Potions Genius

Slughorn acted rather dramatically, but he had his reasons.

All professors at Hogwarts have a great deal of freedom to plan their own teaching content. This teaching method has an extremely high ceiling, and of course, a very low floor. Slughorn is an outlier among these professors who are enthusiastic about "free teaching"—he is very good at teaching the content of the book, and he guides his students to improve their overall quality in a patient and persuasive way.

However, in order to provide "general knowledge," a lot of content in the books has actually been reduced!

Moreover, this is not Slughorn's true level. He certainly possesses superb skills, but he prefers to strictly control his energy and is more inclined to allocate his advanced knowledge, connections, and experience to students he deems "promising."

This walrus-like old man was obsessed with talent to the point of obsession, and even though he had suffered a great loss in his early years that he would feel guilty for the rest of his life because of it, he still couldn't learn his lesson.

Slughorn was now greatly surprised because he had not yet taught the first-year students the real techniques.

Even the best finished product, based solely on textbook knowledge, would only reach the level of Edmund and Pollyanna's group. Slughorn had intended to use this to select students with potion-making talent... but it yielded an unexpected surprise!

"How did you manage that?" the old professor asked curiously, adopting an attentive listening attitude. "Was it Mr. Snape's brilliant idea, or Miss Evans's ingenious thought?"

Lily blushed at the praise and immediately pointed out that it was all thanks to Severus's keen observation. He had noticed that Professor Slughorn had dipped the knife in the pot for at least two seconds before chopping the fangs.

But Snape was clearly faster than her; the little wizard arrogantly raised his chin:

“I noticed the details of your manipulation, Professor,” Snape said, his sallow face bearing a charming pride, yet his tone was respectful. “Miss Evans believes that your actions could be either to wet the knife or to raise the temperature. She thinks we can use the steam rising from the crucible to better control the variables. After all, for novices like us, it’s probably impossible to control the crucible temperature as freely as you do.”

Leaving aside how overjoyed Slughorn was, convinced that he had gained two potions prodigies this year;

The reactions of the two houses after hearing this were quite intriguing. James and Sirius wore expressions that were a mix of disgust and amusement, their thoughts wandering; while on the Slytherin side, most people openly showed disgust, glaring at Lily, the Gryffindor. Only a very few sized up Snape, as if preparing to befriend him.

"A lovely combination," Edmund commented briefly. "What do you think, Miss Copperpot?"

Pollyanna frowned as well, and without hesitation, answered Edmund's question:

"I thought the professor was doing something to kill viruses, but it turned out to be a technique? That doesn't make any sense at all."

She abruptly stopped speaking, looking at Edmund in alarm. Edmund winked at her and mouthed, "Virus?"

This is not a wizarding term, it's very Muggle-like! Pollyanna realized she had let something slip and immediately shut her mouth like a clam closing its shell.

Edmund found the scene somewhat amusing, but didn't press the matter further.

She might be half-blood, or even have grown up in the Muggle world… In Slytherin, where bloodlines and connections are highly valued, this is indeed a fatal flaw. Combined with her limp, if Edmund were to spread this information, her future would certainly be very difficult.

Edmund had no such intention. They cooperated very well in the lesson, and Edmund thought Pollyanna was very useful and obedient, a much better choice than Travers.

Although Edmund hadn't initially aspired to be a top student, he couldn't let his partner drag him down and make him the worst performer. And Edmund was always very forgiving of those who were useful to him.

Returning to Professor Slughorn, he had already praised the two young "future talents" fairly. Even James, who was prejudiced against Slytherin, couldn't find fault with him.

"Evans... Snape... Evans..." the old professor mumbled, then his eyes lit up. "Oh! Miss Evans, what do you call Margolis Evans, the author of the bestseller *The Oak Stick and the Dragon Scales*?"

Upon hearing this, Lily's eyes were clear yet confused. She shook her head, saying she didn't know the wizard. The old professor, still persistent, pressed on:

"Oh, that's a pity, but perhaps you were family three hundred years ago! ... It's strange, I don't remember teaching any other 'Evans'. My dear child, what did your parents do? Did they go to school elsewhere?"

Lily smiled and shook her head.

"You couldn't have taught them, Professor Slughorn. Neither of my parents are magicians; my father was a salesman, and my mother worked for the government."

……

The classroom suddenly fell silent, except for the crucibles of the slower students who were still bubbling away.

Slughorn froze, as if petrified. The old professor's eyes flickered, until James Porter, steeling himself, loudly exclaimed, "That's fine too!" before he nodded haphazardly in response.

"Excellent! Excellent! They've educated you very well, Miss Evans! Muggle sales? Well, what can they possibly sell?... Anyway, excellent, very good!"

This wasn't a question, just a remark. Slughorn wasn't interested in what Muggles could actually sell, nor did he want to know. And for a pure-blooded old Slytherin like him, his dignified behavior was quite enlightened.

Even so, Lily sensed Professor Slughorn's disappointment. This left the girl somewhat bewildered.

As if to prevent her from overthinking, Snape stepped forward and shielded her behind him. Before the Dean could ask any questions, he introduced himself.

Snape said his mother was a widow, her maiden name was Princess, and she loved playing with boulders when she was young.

Slughorn immediately thought of "Miss Erin Prince" and praised her achievements at school, saying that she was a celebrity who had been featured in the Daily Prophet, not only the captain of the Hogwarts Goblin team, but also a participant in inter-school competitions and a winner of a major award!

"A family tradition indeed, Severus!" Professor Slughorn said kindly. "It seems you've not only inherited her talent, but have surpassed it."

This drew a cold snort from Sirius Black, but that was all. It was unclear whether Slughorn genuinely didn't hear him or simply didn't care. He walked around again, confirming that each group had completed their scabies medicine, though only half of the finished products were effective.

Slughorn summarized the students' mistakes, then clapped his hands and announced: "Those who succeeded, please take your potions. get out of class is over."

"I want this potion, Pollyanna," Edmund called to his partner before leaving, subtly changing his form of address. "I'll trade you a brand new bottle of quick-smooth hair serum for it. What do you say?"

Pollyanna was in a state of turmoil. She had initially thought Soman's request was a threat, but instead, he proposed a barter. She wanted to refuse outright and use a potion to silence Edmund, but then she realized it was impossible; Soman didn't seem like someone who could be bribed with such a small favor…

Finally, she reluctantly nodded. Edmund happily put away the scabies medicine, intending to send it home to his mother as a souvenir. But it was because he was a few minutes late that he stumbled upon another commotion. Edmund had just climbed out of the basement when he heard James Porter roaring.

"What are you saying! How dare you!"

The boy was clearly furious; as he spoke, he charged towards the Slytherins who were chuckling. Travers was startled.

Avery scoffed; he was tall and strong compared to his peers. So simply standing still and puffing out his chest was enough to make the skinny James stumble.

Avery said with a mocking expression and disdain:

"What, what objection could you possibly have, Potter?"

James glared angrily at Avery, telling him to "say it again if you dare."

Avery seemed oblivious to the fact that this wasn't actually an invitation. He complied without hesitation.

"Didn't you hear me?" The pureblood boy curled his lip, completely unconcerned.

I said: So Evans is a mudblood.