Harry Potter's Bastard

The history of magic is considered to be one of the most boring courses designed by the wizarding world. Professor Binns, who taught the course, spoke in a rambling tone that would almost certainly make a person drowsy in ten minutes, or five minutes if it was hot. The format of his lectures was the same, always gushing from the book, while the students were taking notes underneath them, or more accurately, sleepy-eyed.

No one but Hermione could concentrate in Professor Binns' class, let alone take notes throughout the class. For this, all the students admired Hermione unusually much.

Today, they endured Professor Binns's dragging talk about the Giants' War for an hour and a half. Harry had only listened for ten minutes before he vaguely realized that the subject would be more intriguing if it had been another teacher, and then his mind wandered, and for the remaining hour and twenty minutes, he and Ron had been playing the executioner's game in the corner of his parchment, Hermione glaring at them from time to time out of the corner of her eye.

"What if I don't lend you my notes this year?" Hermione glared at Harry as she finished class.

"There is no doubt that I will fail in the history of magic. Harry said honestly, "But there is no one but you who can resist Professor Binns's hypnotic magic." To be honest, I don't want to study the history of magic like Solim, it's a waste of time anyway, I might as well practice spells or write homework for other classes. "

"Don't waste time, the next lesson is Snape's Potions lesson. Ron said sleepily, "Think about how he's going to torture us in the first class of the new semester." "

In Snape's Potions class, the students would try to grab a seat in the back row to keep them out of Snape's sight - though it was just psychological comfort and didn't do much. Especially for someone like Harry who was "taken care of" by Snape, even sitting on the chandelier stand on the ceiling would not change his situation of being targeted by Snape.

"Quiet. Snape said coldly, slamming the classroom door behind his backhand.

In fact, there was no need for Snape to order everyone to be quiet, and as soon as the class heard the door closed, they immediately became silent, and all small movements stopped. Normally, the presence of Snape was enough to silence the entire class.

"Before we begin class today," said Snape, who walked briskly to the podium and looked sternly at them all, "I think it is important to remind you that next June you will be taking an important exam where you will prove how much you have learned about the preparation and use of potions. Although it is true that several people in this class are mentally retarded, I hope that you can barely "pass" O.W.Ls the exam, otherwise I will be very angry. "

Slytherin's side was more abnormal, usually they would stare at Harry and laugh when they heard Snape insinuating and taunting Harry, but today they were unusually quiet, which made Harry a little surprised for a while, and he thought for a while that Snape's "mental retardation" was not referring to him.

"Of course, after this year, many of you will no longer be able to attend my classes," Snape continued, "and I will only select the best students for my N.E.W.TS Potions class, which means that some of us will have to say goodbye." "

Snape turned his head slowly, his gaze falling on Harry's face. Harry glared at him without showing any weakness, and he couldn't help but feel a vicious pleasure at the thought that he would be able to give up Potions class after his fifth year.

"But we need to hold on for another year before that happy moment of goodbye comes. "So, whether you plan to take the N.E.W.TS exam or not, I recommend that you all concentrate on your homework and achieve the high passing level that I require my O.W.Ls students to achieve." "

"Today, we're going to concoct a potion that often appears in ordinary wizard level exams: a palliative that calms and soothes irritability and anxiety. Note: If you put the ingredients in a so-so way, it can put the person taking the medicine into a kind of dead, sometimes irreversible lethargy, so you need to pay extra attention to your behavior. "

To Harry's left, Hermione sat up a little straighter, a look of concentration on her face.

"Ingredients and recipes—" Snape waved his wand, "—on the blackboard—"

"Everything you need—" he waved his wand again, "—in the locker—"

"You guys have an hour and a half, let's get started. "

The palliative potion Solim could already be prepared with his eyes closed. As a potion with a high probability of appearing in ordinary wizard level exams, palliative agents have a wide range of applications, especially in the medical field.

When Draco was in the school hospital in the third year, Madam Pomfrey gave him this potion when he was lying in the hospital because of the Hippogriff's winged beast, but the palliative she used was different from the standard palliative, and Pomfrey deliberately put a little more moonstone powder, which gave the palliative a sleeping effect. Only a confident potions master would dare to do this, and if the measurement is too large, the user will most likely not wake up.

The potion that Snape had them make was one of the most difficult and laborious potions the students had ever been exposed to. The ingredients must be added to the crucible in a strict order and in equal amounts, the mixture must be stirred to a specified number of times, no more or less, first clockwise and then counterclockwise, and the temperature of the flame must be reduced to a specific standard, neither high nor low, and held for a specific period of time before the last ingredient can be added.

This was a challenge for those trying to configure the palliative for the first time, with many students scrambling to process materials while staring up at the blackboard.

"Your potion should now emit a faint, silvery-white steam. Snape said with ten minutes left.

Harry was sweating profusely, and glanced up at the classroom in despair. Clouds of dark gray gas were coming from his own cauldron, and Ron's crucible was spewing green sparks. Seamus went crazy and stabbed the flames beneath his cauldron with the tip of his wand, as they looked like they were about to go out. Hermione's potion was emitting a faint flickering silvery-white vapor, and as Snape walked briskly, the hooked eyes looked down at Hermione's cauldron without making any comment, which meant that he couldn't fault anything. But beside Harry's cauldron, Snape stopped and looked down at the cauldron with a terrible sneer on his face.

"If some of you with intellectual problems don't understand what 'silvery steam' is, look at Mr. Selwyn. Snape stood right in front of Harry and Ron, and even though they had chosen the farthest spot from the podium, they couldn't escape Snape.