Hogwarts Raven

The fire was extinguished and Ian wiped the nonexistent sweat from his forehead.

"If it weren't for me, this potion would have been ruined!"

Just as a wand must be wielded with precision, so too must a cauldron's flame be carefully controlled.

Regulating the heat is an art.

Whether in potion-making or cooking, mastery of temperature is crucial. It is the defining factor between success and failure. In Ian's view, it is a delicate balance of responsibility and skill. And, as luck would have it, his personal progress reflected his dedication.

[Potions Mastery (Level 2) 65/200]

Ian had been meticulously following every step of the brewing process.

After all, Practice makes perfect.

Regardless of others' opinions, the significant increase in his skill spoke for itself. This was, without a doubt, a thoroughly satisfying potion-brewing experience!

"We're brilliant, finishing first. And the quality looks excellent."

Ian, absorbed in his achievement, failed to notice Snape's expression darkening nearby— his teeth clenched so tightly it seemed they might turn to dust. Meanwhile, Ian calmly instructed Aurora to complete the final step.

"Hmm, Hmm."

Aurora followed his directions, pouring the finished potion into a flask. As she beheld the clear, well-brewed Boil-Cure Potion, a rare smile flickered across her usually impassive face.

Their first collaborative potion was a complete success.

It was a moment of triumph.

"You're incredible! Honestly, I think we're both future Potions Masters!" Ian provided further encouragement.

Aurora's precision with ingredients and careful brewing had been impeccable. But Ian felt his own guidance had played no small role in their success.

Directing another wizard in potion-making— surely that was a talent of its own?

"I wonder if we can keep the potion." Aurora, seemingly inclined toward collecting, carefully placed their work on the table.

At that moment—

Snape, fuming silently, stormed toward them. He could scarcely tolerate Ian Prince's behavior, which he viewed as an affront to his own House's dignity.

How could the Prince family produce a mere firekeeper?

"Professor, look at our work! Give us a grade!"

Ian was certain that their potion was the best in class, but he failed to realize that his eager words were akin to dousing Snape's fury in fuel.

"Five points to Slytherin. One point from Ravenclaw."

Snape didn't elaborate; instead, he made a visible effort to suppress his temper before offering a curt explanation.

"This potion is clearly made from Miss Grindelwald's efforts. It is well-crafted. If not for your interference, I suspect the final product would have been even better."

His voice was quiet, but the icy disapproval in his tone was unmistakable.

"These points belong to both of us," Ian protested, unwilling to accept the deduction. His skill progression could not be deceiving him— he had actively contributed!

"Professor, I agree with Ian," Aurora spoke up, her expression unshaken.

Seeing one of his brightest Slytherin students siding with Ian, Snape's forehead creased into deep furrows, his teeth grinding with barely contained frustration.

But he could not lash out. At times, even he had to maintain a veneer of fairness.

"However, for today's lesson, I require two completed potions." Snape, ever resourceful, quickly devised a countermeasure.

"Ah?!"

The startled exclamation did not come from Ian or Aurora, but from the surrounding students, many of whom had yet to complete even one successful brew. Panic spread through the class.

"Professor, you never mentioned that earlier— I took notes!"

"Oh no, we only prepared ingredients for one batch!"

"We've already proven we can make it once— why must we brew it again?"

"How did you even manage one? Ours is still green! Someone tell me how to turn it yellow!"

"I have yellow tea leaves— can I add that?"

…

The classroom erupted in chaos but Snape remained unfazed and merely sneered.

"I may not have said it earlier, but I am saying it now… This is my requirement."

Ian couldn't help but feel as if he'd encountered someone even more shameless than himself.

The class, including several Slytherins, was visibly discontent, but no one dared challenge Snape outright. Ian, seeing no alternative, sighed in resignation.

"Aurora, we've got a problem. Quickly, fetch more ingredients; we need to start over."

Aurora nodded and rose to collect another set of supplies—

Only for Snape's hand to press firmly on her shoulder, forcing her back into her seat.

"Miss Grindelwald has already completed her assignment. Now it's your turn."

Snape fixed his gaze on Ian, his expression one of predatory satisfaction.

In all his years at Hogwarts, he had never encountered such an insufferable wizard! Curse the Sorting Hat— why had it not placed this boy in Slytherin?

"This is blatant favoritism!"

Ian grumbled but had no choice. Under Snape's scrutinizing glare, he gathered another set of ingredients and prepared to start anew.

"Snake fangs, dried nettles, porcupine quills…"

Snape said nothing, merely watching him with his arms crossed.

Grinding his teeth, Ian began meticulously processing the fangs.

Aurora instinctively reached to adjust the flames—

Snape glared at her.

Aurora ignored him.

She adjusted the fire anyway.

The result? She was promptly lifted by the back of her robes and set aside like an errant first-year.

"Ah?"

Her hands flailed in protest.

For a moment, she considered reaching for her wand— but she restrained herself.

"Let him do it himself."

Snape was unconcerned about the other struggling students. His sole focus was on Ian, for whom he stood guard like a watchful hawk.

"Crack, Crack, Crack~"

The snake fangs were ground into fine powder and added to the cauldron. Ian adjusted the flames, took a breath, and methodically prepared the dried nettles.

He mentally timed each step.

With a precise flick of his wand, he added the next ingredient.

"This is just like making stew. It's all about controlled heat and patience."

Ian, sensing the tense atmosphere, chose to emphasize the importance of fire— a key lesson Snape had once stressed.

Thus—

The irritated Potions Master remained silent.

He glared at Ian, searching for any mistake to seize upon. Yet, despite his frustration, Ian's brewing process was faultless. Snape had an entire lecture prepared, but no opportunity to deliver it.

"Continue." Snape was not ready to admit defeat.

"What's going on?"

"Why is our Head of House hovering over a Ravenclaw?"

The other students exchanged bewildered looks. Slytherins, in particular, seemed confused by Snape's diverted attention.

Some were merely puzzled—

Others eyed Ian with curiosity.

With all eyes on him, Ian kept narrating his process.

"Simmering is one thing, but reducing a potion properly requires real skill."

He lifted the cauldron slightly, let the mixture settle, and then added the porcupine quills, stirring precisely five times clockwise.

Aurora nodded in understanding.

Some students, surprisingly, found his explanation clearer than Snape's usual cryptic critiques.

"Cease your insolent chatter." Snape finally snapped.

"I am finished, Professor." Ian bottled the completed potion. Its yellow-green hue shimmered in the light, an exact match to the textbook's description.

It was not flawless— but it was undeniably proficient.

Just as Snape prepared to speak—

"I get it now! I understand!"

"Me too!"

"Wait— my mum might be a Potions Master! She's brilliant at cooking!"

…

Snape faced the greatest challenge of his teaching career at this moment.

(End Of This Chapter.)

You can read ahead up to 60 chapters on my P*treon: https://www.patreon.com/darkshadow6395