At exactly nine o'clock, Professor Snape, clad in his black robe, appeared at the classroom door right on time.
He strode in with a brisk pace, the hem of his robe fluttering behind him as if caught in the wind.
Alvin suspected the professor was wearing the same robe he wore the last time he visited his house. In fact, it seemed all his clothes were identical.
Snape walked past the students coldly, without speaking, heading straight to the podium. He glanced at the students from the three houses present.
His gaze lingered on Alvin for three seconds, and then on Harry for five.
Snape didn't speak as he opened the roll call and began taking attendance.
His voice lacked warmth, sounding deep and indifferent, pronounced at a measured pace. Yet it always seemed to carry a hint of sarcasm.
Finally, he called Alvin's name.
He didn't say anything, just stared at Alvin for a few seconds. Alvin didn't avert his gaze, meeting Snape's eyes directly, but with a hint of apology.
When Snape came to guide him as a first-year student, he clearly expected Alvin to join Slytherin. Alvin felt a bit embarrassed about not meeting that expectation.
After all, it was the atmosphere of Slytherin he disliked, not Snape, the house head.
Perhaps understanding the message Alvin wanted to convey, Snape didn't say much and continued with the roll call.
Then, he paused on Harry's name.
"Oh yes," he whispered, "Harry Potter, our new—celebrity."
"Pfft!"
Alvin turned his head to see Draco Malfoy and his two cronies covering their mouths, snickering.
When Alvin glanced over, Draco glared back defiantly. Alvin ignored it, letting Harry handle the situation. He couldn't be bothered with the arrogant child.
Harry felt uncomfortable with this sudden targeting, but little did he know it was just the beginning. Worse days were yet to come.
Snape ignored the farce and addressed the young wizards:
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic."
"I don't expect you to really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses."
"I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper in death!"
His words were deeply alluring. Before everyone could fully appreciate them, he suddenly spoke again.
"Potter, what would you get if you added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Harry was dumbfounded.
What is asphodel? What is wormwood? Who am I?
Harry didn't answer, just staring blankly at Snape, while Hermione, not far away, raised her right hand high. Unfortunately, Snape ignored her.
Alvin enjoyed this scene, which marked the beginning of the feud between the two. From then on, Snape and Harry began their love-hate relationship.
But hearing these three questions, Alvin remembered an analysis by some scholars in his previous life.
Snape's three questions had deeper implications.
The most obvious is that the asphodel used to make potions is translated in the Victorian language of flowers as: My regrets follow you to the grave.
It's hard for Alvin to imagine what emotions Snape felt looking at Harry, who had Lily's eyes but James' face.
Hatred for James Potter, who bullied him at school? Or guilt for leaking information that led to Lily's death?
Thinking of this, Alvin looked at Snape with a bit more pity and sympathy.
Snape caught Alvin's gaze and didn't understand what Alvin was thinking. The look in Alvin's eyes was unsettling, as if he were sympathetically looking at a puppy.
Snape rolled his eyes, stared at Alvin, and spoke coldly.
"Mr. Gaunt, you answer these three questions."
Alvin was initially surprised but quickly recovered and answered.
"Adding powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood creates a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death."
"A bezoar is found in the stomach of a goat."
"Wolfsbane and monkshood are the same plant, which is also known as aconite."
Alvin answered the three questions in one go, then smiled at Professor Snape.
Snape didn't miss a beat. Not only did this kid answer him, he seemed to be provoking him.
Without pausing, Snape asked again.
"If I want to make a vitality potion, what should I do with figs?"
"Peel them."
"What potion uses moonstone?"
"The Draught of Peace, but it needs to be powdered."
"What's the biggest difference between the Draught of Peace and the Draught of Living Death?"
"The Draught of Peace has a strong calming effect, while the Draught of Living Death induces a deep sleep."
The rest of the young wizards in the class were wide-eyed, watching the exchange. They were all bewildered, much like Harry.
Who am I? Where am I? What are these two talking about?
Snape took a deep breath and stopped asking questions. He said sarcastically.
"It is indeed the blood of the Gaunt family. These are not things you should learn now, but you're always ready to show off."
Alvin was speechless. If it wasn't something to learn now, why ask?
Finding it hard to target Alvin, Snape directed his venom at Harry.
"Did you hear that, Potter? Not every new student is as dim-witted and ignorant as you..."
"Look at other students..."
"Professor, I..." Harry began to protest, but Snape cut him off.
"Gryffindor loses one point for your stupidity!"
Then Snape looked at Alvin.
"One point to Ravenclaw."
Then he continued.
"Next time you answer, remember to add 'Yes, Professor.' Two points from Ravenclaw for your rudeness!"
Alvin stayed silent, knowing anything he said would just give Snape another reason to deduct points.
The rest of the students held their breath, but Snape didn't let them off easily.
"Why are you staring at me? Is there something on my face? Start writing this down!"
After speaking, he added,
"You are the worst class I've ever had!"
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