Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle.

Chapter 199 Easter Dinner

The first basement level of Hogwarts.

The oak door to the Potions Department office was pulled open and closed, the lock clicking abruptly, and the old brass hinges creaking softly, the sound carrying far down the dim, deserted corridor.

"Professor Snape is indeed a master of potions. Even an unknown potion with unclear ingredients was deciphered in just a few weeks."

Melvin closed the door with a smile. After all, he was asking someone else for help, so he didn't mind saying something nice. "If it weren't for the busy Hogwarts curriculum, I believe you could have earned the Order of Merlin through your Potions research, just like Mr. Belby."

The entire office was constructed from long, dark gray rocks, resembling several inverted hemispheres stacked together. The ceiling featured an arched dome with a slightly dim crystal chandelier hanging from it.

The shelves along the wall are made of Albanian hardwood, which has a bronze-like texture under the light. They display countless glass jars, each containing a prepared transparent solution that preserves strange and unusual specimens: snakes and toads, eyeballs and livers, and unidentified creatures that resemble primate babies.

Snape sat in the chair behind his desk, the room dimly lit, half of his body hidden in shadow.

"Are you done?" Snape's face was expressionless, but after hearing Melvin's words, a faint sneer appeared on his lips, his sarcasm undisguised.

“If you’d like to hear it, I can have a proper discussion with you about Belby’s wolfsbane potion, as well as my personal insights into the future development of potions.” Melvin was also somewhat helpless. Ever since the discussion about the connection between daffodils and the subconscious, no matter what he said, the professor hadn’t given him a pleasant look.

"Tell your pet snake about it when you get back to the office tonight."

Snape refused without hesitation, looking up at his unkempt, greasy hair. "Where did you get the potion you gave me?"

"Does the source of the potion matter? Don't worry about where it came from, analyzing its effects is more important. I came here as soon as I received the message from Blood Man Barrow. Show it to me, Potions Master," Melvin said.

Snape glanced at him, said nothing, and got up to walk towards the back storeroom.

After passing through a rock-built archway, you enter an even colder and darker storage room. Various shelves occupy most of the space, displaying various plant and animal potion ingredients, as well as some bottles and jars that look like finished potions. The remaining space is very narrow, and two adult wizards are squeezed into the passageway, making it difficult to even turn around.

“The potion you gave me is very peculiar. I can’t deduce any of its ingredients from its color, smell, or texture.” Snape led him to a platform that looked like a laboratory workbench. “Therefore, I can only conduct live experiments.”

"Doesn't it smell like succulent essence?" Melvin asked curiously. "I also smelled rot and blood."

Snape glanced at him and said casually, "The plants in the Rutaceae family all smell of white sage. Some can cure diseases and heal wounds, while others only hasten death. In addition, the descriptions of rotten and bloody smells are also very inaccurate."

"..." Melvin put a finger to his lips, indicating that he would no longer reveal his rudimentary knowledge of potions, and let Snape begin to demonstrate.

Snape beckoned, and the lamp hanging on the shelf lit up, casting its light on the workbench in front of him. It illuminated a simple but spacious rat cage, in which several listless rats lay, their limbs intact, their fur shaved off, revealing pink veins.

The mice's eyes were grayish-tin and lifeless, and their skin was flat, indicating that their hearts and breaths had stopped beating.

"A lethal poison?" Melvin stared at the motionless rats.

“With such an obvious color and smell, if it were just a deadly poison, it would only be considered a low-grade, inferior potion,” Snape said in a low voice. “The peculiarity of this poison is not that it kills, but that it makes them suffer even in death.”

Snape dipped his wand into the rat cage, and with a gentle exhale of magic, a tiny flame shot out, landing on the lifeless, hairless rats.

"squeak!"

The rats emitted a piercing screech.

As if stimulated, the rat carcass immediately came to life, using its withered and stiff limbs to stagger and dodge the flames. Its slow speed exuded a chilling and oppressive atmosphere.

"An undead?" Melvin asked, puzzled.

“It does resemble a puppet made by dark magic, but the effects are slightly different.” Snape extinguished the flames, watching the rat corpse still scurrying about restlessly. “An Infernal puppet does not feel pain, has neither will nor thought, and does not care about its own safety. It will do anything to achieve its goal, even if it means being smashed to pieces. On the other hand, this potion-made undead still retains a faint sense of smell, fears fire, and will flee when it feels pain.”

That's exactly what Voldemort was capable of doing.

Melvin watched the bald rat slowly quiet down and couldn't help but sigh, "A corpse that can still move after death is really fitting for tonight's banquet, Easter Eve."

"A terrible lame joke."

Snape pushed the rat cage aside and took out several glass jars containing the carcasses of various animals: dehydrated and shriveled toads with their tongues sticking out, snakes twisted into vines, bald rabbits, and hedgehogs with bluish-black skin.

These animals, after dying, become dehydrated and shrunken, yet under some kind of magical force, they come back to life. Their stiff muscles and bones twist into bizarre shapes, their inelastic skin shows signs of tearing, and their dry, cold blood is black, like some kind of filth.

"I tested the duration of the potion's effects on several small animals. On animals like toads and lizards, their corpses could remain active for about half a month. On rabbits and hedgehogs, the effects could last for a week. On animals the size of humans, it should only last for one or two days."

Melvin looked at him strangely: "You tried it?"

“You can try it yourself.” Snape put away the rat cage and glass jar he had shown, placing them into a wooden box with Nirvana engravings on its surface. “I can’t decipher the specific ingredient formula, so I won’t charge an appraisal fee. However, testing the potion’s efficacy will also require a fee. There’s still a little over half a bottle of the potion from last time left; I’ll use it to pay off the debt. Do you have any objections?”

"No."

Melvin collected a whole cup last time and divided it into about four bottles. He gave the smallest bottle to Snape for identification and didn't originally intend to take it back.

Moreover, with the Golden Cup in hand and a friendly cooperative relationship established with Riddle, they can mass-produce it whenever they want.

"Besides that, I have a bottle of medicine that I'd like the professor to help me identify."

"..."

Snape turned around alertly and saw Melvin take out a potion in a test tube. It was a milky white potion, pure and without impurities, emitting a faint white and fresh scent.

With decades of experience accumulated by the potion master, he could tell at a glance that this potion was the same as the poison from last time. He couldn't reverse analyze the raw materials, but its properties were completely opposite to those of the poison. It should be some kind of mild healing potion.

He frowned as he took the test tube, and couldn't help but ask, "Where did you get these strange potions?"

Melvin gave the same smile the principal used to fool students: "You'll find out later, Severus, but not now."

Just as Snape was about to smash the glass test tube in his face, the clock in the outer room chimed precisely on time.

"Boom..."

"Dong..." The pendulum swung back and forth, striking the thin copper plate, announcing that it was time for them to attend the banquet.

Easter dinner on the second Sunday of April.

……

"It's an Easter gift from my mom, so why is your Easter egg bigger than mine?"

"Perhaps it's because Mrs. Weasley likes me more?"

Harry and Ron huddled around the long table in Gryffindor, cracking open the chocolate-covered Easter eggs, grabbing a few of Mrs. Weasley's homemade toffee and stuffing them into their mouths without even tearing off the wrappers, since they were made of rice paper and would melt in their mouths after a while.

Next to him were Ginny and Hermione. The girls also received Easter eggs made by Mrs. Weasley. They were all similar candies and snacks, but slightly larger than Ron's, which made him grit his teeth in anger.

The Easter dinner wasn't as grand as Christmas, nor as big as the start of the school year or the end of the year, or even as impressive as Halloween, but the magically decorated hall was still a magnificent sight.

The magic dome is like a summer night sky, with huge crystal chandeliers sparkling and colorful candles floating in the air, their soft glow resembling Easter eggs as they rotate and float.

Dumbledore, dressed in a white robe, sat in the main seat, his deep blue eyes gleaming with a gentle light. Four heads of the house sat beside him, and professors of elective courses sat nearby. The goblets were filled with sparkling champagne and red wine.

“It’s quite a surprise that you two have come to the banquet together.” Dumbledore looked at Melvin and Snape, who were two minutes late, with a gentle smile on his face. “I always felt that you two didn’t get along very well, but it seems that was just my imagination.”

“That’s your illusion.” Snape said expressionlessly, his tone completely flat.

Melvin remained noncommittal, but after taking his seat, he chatted happily with Professor Flitwick, who was always friendly with his colleagues and got along well with all the professors.

"The Easter holidays are over, and the Apparition training class is about to begin," Professor McGonagall nagged about the work arrangements.

Dumbledore personally picked up the jug and poured mead into her glass. It was mead sent by Lady Rosmerta, the Three Broomsticks, and it smelled sweet and fragrant. "Minerva," he said, "it's Easter holiday, time for a feast. Work can be put aside for now."

Professor McGonagall's cheek muscle bulged as she said irritably, "Of course you'd like to put it aside. It's not you who's handling those documents and dealing with those staff."

Knowing he was in the wrong, Dumbledore could only change the subject: "Let's begin the banquet. I remember the choir and the drama club both have performances tonight. I haven't seen a drama club performance in many years."

"That's right!"

Kettleburn is also looking forward to the drama club.

Dumbledore then tapped his wine glass with a silver metal spoon, and a clear bell rang. The students, dressed in wizard robes and wearing wide-brimmed pointed hats, stood in the empty seats in front of the main table. Professor Flitwick left his seat and stood on the triangular stool in front.

The light from the crystal chandelier dimmed, and candles surrounded the choir, illuminating the slightly nervous faces of the young wizards and the toad perched on a book.

"Coo-caw...Coo-caw..."

"The time has come, the time has come."

"Toads hibernate at the bottom of cold rocks."

"Thirty-one nights in succession"

"Sweating profusely helps to eliminate toxins."

"..."

The lyrics seem to describe a method for brewing some kind of ancient potion, mainly focusing on the preparation of raw materials, but the specific details of the brewing process are unclear. This is the style of traditional wizarding songs; the lyrics are slightly eerie, but combined with the ethereal and melodious singing of children, they are actually quite pleasant to listen to.

As the chorus ended, the sound of silver spoons tapping on glasses rang out again, and the students in the auditorium fell silent. The crystal chandelier dimmed further, leaving only the magic candles to illuminate the stage.

At the edge of the stage, members of the drama club could be seen running lightly. Marietta organized the students to quickly set up the scenery. The horses and ponies created by transfiguration swayed their hooves, and Cedric, wearing silver armor, gripped his spear and slowly exhaled.

The room fell silent; the performance was about to begin.

Dumbledore suddenly realized the problem with the seating arrangement in the Great Hall. He put down his wine glass, frowned, and asked, "Shouldn't we sit at the House Table? We can only see the backdrop and can't watch the performance at all."

“If we move over there now, the children won’t be able to enjoy the show properly. Let’s adjust it next time.” Professor McGonagall glanced at Neville on stage, who was playing the role of a faceless background character.

"You can stand behind and watch; it won't disturb the children."

This was Kettleburn's last Easter dinner at school. He didn't care about his image at all; he just wanted to have no regrets and watch the drama club, which he had burned down years ago, return to Hogwarts.

After saying this, he slipped off the main seat and ran to the back to stand and watch in the dim light.

Dumbledore sighed regretfully. He had already accepted reality, and when he saw Kettleburn's actions, he tried to follow, but faced with Professor McGonagall's gaze, he still did not disregard his duty as headmaster and remained in his place.

Melvin watched as the stage was gradually set up. After all, it was just a temporary set, without proper curtains or partitions. Even those sitting in the back could see the performance clearly, but the viewing experience wasn't as good due to the different angle.

"I haven't seen a drama club performance in decades," a ghostly figure at the long table said, his voice filled with nostalgia.

“It’s said that Professor Levent reassembled them,” another ghost said. “They rehearse very hard; you can see them practicing every weekend.”

"Professor Levente's guidance must be excellent..." The fat monk from Hufflepuff was very supportive.

Only Nick, who was almost headless, was unhappy, sighing as he held his head: "With the drama club coming back, my Ghost Theater is definitely going to be affected."

The hushed whispers made the drama club members even more reserved, and the entire auditorium watched the young wizards' every move, their heartbeats pounding in the background.

"A noble mind and a strong body, summon Sir Cadogan when needed!"

The crystal chandeliers lit up, the sound of horses' hooves echoed in the hall, and Cedric, dressed in silver armor, made his entrance.

(End of this chapter)