked up, glancing around.
'Someone's cooking in Potions class?!'
Soon, that strange scent grew stronger, filling the entire classroom. Not just Ron, but everyone else smelled it, too.
Snape's face was ashen, as if it had been covered in black ink.
He had clearly smelled it, too.
Someone dared to cook in his class. How audacious!
Did they not see him as a Potions Master?
He was going to find out who was so bold and make them taste the poison from the antidote he was teaching today.
Did they think he, Snape, had a good temper?
Instantly, his sharp eyes swept over the Durmstrang students, scaring the young wizards into shrinking back, afraid of being targeted by Snape.
No, it wasn't them.
Snape regretfully turned his gaze away, having found nothing.
If it wasn't the foreign students, then it had to be from Hogwarts...
Starting with the most daring of them all, Gryffindor...
But still, nothing.
Snape furrowed his brow. If it wasn't a Gryffindor, it could only be a Slytherin (Gryffindor and Slytherin were bound to have Potions class together).
Following the scent, his gaze fell on the front row of the Slytherin desks, where Dudley was sitting.
At that moment, steam was rising from Dudley's cauldron. Snape watched him with his own eyes as he threw in a handful of coriander from a dicotyledonous plant in the Apiaceae family.
"Mr. Dursley, I think you'd better explain to me why you are cooking in my class."
Snape looked very angry. His tone was calm, but his eyes held an unimaginable killing intent as he addressed Dudley by his last name.
Dudley did have the privilege of doing other things in Potions class, but that was no reason for him to cook food.
Who gave him the courage?!
Even as Snape's star pupil, if he couldn't give a reasonable excuse, Snape would make him pay for it.
The young wizards around them subconsciously shrank back. They didn't want to get caught in the crossfire. They were happy to let Dudley bear Snape's wrath alone.
"Professor Snape." Dudley looked up, threw some chopped onions into the cauldron, and gave Snape a serious look. "I'm brewing a potion."
"What did you say?"
As if he hadn't heard clearly, Snape's voice rose by several decibels, and his tone became even more dangerous. "Repeat what you just said."
"I'm brewing a potion, Professor." Dudley repeated, meeting his gaze without any fear.
Snape was almost laughing in disbelief. He took two long strides and stood in front of Dudley, looking at the bubbling potatoes, cabbage, and pale, tender tofu blocks in the cauldron. His face couldn't have looked any uglier.
You call that a potion?
What else could it be but a pot of vegetables? A pot of clear soup with vegetables at that!
He didn't know why Dudley was doing this, but he knew he was angry, very angry.
Don't think that just because you're extraordinarily talented, you can...
Just as Snape was about to go into a rage, a voice suddenly sounded from the door.
"Professor Snape!"
A younger student was standing at the door.
"What is it?" Snape turned to him impatiently, his grim look almost making the young wizard cry.
"I'm sorry, sir, but I need to take Mr. Potter and Mr. Dursley upstairs," he said awkwardly. "Mr. Bagman wants them to come. All the champions need to go. It seems there's something important to be explained."
"Fine, fine, very good." Snape narrowed his eyes, looking at Dudley, and said in a harsh voice, "Dursley, Potter, you two disappear from my sight. Now!"
"Professor, I know you might be misunderstanding, but..."
Dudley ladled a bowl of fragrant soup and placed it in front of Snape. "This really is a potion."
After saying that, he didn't offer any more explanations, and he and Harry followed the messenger out the door of the Potions classroom.
Watching Dudley leave, Snape hesitated for a moment before gently picking up the bowl of soup and sniffing it carefully.
His expression changed slightly, and he immediately used the ladle in the cauldron to stir it. When he lifted the ladle, he saw a special ingredient in the center of the spoon.
It was the main ingredient for the antidote he was teaching this very class.
Only then did Snape's face soften a little.
He gave a meaningful glance at the spot where Dudley had disappeared.
'He's only a fourth-year, and he's already found his own path, even if it's not quite refined yet...'