Having traversed countless realms, can you possibly be as clever as me?

"And he's probably in a really bad mood right now. After all, some little brat went from a carefree Muggle girl to a wanted criminal, turned the entire wizarding world upside down, and then disappeared. He's probably in a fit of rage."

"Fuck!" Harley turned and ran.

She didn't know where the Potions classroom was, and what was even more troublesome was the constantly changing staircases. Even after asking for directions, seeing the staircases that had finally led her there only to lead to another one, Harry was so angry she was jumping up and down.

"You can't go through here," Tsugumi added sarcastically.

"You need to go upstairs, go around the poison pools twice, cross a long archery corridor, and turn through two hidden doors to reach a place you can jump across in one leap."

“Shut up, I can do it!” Harley clenched her fists, took a deep breath, started running, jumped, and just barely managed to reach the bottom of the moving staircase in front of her.

Although she almost fell, Harley managed to get up and then grabbed a dumbfounded older student next to her and asked...

"Is this the way to the Potions class?"

The boy who was stopped was a Ravenclaw. He pointed blankly to the end of the corridor on the left.

"Thank you!"

Harley ran wildly, nearly bumping into Peeves—no, she nearly got hit by a stinky egg thrown by a ghost named Peeves. She dodged the mischievous egg, jumped over a suddenly rising staircase, slipped into a passage leading to who-knows-where, and then continued downwards.

Finally, he arrived at the Potions classroom located underground.

A dim light shone through the crack in the door, along with a deep voice—it was Snape's voice, every word sounding as if it had been soaked in ice water.

"...The use of Hellfire is regulated in the magical world because, although it is an extremely potent sleeping potion, it was also once used to execute criminal wizards. The Magical Congress of the United States has a history of executing criminals with overdoses of Hellfire, and every year there are cases of fools being admitted to St. Mungo's due to overdoses. Each of these cases makes me wonder if the average intelligence of wizards is declining year by year."

Harley took a deep breath and then pushed open the door.

squeak-

The sound of the door hinges turning was particularly jarring in the quiet classroom, drawing everyone's attention to the doorway.

Harley stood there, her golden hair slightly disheveled from running, a blush of embarrassment on her fair face. She was wearing her Hufflepuff uniform, her tie askew, and clutching the Potions textbook she'd pulled from Lilith's bag.

Snape stood behind the podium, his wand still raised in mid-air, his obsidian eyes like two knives, piercing straight at her.

The classroom was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Many people looked at her with schadenfreude, except for her 'best friend' Hannah.

“I’m sorry, Professor,” Harley tried to make her voice sound like the real Lilith, “I—I’m lost.”

A chuckle rippled through the classroom. Snape stood behind the podium, his black robes trailing down like a giant bat. His face was horribly pale, and the dark circles under his eyes looked as if he'd been punched twice. He hadn't slept well since the incident in Surrey.

He opened his mouth, ready to hurl the most vicious insults at the late student and send him packing—

Then he saw the eyes of this Hufflepuff girl, a pretty face but a brainless idiot, and froze.

Lilith Lampardo's eyes are green.

That was Harley's choice—Jack the Ripper's thousand faces allowed her to transform into anyone, and those green eyes were the reason she chose them, not for any other reason than because she felt they suited her perfectly.

Snape's wand trembled slightly, and some people were already preparing to watch the show—but Snape's response left them speechless.

“Go in.” His voice was hoarse and deep, exactly the same as usual—but something was different.

Harry blinked, answered "yes," and quickly walked to the nearest empty seat. She sat down, placed her textbook on the desk, and tried to look like an ordinary student. But she could feel Snape's gaze following her until she sat down, at which point it slowly moved away.

“We were just talking about,” his voice regained its somber tone, “the use and regulation of the Living Hell Potion. Miss Lampador, if you had arrived a little later, you might have heard something more valuable.”

“Next,” he said, his voice colder than usual, “we’ll discuss the preparation of the Living Hell Potion. Can anyone tell me what the main ingredients of this potion are?”

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the classroom before inexplicably locking onto Harley, who was drooping her head, trying to appear invisible. Then, in that drawn-out, annoying voice, he said...

"Lilith Lampador, you come..."

427 >>

He looked up at his hands. They were Lilith's hands, fair and slender, with neatly trimmed nails. Not her old, rough hands from doing housework.

“I am not myself,” she said. “I can’t even walk in with my own face.”

"Does that matter?" "Yes." "Why?"

Harley looked up at the dark green lake outside the window.

“Because I should have been my own,” she said. “Not wearing someone else’s face, not using someone else’s name, not—”

She stopped because she saw her own reflection in the glass window.

Long golden hair, fair skin, delicate features. Lilith Lampardo's face. Beautiful, lovely, clearly the kind of girl who grew up in a happy family and was pampered.

It wasn't her, not the short and unremarkable Harry Potter with messy black hair, wearing duct-bound glasses.

“That’s no longer my future…” Harley clenched her fists and murmured.

She had stepped into this mysterious world, abandoning her ordinary past. Even if the way she entered was terrible, she would never regret it!

Moreover—she had no way out.

A sharp pain in her chest reminded her that she didn't have much time left. Since that night wasn't a dream, she had really been stabbed by 'Odin'.

"Who am I?" Harley asked again.

"You are a descendant of Loki, a demigod awakened from divine blood! You are born with the responsibility of overthrowing the Aesir!" Tsugumi said solemnly, but Harley just rolled her eyes and said irritably.

"Yesterday I was still a descendant of King Arthur, the day before you said I was the savior of mankind, and today you've changed your tune, haven't you?"

If Harley was initially somewhat bewildered by the hype, she is now 100% certain that the demon inside her is a very unreliable person.

Having been fooled so many times, she gave up on the idea of ​​finding her identity and the truth—life goes on wherever it is, right? Survival is the most important thing.

“I suggest you put these thoughts aside for now,” Tsugumi said lazily. “You have more important things to do—like finding your classroom.”

"The classroom?" Harley was taken aback.

“Yes, the classroom. You’ve been wandering around like an idiot for almost an hour. If I remember correctly, you should be in Potions class by now.” Tsugumi’s tone was clearly gloating. “And even if you rush there as fast as you can, you’ll still be at least fifteen minutes late?”

Potions class? Snape's Potions class?

She had only been at Hogwarts for two days and hadn't seen Snape except on Privet Drive, but even so, she had heard about the Potions professor's 'infamous' reputation from other people.

"Yeah, that's Professor Snape, the one with the face as black as the bottom of a pot, who's always trying to kill your dad." Tsugumi laughed heartily.

"And he's probably in a really bad mood right now. After all, some little brat went from a carefree Muggle girl to a wanted criminal, turned the entire wizarding world upside down, and then disappeared. He's probably in a fit of rage."

"Fuck!" Harley turned and ran.

She didn't know where the Potions classroom was, and what was even more troublesome was the constantly changing staircases. Even after asking for directions, seeing the staircases that had finally led her there only to lead to another one, Harry was so angry she was jumping up and down.

"You can't go through here," Tsugumi added sarcastically.

"You need to go upstairs, go around the poison pools twice, cross a long archery corridor, and turn through two hidden doors to reach a place you can jump across in one leap."

“Shut up, I can do it!” Harley clenched her fists, took a deep breath, started running, jumped, and just barely managed to reach the bottom of the moving staircase in front of her.

Although she almost fell, Harley managed to get up and then grabbed a dumbfounded older student next to her and asked...

"Is this the way to the Potions class?"

The boy who was stopped was a Ravenclaw. He pointed blankly to the end of the corridor on the left.

"Thank you!"

Harley ran wildly, nearly bumping into Peeves—no, she nearly got hit by a stinky egg thrown by a ghost named Peeves. She dodged the mischievous egg, jumped over a suddenly rising staircase, slipped into a passage leading to who-knows-where, and then continued downwards.

Finally, he arrived at the Potions classroom located underground.

A dim light shone through the crack in the door, along with a deep voice—it was Snape's voice, every word sounding as if it had been soaked in ice water.

"...The use of Hellfire is regulated in the magical world because, although it is an extremely potent sleeping potion, it was also once used to execute criminal wizards. The Magical Congress of the United States has a history of executing criminals with overdoses of Hellfire, and every year there are cases of fools being admitted to St. Mungo's due to overdoses. Each of these cases makes me wonder if the average intelligence of wizards is declining year by year."

Harley took a deep breath and then pushed open the door.

squeak-

The sound of the door hinges turning was particularly jarring in the quiet classroom, drawing everyone's attention to the doorway.

Harley stood there, her golden hair slightly disheveled from running, a blush of embarrassment on her fair face. She was wearing her Hufflepuff uniform, her tie askew, and clutching the Potions textbook she'd pulled from Lilith's bag.

Snape stood behind the podium, his wand still raised in mid-air, his obsidian eyes like two knives, piercing straight at her.

The classroom was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Many people looked at her with schadenfreude, except for her 'best friend' Hannah.

“I’m sorry, Professor,” Harley tried to make her voice sound like the real Lilith, “I—I’m lost.”

A chuckle rippled through the classroom. Snape stood behind the podium, his black robes trailing down like a giant bat. His face was horribly pale, and the dark circles under his eyes looked as if he'd been punched twice. He hadn't slept well since the incident in Surrey.

He opened his mouth, ready to hurl the most vicious insults at the late student and send him packing—

Then he saw the eyes of this Hufflepuff girl, a pretty face but a brainless idiot, and froze.

Lilith Lampardo's eyes are green.

That was Harley's choice—Jack the Ripper's thousand faces allowed her to transform into anyone, and those green eyes were the reason she chose them, not for any other reason than because she felt they suited her perfectly.

Snape's wand trembled slightly, and some people were already preparing to watch the show—but Snape's response left them speechless.

“Go in.” His voice was hoarse and deep, exactly the same as usual—but something was different.

Harry blinked, answered "yes," and quickly walked to the nearest empty seat. She sat down, placed her textbook on the desk, and tried to look like an ordinary student. But she could feel Snape's gaze following her until she sat down, at which point it slowly moved away.

“We were just talking about,” his voice regained its somber tone, “the use and regulation of the Living Hell Potion. Miss Lampador, if you had arrived a little later, you might have heard something more valuable.”

“Next,” he said, his voice colder than usual, “we’ll discuss the preparation of the Living Hell Potion. Can anyone tell me what the main ingredients of this potion are?”

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the classroom before inexplicably locking onto Harley, who was drooping her head, trying to appear invisible. Then, in that drawn-out, annoying voice, he said...

"Lilith Lampador, you come..."

428

answer?"

Even on the path to godhood, there will be endless killing! : 297. The New Raider

Nothing could be worse than having Snape as your first lesson at Hogwarts.

If so, it's probably when he picks you to answer a question.

Harley stood up with a stiff upper lip, and just as she was about to awkwardly answer that she didn't know, Tsugumi suddenly spoke up in her mind with a pleasant voice.

"Pour the Narcissus bulb powder and wormwood juice into a large pot and boil them; add chopped valerian root, and when the liquid is a uniform blackcurrant color, add the juice of the pressed sleeping beans, and the liquid will turn light purple; stir counterclockwise seven times and then clockwise once, until the liquid becomes as clear as water."

Snape's eyes narrowed.

“Good,” he said. “Then, if I want to put a giant into a deep sleep, what ingredient should I add to enhance the effects of the Living Hell Potion without ruining its potency?”

“Mandragora leaf juice,” Harley said. “Giants are more resistant than humans and need a stronger hypnotic ingredient.”