Wednesday.
Weather: Overcast.
The walls of the Potions classroom were lined with many burning braziers.
Even so, the heat radiating from the braziers could not dispel the chill in the air.
Clark arrived at the classroom early and was reading "Magical Drafts and Potions" with relish.
Harry shrank his neck, scanning the bizarre specimens around him, and his stomach churned uncontrollably: "Help, those things are just too disgusting."
Hearing this, Ron nodded in agreement: "Indeed—"
Then he looked to his side: "Neville, don't you think so too?"
"Ah?" Neville's reaction was still a beat slow. After Ron asked again, he scratched the back of his head with a silly smile and agreed repeatedly: "Yes, yes, yes, exactly."
After speaking, Neville opened his notebook, dipped his quill into the ink bottle, and carefully wrote a '1' in the notebook.
"Why so serious? You don't really think that if you listen carefully, that old bat Snape will give us Gryffindor students points, do you?" Glancing at Neville's action, Ron said grumpily: "Fred and George told me that Snape is a biased bad guy who especially likes to target Gryffindor. Let alone giving you points, just not finding excuses to deduct points is something to thank Merlin for."
"No way." Neville's face was a bit pale: "Shouldn't Hogwarts professors treat all students equally?"
Ron shrugged: "But Snape is not just the Potions professor, he is also the Head of Slytherin House. I don't need to remind you how our relationship with Slytherin is, do I?"
Lions and snakes.
Destined arch-enemies.
Neville froze.
Harry asked curiously: "Is Snape as bad as you say? How does he compare to Professor McGonagall?"
"Professor McGonagall? Compared to Snape, she is simply an angel!" Ron exclaimed exaggeratedly.
Perhaps because he didn't control his volume well, as soon as he said this, all the students in the classroom looked at Ron...
Including the Slytherin gang.
"What are you screaming about again, Weasley?" Draco naturally wouldn't let go of this good opportunity to provoke, saying sarcastically, "Worried about next semester's tuition?"
Ron raised his eyebrows and warned in a low voice: "Shut up, Malfoy!"
"Wow, Mr. Weasley is angry, I'm so scared. Also, I'm very curious, if I don't shut up, how will you punish me?" Draco tucked his hair behind his ear and winked, "Infect me with your poverty?"
Ron slammed his fist on the table and stood up abruptly.
Not to be outdone, Draco also stood up with Crabbe and Goyle.
Seeing this, Harry and Neville quickly stood up too.
Draco spread his hands: "Potter, standing up for your poor friend again? And bringing along Longbottom, this big idiot. Believe me, this is not a wise choice."
As his words fell, Crabbe and Goyle laughed foolishly.
A group of Slytherin freshmen also watched the excitement without thinking it was a big deal, and started to jeer.
Seeing Neville's face turn red instantly, Harry couldn't help but feel angry and retorted sarcastically: "At least Neville and I are true friends. What about you? Malfoy, do you have friends? No! You will always be alone!"
Don't know why.
Children of this age always get broken by simple rhetoric like 'you are ugly' or 'you have no friends'.
Draco was no exception.
Although Crabbe and Goyle occupied a place in his heart.
Strictly speaking, they were not true friends.
Like Neville, Draco also flushed and said fiercely to Harry: "Shut up!"
"I'm very curious, if I don't shut up, how will you punish me?" Harry imitated Draco's earlier manner, mimicking even the sarcasm at the corner of his mouth vividly: "Infect me with your 'autism'?"
The person who provoked first broke first.
Draco roared, stormed out of his seat, and walked towards the Gryffindor side.
Crabbe and Goyle followed closely behind.
Seeing this posture, Ron also walked out, bringing Harry and Neville.
The atmosphere was incredibly tense.
The Gryffindor and Slytherin freshmen couldn't sit still and all stood up.
The smell of gunpowder spread, and it looked like it was about to turn into a classroom brawl.
Just then, Clark's unhurried voice sounded: "What are you doing? Want to fight?"
As his words fell, the air suddenly became quiet.
Clark helplessly put down his book, stood up unhurriedly, and walked towards the Slytherin gang.
On the way, the little lions unanimously parted to form a passage.
Clark successfully arrived in front of Draco.
Draco subconsciously took a step back and stammered: "Ca... Cavill... I warn you, don't mess around!"
"Sounds familiar. You said something similar on the train before." Clark chuckled and extended his big hand towards Draco.
Draco instinctively closed his eyes and let out a strange cry that even he found embarrassing.
With Clark Cavill's monstrous strength that could even tear open a magical lock, his small body couldn't withstand the other party's torment.
But Clark didn't hit Draco.
In fact, he just controlled his strength and patted Draco on the shoulder: "We are all classmates and will spend seven years together in the future. Why be so aggressive? For the sake of the sandwich I treated you to, let's let this matter pass today."
Draco opened his eyes in shock, his brain not quite clear yet, and asked foolishly: "Wh... what did you say?"
"I said, give me some face, let's end this matter here today." Clark repeated, revealing a mouthful of white teeth: "Or does anyone really want to start a fight here and be punished by Professor Snape with point deductions?"
Good Merlin's flowery underpants, who dares to fight with you.
Draco decisively admitted defeat and took a few steps back proactively.
Of course, he couldn't admit defeat verbally, pretending to be tough: "Fine! Cavill, I'll give you face. But Weasley and Potter, you two remember this, today's matter isn't over."
Ron sneered but didn't speak.
Harry pushed up his glasses and actively approached Clark: "Malfoy, what did you say? I didn't hear."
OK, you have Clark Cavill as your boss, you are amazing.
Facing Clark, Draco didn't dare to be arrogant. He pointed at Harry and then walked away dejectedly.
The conflict subsided, and the Slytherin group was dejected.
In contrast, Gryffindor looked as if they had won a battle, everyone beaming with joy.
Not to mention anything else.
With Clark, the big guy, standing here, there really is a sense of security.
Needless to mention Ron and the other two, other Gryffindor freshmen also started talking and laughing with Clark.
Clark could feel that the invisible barrier was disappearing.
It can be said.
After settling the matter for Gryffindor and earning face, Clark finally truly belonged to Gryffindor.
Unfortunately.
The good mood of the Gryffindor freshmen was soon destroyed by Snape who 'floated' in from outside the door.
"None of you are sitting properly, what are you all standing for? Twenty points from Gryffindor!" A trace of impatience flashed across Snape's sallow face: "I'll count to three, whoever isn't seated properly, another twenty points deducted."
To be fair, the Slytherin side wasn't seated properly either, but Snape acted as if he didn't see it and didn't care at all.
Encountering such a biased professor, the little lions really had no choice but to scramble back to their seats.
Even so, Snape forcibly picked on Neville, saying he wasn't sitting properly, and took the opportunity to deduct another twenty points from Gryffindor.
With the points deducted, Neville was about to cry from grievance.
Seeing this, Snape sneered: "If you dare to shed a tear, Mr. Longbottom, I will deduct another twenty points from you in the name of polluting the Potions classroom."
Neville had to bite his lip hard to stop the tears from falling.
Snape snorted coldly, finally letting go of this unlucky round-faced boy, and walked up to the podium on his own:
"Regardless of what happened before, focus your attention now. I don't like talking nonsense, so don't make me say it a second time... Open the first page of the textbook, let's start the class."
"The subject I teach does not require you to wave your wands foolishly, nor does it require reciting ridiculous incantations."
"I tell you clearly, most of you, or ninety-nine percent of you, will never understand the profound knowledge of potion-making in your entire lives."
"However, for the very few talented people, I can teach them how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses; I can teach them how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even stopper death."
"Those potions in cauldrons and crystal bottles will help him win fame and forge glory."
"Even... resist death!"
While saying this, Snape kept staring at Draco.
Draco was finally happy and cooperated by showing a slightly cunning smile.
Snape withdrew his gaze lightly.
Immediately after, his eyes fell on the Gryffindor side...
Specifically, on Harry.
"Speaking of which, perhaps some of you have already won some insignificant fame before coming to Hogwarts... Mr. Potter, please stand up and repeat what I said after stepping onto the podium." Snape crossed his arms and spoke in a tone without a single fluctuation.
Harry didn't expect to be called, stood up flustered, and stammered: "Regardless of what happened before, now... now focus your attention..."
Not everyone can have a photographic memory like Clark.
After saying only a few sentences, Harry couldn't continue.
Snape smiled sinisterly: "Not listening carefully in class, thirty points deducted!"
Thirty points!
Harry felt dizzy.
Many Gryffindor freshmen expressed protest.
Snape lifted his chin arrogantly: "What, do you have an opinion?"
Of course, they had an opinion.
But they didn't dare to have an opinion openly.
If all Gryffindor points were deducted in one class, what about future deductions?
It can't turn into negative points, right?
The little lions lowered their heads full of indignation.
Snape sneered, walked off the podium proactively, and slowly approached Harry: "Tell me, Potter, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Harry swallowed, nervously pinching the corner of his robe: "I... I don't know."
"Ignorant, what should I say about you..." Snape's voice unconsciously became lighter.
But soon, this old bat returned to his usual appearance, crossing his arms: "Another twenty points deducted!"
Even if you are a professor, you can't be this unscrupulous, right?
The little lions were angry!
But they couldn't explode, only burying their heads in sulking.
"I know, Professor Snape, I know!" Separated by a few seats, Hermione suddenly raised her hand: "I know the answer to this question, can you not deduct points?"
But Snape didn't even look at her, instead calling Clark's name: "Mr. Cavill, stand up."
"Okay, Professor." Clark scratched his face and stood up.
"Answer me, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" Snape asked in a deep voice.
Clark answered affirmatively: "In the stomach of an animal, cows, sheep, pigs, or dogs will do."
"Oh?" Snape showed a surprised look: "Mr. Cavill, it seems you are not just growing in height but not in brains... Then answer my next question, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
Clark said without thinking: "No difference, Professor. They are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite."
"Well answered..." Snape frowned slightly.
He thought for a moment and suddenly smiled: "Last question, Mr. Cavill. If you can answer correctly, all previous point deductions will be canceled. But if you can't answer, you will also be deducted twenty... no, ten points."
Hearing this, Clark instantly became nervous.
The surrounding little lions seemed resigned to their fate, listless one by one, forming a sharp contrast with before class.
Snape still crossed his arms and said in a deep voice: "Tell me, how should fluxweed be picked?"
Hmm?
Clark's heart moved, and he suddenly looked at Hermione.
Hermione happened to be looking at Clark too.
Their eyes met.
Everything was understood without words!
Clark took a deep breath and said with extreme confidence: "Fluxweed must be picked at the full moon to not lose its potency; the specific operation is..."
This question couldn't be found in "Magical Drafts and Potions", but Clark had seen the correct answer in Hermione's notebook.
Listening to Clark's standard answer, Snape's eyelids twitched imperceptibly.
He seemed a bit annoyed.
But meeting Clark's green eyes, Snape's heart softened, and he couldn't say any harsh words. He just pressed his hand down, signaling Clark to sit.
The points are back!
The Gryffindor freshmen wished they could applaud and cheer.
But with Snape present, this joy could only be hidden in their hearts, not even daring to show it outwardly.
Otherwise, who knows if Snape would find another excuse to deduct points from them.
"So—what are you waiting for? Waiting for knowledge to jump into your brains by itself!" Snape's face darkened, emitting a terrifying aura: "Everyone, take notes quickly!"
These words seemed to flip a switch, and the Gryffindor and Slytherin freshmen reacted one after another. Instantly, the sound of 'rustle, rustle, rustle' writing filled the whole classroom.
Harry took the opportunity to sit down.
Seeing this, Snape pursed his lips but didn't say anything more.
When most people stopped writing, he returned to the podium and assigned the task for this class—brewing a 'Cure for Boils'.