Hogwarts : Max Level Unforgivable Curse

Under Professor Snape's increasingly patient explanations, Dylan finally understood many of the confusions he had encountered during his Potions classes.

By the time his round of questions was over, his potion had already been brewed.

After examining it, Professor Snape remained silent for a long moment before finally uttering, "Well done. Five points to Gryffindor, in celebration of the fact that not all Gryffindors are foolish lions."

With that, Professor Snape could no longer find any fault with Dylan's potion. He swirled his cloak and moved on to find another student to torment. After circling the room, he ended up hovering over Harry.

"What are you brewing? A nauseating poison? Disgraceful. Ten points from Gryffindor!" Snape snapped.

Neville, who was sitting beside Dylan, whispered, "Professor Snape seems to have it out for Harry. The points you just earned for Gryffindor were wiped out in an instant."

Dylan kept his eyes on his work, preparing to brew the next potion. "Don't worry about it. Competent teachers are always strict."

Neville blinked a few times. While he agreed with Dylan's statement, he couldn't help but feel that Snape's strictness was on a completely different level compared to Professor McGonagall's. McGonagall was tough on everyone, but Snape seemed to have a particular grudge against Harry—or perhaps against Gryffindor as a whole.

Neville glanced at Dylan, who was focused on brewing his potion, and couldn't help but think, *Dylan is really impressive!* Despite Snape's intimidating glare, Dylan remained unfazed and had even managed to brew his first potion perfectly under Snape's watchful eyes.

"I need to work harder too!" Neville thought to himself.

Thanks to his deep understanding of herbs, Neville's performance in Potions class was decent. Meanwhile, Dylan continued to refine his brewing techniques, striving for precision. Throughout the class, he was so absorbed in his work that he barely noticed anything else.

Even when Snape was standing next to another student, Dylan would call out without hesitation, "Professor! I have a question!"

"Professor!! Come here, please!"

"Professor! Professor!! Professor!!!"

Snape: "..."

He had gained a new appreciation for Dylan's eagerness to learn. Surprisingly, Snape didn't seem annoyed by Dylan's constant calls for help. Instead, he took each question seriously and answered them thoughtfully.

With Snape's guidance, Dylan's progress was remarkable. While his initial potions had some flaws—such as impure colors or weak effects—his brews became increasingly perfect over time.

This left the students from both houses in awe. Some were amazed that someone could learn to brew potions so quickly, while others were shocked that anyone would dare to boss Snape around like that.

In truth, Dylan couldn't care less about what the professors thought of him. He was like a sponge, absorbing every bit of knowledge he could. His drive wasn't just due to his naturally ambitious nature but also because he understood how precious magical education was.

The truth was, whether in England, America, Europe, or even East, magical education systems were chaotic, and resources were scarce. Hogwarts, however, boasted some of the finest faculty in the wizarding world.

Almost every subject was taught by a renowned figure in their field—except for the Defense Against the Dark Arts professors, who changed every year. Even Professor Sybill Trelawney, who taught Divination, was a top-tier seer in the wizarding world. After all, she was the one who had prophesied Harry's role as the "Chosen One," a prophecy that had shaped the entire story.

As for Professor Snape, he was a Potions Master and the head of Slytherin House. His achievements far outweighed his age, and when he called others idiots, it was because he was a true genius.

As for Snape's sharp tongue, Dylan only had one thought: *More, please!*

By the end of the day, Dylan presented all his brewed potions to Snape. Snape tried to point out some flaws, but each potion was better than the last. Finally, he pursed his lips and said, "You're certainly better than the other fools."

Dylan didn't mind. Snape hadn't insulted him personally or attacked his family. Words like "idiot" or "fool" were like water off a duck's back to him. In fact, he found Snape's harshness almost endearing.

Looking up at Snape, Dylan said, "I'm glad my work meets your approval, Professor. Your expertise is incredible, and you always manage to clear up my confusion in just a few words. So..."

As Dylan spoke, the other students turned to stare at him, their eyes wide as if they already knew what he was about to say.

Sure enough, Dylan flashed a grin, revealing his little fangs. "Professor, may I come to you during your free time to ask more questions?"

*Gasp!* The surrounding students collectively held their breath. Even the Slytherins couldn't help but think, *This guy is insane!*

While Snape didn't target Slytherins as harshly as he did Gryffindors, he still didn't hold back when they made mistakes. To them, Dylan's bold request was like a chicken crowing at midnight—completely absurd!

Snape frowned, his face darkening as he stared down at the young wizard. But Dylan didn't flinch, his gaze steady as he looked up at Snape's hooked nose.

Finally, Snape seemed to relent. "Given that you've brewed a perfect potion, I'll allow it. But if your questions are trivial, I will not hesitate to throw you out of my office."

"Of course, that's only fair!" Dylan replied, his eyes crinkling with joy.

"Merlin's beard!" Ron and Harry exclaimed as they approached Dylan after class.

"Sorry, I always thought you belonged in Ravenclaw," Ron said suddenly.

Dylan looked puzzled.

"But now I see that the Sorting Hat was right after all..." Ron continued. "You're a true Gryffindor!"

Neville and Harry nodded in agreement.

(End of Chapter)