Bring a fairy tale to Hogwarts!

Victor quickly looked away from Hermione.

He knew exactly what had happened to Hermione.

Her leg was slightly limping—a side effect of the conch shell. When the conch shell's original energy was depleted, it produced this curse-like effect. The sea witch Ursula could easily solve this problem, but Hermione, being human and still lacking in knowledge, couldn't.

The only solution is to stop using conch shells.

It should happen within two or three days.

Victor guessed this, and through his cloak, he touched the gleaming, angular fishbone in his pocket...

This should be useful for the ceremony.

……

After the three students left, the professors quickly dispersed after McGonagall said, "I'll go inform the principal." Quirrell repeatedly emphasized that he had a way to keep the troll alive, and then hurriedly left again.

Snape watched him leave, then snorted coldly, his expression darkening further.

"He certainly has a lot of ideas."

He limped out of the women's restroom and spoke grimly to Victor beside him.

"He claims he can revive such a badly injured troll. With such great skills, why doesn't he share them with his students in class? I've heard that he's turned Defense Against the Dark Arts into a laughable text appreciation lesson."

"Perhaps those techniques are beyond the reach of ordinary wizards," Victor remarked casually.

Snape snorted again.

"Can't learn it? I think it's because you're ashamed to show it to others."

Snape's expression was fierce, clearly showing his strong dislike for Quirrell. Victor heard from Professor Bubbaji, a Muggle researcher, that this was because Snape had always wanted to apply for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position but had never succeeded.

But halfway through his speech, Snape tripped on the step with his right leg, and his face immediately contorted in pain.

He suddenly froze, remaining in the same position, and slowly, taking two or three seconds, lowered his right leg. As he moved, a stench of blood, which had been masked by the monstrous stench, could be smelled.

"Damn it—" Snape cursed.

Victor glanced at him and clearly saw that his right trousers were stained red, and he was walking with a limp.

He asked, "Aren't you sure you don't need to go to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Arts? I've heard that St. Mungo's is the most prestigious medical institution."

"No need," Snape said coldly. "Some of the potions at St. Mungo's are brewed by me, so why would I bother going there? Besides, I won't allow that Quirrell guy to tarnish my Potions class."

If he leaves, other professors will need to take his place, and Quirrell might also be replaced—only his and Professor Sprout's main course schedules are relatively relaxed recently.

Victor shrugged and didn't continue the conversation.

He felt that Snape didn't want to tell the truth, and there was no point in asking any further questions.

In fact, the group of professors who arrived late had gone to the fourth floor to find Snape. While they were searching, Snape said he was going to the fourth floor to check the magical defenses, seemingly to catch someone who might take advantage of the situation, but he hadn't returned yet.

When Professor McGonagall suggested going to the fourth floor to find him, one of his legs had already been bitten by Lou Williams.

It's really admirable that he had to run down the road despite his injured leg.

As he went upstairs, Snape, his face tense, cast a levitation spell on a piece of cloth, letting it drag his injured leg forward. Then, without looking back, he waved and prepared to leave.

But Victor suddenly called out to him.

"Severus".

He turned his head somewhat abruptly and said, "Do you have any knowledge of alchemy?"

"Alchemy? Go find Professor Philomon," Snape waved his hand impatiently. "His office is in the South Tower. He knows everything about alchemy, but he doesn't come out often because he only teaches sixth and seventh graders."

Can you only teach sixth and seventh graders?

Victor's attention was immediately drawn to this—if he had known it could be done this way, he would have asked Dumbledore for it before enrolling. Unfortunately, the semester was already halfway through, and changing it now was unrealistic.

But after pausing for half a second, he still chose to talk to Snape about some important matters first.

"It's not just about alchemy. Severus, have you ever heard of potion recipes that combine alchemy with magic?"

"By purifying and altering certain special magical biological materials through alchemy, they can be forcibly fused together to produce medicinal effects—"

"Where did you see this recipe?" Snape frowned. "More than a decade ago, the Potions Weekly published a paper arguing that alchemical potions were not feasible because with current alchemy, it's impossible to create materials identical to living organisms."

"What if I had a way to build it?"

Victor asked again.

Snape's brow furrowed even deeper, but he didn't simply turn and leave—not to mention he still owed Victor something, his interest in potions alone made it impossible for him to ignore any new things related to potions.

So he simply spread his hands: "Where's the recipe? I can show it to you."

"I only brought a portion with me."

As Victor spoke, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a piece of parchment, and handed it over.

Although it is called parchment, it is hard for others to believe that this paper is actually made of sheepskin - its texture is finer and it feels less smooth and fuzzy to the touch.

But Snape took it without changing his expression and quickly read through the contents.

The words above were written with the same deep black ink:

The First Key

Ingredients: Crocodile tears

The mermaid's voice

Sugar and chili peppers

Active blue clay,

The hardest stone,

Half a dozen lies.

[First, add blue clay and stir for thirteen days until the clay changes color to a bright blue with scattered shimmer. Then add crocodile tears and mermaid throats, and place it in an alchemy pot for four nights until dawn on the fifth day. Then add all the remaining materials, and finally add half a dozen lies, and wait for the product to be produced...]

Snape couldn't bear to watch any longer. Halfway through, his face contorted as if he had heard the screams of ten mandrakes.

"Let's not even talk about how the mermaid's voice and the living clay became the materials for the so-called key..."

He asked, emphasizing each word.

"Tell me, what is half a dozen lies?"

Victor took the parchment back from Snape's taut, veiny hand, glanced at the recipe, and said:

"Oh, those are materials that require special containers to collect."

"...What special container can collect lies?"

Snape's breathing quickened. If he still had that parchment, he probably would have forcibly torn it to shreds and thrown it in the trash—that's where it belonged.

"The formula you're holding is probably a pile of worthless paper, Professor Victor," he said through gritted teeth. "I'm also curious how the Slavic system's compulsory magical education is so inadequate that you still believe in this outdated formula that's like treating Muggles?!"

Faced with his questioning, Victor simply shrugged, appearing relaxed in a way that infuriated him.

"Oh, I didn't know that this formula wasn't available in England."

"I've only heard that your potions, while primarily made from herbal ingredients, sometimes involve magical crafting processes—I thought that counted as one of them."