Harry returns from Hogwarts Legacy

Chapter 26 Potions Class

Harry was different from the others. While everyone else was concentrating on learning how to freeze in a frozen state, his attention was on the back of Professor Quirrell's head.

Why on earth did they stuff so much garlic in there to cover it up? Did Professor Quirrell have a sore on the back of his head? Or was he cursed?
He didn't want to help Professor Quirrell solve the problem, he was simply curious.

When they returned to the Gryffindor common room, everyone began to discuss Professor Quirrell enthusiastically.

"I bet he has that turban stuffed with garlic, too," Fred and George said in unison. "It keeps him safe from vampires wherever he goes."

"Why don't you ask him?" Ron said, holding a Coca-Cola in one hand, "Or just take off that turban. Don't you love playing pranks?"

The twins looked at each other and said in unison, "Oh Ronnie baby, we don't want to be expelled from school."

"Or worse," George said.

"Got a yelling letter from Mom," said Fred.

The two looked at each other and high-fived each other.

"I really don't know which one of them is more serious." Ron complained in a low voice.

Harry's little biting kale was also discovered by the twins. The pair of clones would visit his dormitory when they had nothing to do and seemed very interested in the biting vegetables.

Fred even reached out and tried it, but luckily he reacted quickly and didn't get bit by the cabbage.

After a few days of classes at Hogwarts, Harry discovered an astonishing fact: the magic skills of his classmates were worse than each other, and some of them were even worse to a new level and had their own style.

It is understandable for those little wizards who come from Muggle families. After all, when they received the admission letters from Hogwarts, no one told them that they were wizards, and no one taught them magic.

However, the young wizards educated by those so-called pure-blood families are not much ahead of others.

Especially Malfoy's two followers, named Crabbe and Goyle. I heard from others that they couldn't even learn the fluorescent flash.

Even Ron, who was using a wand that didn't fit his hand, managed to light it up successfully after two attempts.

Damn, how did wizards degenerate into this state?
Harry felt a little heartbroken.

How can we improve the magic world by hanging around these useless guys?
An immature idea began to emerge in his mind. How about... restarting the dueling wand?
He had been in Hogwarts for so many days, but he had never heard of the existence of such an organization.

On Friday morning, Harry got up early and had dinner at the dining table with his classmates.

He was not used to not seeing Hedwig today. In the past, Hedwig would have come to his side by this time, sometimes pecking Harry's ear and asking for a small piece of toast; sometimes standing on his shoulder to take a nap. Harry thought that she might be addicted to humans, otherwise she would not come to the restaurant every morning to stay with him, and then return to the Owlery when he was in class.

Hedwig didn't have to wait long, as she flew back with a note for him.

It was from Hagrid, and the handwriting was very messy and sloppy.

Dear Harry, I know you don't have classes on Friday afternoon, could you come over for tea with me around 3pm? I'd love to hear about your first week, please ask Hedwig to write me back.

Harry borrowed a quill from Ron and wrote hastily on the back of the note, "Okay, I'd love to, see you soon," and let Hedwig fly away.

Potions class was held together with Slytherin, and the two houses were separated in the classroom by an aisle. Draco seemed to have forgotten that Harry had used the levitation spell on him, and he was still provoking Ron and Hermione, trying to anger one of them.

However, Ron ignored him, and so did Hermione. He didn't dare to say the word "Mudblood", and after being embarrassed, he turned his anger towards Neville.

He had just said two sentences when the door of the classroom was banged open and Snape rushed in with his black robe puffed out.

"You are here to learn the precise science and exacting craft of potion-making." He walked to the back of the podium, leaned his arm on it and spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, but everyone could hear every word he said.

Like Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape also has the intimidating power to keep order in the classroom without any effort.

"Since there are no foolish waving of wands here, many of you will not believe that this is magic. I don't expect you to truly appreciate the beauty of the simmering cauldron with white smoke and bursts of fragrance, you will not really understand the magical power of the liquid flowing into people's veins, making people's hearts and minds excited and confused... I can teach you how to improve your reputation, brew glory, and even prevent death - but there must be one thing, that is, you are not the kind of fools I often meet."

After he finished his short opening remarks, the whole class fell silent, as if they were all shocked by his words.

Hermione almost moved to the edge of her chair, leaning forward, seeming anxious to prove that she was not a fool.

Snape looked around and was very satisfied with his classmates' performance.

"Mr. Potter." He looked at Harry: "Our new generation of celebrity."

Harry looked up, wondering why Snape had mentioned his name.

"Tell me, Mr. Potter," Snape said, his words drawling and as greasy as his hair, "what would I get if I added powdered narcissus root to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry froze.

He happened to have been to the Victorian era and was close to Miss Garrick, the Herbology professor at the time.

The advent of the Age of Navigation ushered in the prosperity of species, gardening and plant culture on the European continent. The relatively conservative etiquette standards of the Victorian era restricted social interactions at the time, and the upper class began to use flowers to convey secret messages.

As the whole society becomes more and more enthusiastic about precious exotic plants, books introducing flowers and interpreting their language have become popular. The various emotions contained in flowers have been interpreted, recognized and widely spread.

Miss Garrick, a professor of Herbology, happened to be very fond of Victorian flower language and taught Harry a lot of trivia about flower language.

According to Victorian flower language, the "Asphodel" (not narcissus) that Professor Snape mentioned is actually a lily that looks like a daffodil, and its flower language is "My regrets follow you to the grave"; while wormwood means "absence" and "bitter sorrow".

Combined with Slytherin's usual character, Harry understood that Snape was feeling sad and regretful for the death of his parents.

The professor has a really weird personality, Harry thought to himself, since he's good friends with my parents, wouldn't it be better for him to just say it directly?

But...if I could say it directly, I wouldn't be a Slytherin.

Harry's green eyes looked back into Snape's dark, emotionless eyes and he spoke softly.

"It's okay, Professor."

(End of this chapter)