"I suppose you must have looked up the answer to that question by now?"
Snape clasped his hands behind his back and asked coldly, "Tell me—what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
"Monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant. Both are simply different names for aconite," Lykos replied calmly.
Of course he knew the answer.
Back then, when he had asked Snape that question, it was only because the shock of the Unbreakable Vow had rattled him so badly that his mind went blank. He hadn't known how to face the reality of being a Death Eater.
"Oh? It seems you're capable of finding solutions after all," Snape said lightly, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"If every student behaved like Mr. Hayden—running to the professor with every brainless question that crosses their mind—then teaching would be impossible. We might as well all become your personal nannies."
Sticking to his low-profile approach from the past week, Lykos remained silent, standing quietly beside his desk.
"Hmm. You seem rather proud of answering such a simple question… In that case—"
Snape clearly had no intention of letting him off so easily. He switched to another question.
"Tell me, what are the main ingredients of an anti–flesh-eating slug repellent?"
Lykos froze.
He had thought he was well prepared. In anticipation of Snape's attempts to make things difficult, he had carefully reread Magical Drafts and Potions and One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi several times over the past few days.
Yet now he found himself in exactly the same situation Harry had just faced—completely clueless.
"Professor, I suspect… that potion isn't mentioned in our textbooks, is it?" Lykos asked quietly, trusting his memory.
"Ha. Do you intend to limit your learning to textbooks for the rest of your life?" Snape sneered. "For talking back to a professor, Slytherin will—"
But halfway through his sentence, his expression suddenly stiffened.
He had just realized that Lykos was a student from his own house.
He couldn't deduct points as happily as he had when dealing with Harry.
"…However, since you were at least honest, Slytherin will gain one point."
Snape's expression shifted slightly before he casually found an excuse to award his own house a point.
Harry and the other Gryffindors stared in disbelief.
They were furious at the blatant favoritism. A wave of noisy protests rose from several Gryffindor workstations.
Ron even slammed his hand on the desk and stood up.
"Professor, that's not fair! Just now Harry—"
"Sit down!"
Snape snapped angrily.
"Shouting in class. Gryffindor will lose another five points because of you!"
Intimidated by Snape's authority—and terrified that their house points might be wiped out entirely in a single Potions lesson—the Gryffindor students could only swallow their anger and fall silent.
Their expressions, however, remained sour, clearly filled with resentment toward the Potions professor.
Lykos watched the Gryffindor table quietly and felt strangely satisfied.
When reading the books, it was easy to sympathize with Gryffindor and think Snape was a selfish villain.
But now that he stood on the Slytherin side…
He could only think:
Please, more of this.
…
Potions class continued, and the Gryffindors' situation didn't improve.
Snape divided the students into pairs. Each pair occupied a workstation, placed their cauldron on the table, and began brewing a simple potion for curing boils.
Because they were sitting close together, Draco and Lykos were paired up.
"Lykos, let's use my cauldron!"
When Draco saw the battered cauldron Lykos had brought, he finally found an opportunity to show off.
He proudly placed his luxurious gold-plated cauldron on the table.
The shining surface nearly blinded the surrounding students.
Lykos had no objections.
If there was better equipment available, why would he insist on using a second-hand one?
Still, he had another concern.
"Are you sure Professor Snape pairing those two together won't cause trouble?"
Lykos turned his head and looked worriedly at the two large boys nearby.
Crabbe and Goyle were glaring at each other, apparently trying to determine whose cauldron they should use through sheer intensity of eye contact.
But when Draco looked at their cauldrons, he realized they were exactly the same model, same size, same brand.
It made absolutely no difference which one they used.
"…It should be fine, right?" Draco said uncertainly. "Maybe we should move farther away from them."
Lykos nodded immediately.
Together, they carried their cauldron to the other side of the workstation.
Meanwhile, Snape swept through the classroom with his long black cloak trailing behind him, inspecting the students as they weighed dried nettles and crushed snake fangs.
Almost every student received some form of criticism.
Ordinarily, Draco might have been spared.
After all, his father—Lucius Malfoy—was on friendly terms with Snape, and Draco himself was somewhat familiar with the professor.
But Lykos, the student who had once "toyed" with Snape, was now Draco's partner.
As a result, even the smallest mistake from either of them was immediately pointed out.
Their treatment ranked second only to the legendary Harry Potter.
"Potter, you're stirring too violently. Are you trying to splash the potion into your partner's face?"
"Potter, what kind of chopping is that? Do you think you're preparing fast food?"
"Potter, turn down the flame. Are you trying to burn down my classroom?"
"Potter…"
Each time Snape criticized Harry, the disappointment on his face grew more obvious.
Meanwhile, Draco spent the entire lesson sneaking glances toward Harry's table, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle.
Because of that, Draco himself made several mistakes and received harsh reprimands from Snape.
But he didn't mind at all.
As long as Harry was miserable, Draco felt it was completely worth it.
Just as Snape was preparing to find more faults with Harry and Lykos, a sudden burst of acidic green smoke filled the classroom with a loud hissing sound.
Lykos instinctively turned his head.
A freckle-faced Slytherin girl—almost as broad as Crabbe and Goyle—had somehow burned the contents of her cauldron into a warped lump.
The potion spilled across the marble floor.
Students who accidentally stepped in it found their shoes burning holes through the soles.
"Idiot!"
Snape roared, striding toward the scene of the disaster.
"Bulstrode! I have repeated the instructions several times. Are you deaf?"
Just as he raised his wand to deal with the mess, the highly corrosive potion spread across the floor and nearly reached a pair of finely polished shoes.
Then a cold voice spoke.
"Evanesco."
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