Having escaped famine, I was accepted into Hogwarts

In the dormitory, Kane rummaged through the room for some snacks and then used a crucible to make meatballs by hand. He didn't breathe a sigh of relief until all three of them were full, feeling like he had been reborn.

"By the way, what's the next class?" Kane asked. Harry glanced at the timetable on the wall: "Pots."

Kane suddenly sat up. He glanced at the cauldron where he had just been kneading meatballs, then looked at himself in the mirror—his passive ability being that throwing ingredients into a pot-like container automatically unlocked new dishes...

Potions class has arrived again.

Chapter Thirty-Three: Kane, No, Hehe

Harry and Ron naturally understood what this meant.

The thought of Kane putting all sorts of potion ingredients into a cauldron during Potions class and suddenly creating a pot of meatballs...

"Harry, let's go to the same group later."

"Ron, let's go to the next group later."

Kane's lips twitched as he watched Harry and Ron seamlessly kick him out of the group.

"I'm telling you, it's just a potions class, why are you all acting like this? Do you love your brothers more or your grades?"

Ron stepped forward, determined to explain to Kane clearly: "If you cooperate with either of us, only one of us will escape. But if we let you out to harm others, both of us can escape."

"We can't miss out on this kind of lucrative deal where two factors outweigh one."

"I see. Should I give you guys a round of applause or something? Hmm, like, Ron, your math is really good!" Kane clapped with a not-so-kind smile.

"Keep it down, keep it down. Although my mom did ask me to tutor my sister in math, I didn't agree." Ron waved his hand smugly, as if Kane had really been praising him.

Potions was the first class in the afternoon. After finishing their meal, Kane and his two friends quickly arrived at the Potions classroom.

Because of Professor Quirrell's example, even with Kane's endorsement, Snape didn't have any strange smell and couldn't persuade Harry and Ron. Finally, the three found seats in the middle of the classroom and sat down at two separate tables.

Kane sat at one table, and Harlow sat at another. As time went on, more and more young wizards came in, such as Draco Malfoy. When he saw Kane sitting alone at a table, he subconsciously felt that this was a good opportunity to get closer to Kane.

However, someone else quickly beat them to it.

Draco Malfoy's face fell, but then he remembered what his father and senior classmates had said about how much Professor Snape hated Gryffindor...

Thinking about it this way, let's avoid their sharp edge.

"Oh, Hermione? Where are your friends?" Kane asked, somewhat surprised, looking at Hermione sitting next to him.

"It's just a temporary cold war of anger because they feel I'm neglecting them by going to the library whenever I have free time. It's a bit strange, so I'll let them calm down first," Hermione said sullenly, her eyes still fixed on the Potions textbook on the table. Clearly, this was her pre-reading.

"Hmm, I hope your friendship will be restored soon." Kane winked as he finished speaking, because he saw Harry and Ron winking at him from the side.

They were clearly curious about Hermione, the victim. For example, what would they do to suppress their laughter when meatballs appeared in the cauldron Hermione and Kane worked together on?

Before they could think any further, a whooshing sound came from outside the door.

Snape walked in with his billowing cloak, eventually reaching the podium where he elegantly wrapped it around himself and looked down at the young wizards.

"Before the formal classes begin, I need to know if you all know why you're here. Of course, if you don't know, that's okay. I can tell you this once and for all."

"One hundred percent, perfectly replicating all my movements without the slightest error—that's all I ask of you. After all, I don't expect your not-so-bright brains to understand the precise techniques of potion making. So I only have one request: don't make any messes in my class."

Kane instantly realized that Snape was a true professor because of his opening remarks, which were so different from those of the other professors.

Just like when most people go to school, there is an experimental class in each grade, and the homeroom teacher of that experimental class is often the most arrogant, self-centered, harsh and difficult, and indiscriminately kills ordinary children in other classes and their poor homeroom teachers and subject teachers.

In Kane's eyes, Snape was probably this kind of image; the unique opening remarks instantly told him that this professor was very cold.

so...

Today is the first class, so the professor shouldn't be so insane as to directly put it into practice, right? That's how it is, just like how Charms class is scheduled before Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Herbalism should also be taught before Potions class, otherwise how can you brew potions if you can't even recognize herbs?

That's it, that must be it. This lesson will most likely just be a recitation of the textbook, with a few more questions asked.

Just as Kane had expected, Snape asked that question.

"What would I get if I added narcissus root powder to wormwood infusion? I need a student to answer this question... Ah, my esteemed Savior Harry Potter, please stand up and answer." Snape said, looking at Harry with a wistful expression.

"I don't know the professor."

Spells or transfiguration are like writing an essay; even if you don't know them, you can force yourself to write one. But potions are like math; if you don't know them, you just don't know them. No matter how hard you try, you can only write out a solution.

“I’m very disappointed in you, Mr. Pott. I thought your talent was commensurate with your reputation.” Snape shook his head, looking at Harry with disappointment.

In an instant, the entire classroom was filled with a joyful atmosphere.

"Professor, may I sit down?" Harry asked, blushing.

"Of course not! The next question is, how do we find the dung beetle?"

“I don’t know, Professor.” Harry slowly lowered his head.

"I'm so glad that if someone can become your brain in their next life, then they must have done something incredibly good in their past life, because it's not tiring at all." Snape slowly shook his head.

Kane subtly focused his gaze on Snape. The sheer power of his attack made it impossible for Kane to discern whether Professor Snape was simply lacking in manners or if he had some personal grudge against Harry.

What is the difference between *Aconitum carmichaelii* and *Aconitum davidii*?

"I still don't know." Harry had now adopted a "what's the use" attitude, like a dead pig that's not afraid of boiling water. So what if he gets points deducted and gets scolded? Deduct them! Scold him!

Whatever!

Kane now pretty much understands that Snape was really just targeting Harry. And now that he knows this, there's no point in Hismione, who's sitting next to him with her right hand raised, raising it any further.

He was just waiting for Snape to continue torturing Harry for a full hour so he could safely get through the class.

Harry, don't blame me for being ruthless, it was you and Ron who started this!

Kane watched as Harry's face turned pale and then red, and Ron stared intently at the table in front of him. He couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction, and a grin spread across his face. This was karma!

Snape quickly returned to the podium and wrote the answers to his three questions on the blackboard: "Don't you have the ability to remember everything you see? And the ability to take notes? Oh, right, I almost forgot, Gryffindor loses fifteen points."

None of the young wizards in Gryffindor were actually devastated; the pressure from Snape's classes was simply too much for them to bear, and they dared not continue to act out of line.

Just as Kane finished taking notes, Snape spoke up again: "Bring out your cauldrons. In the first lesson, I'll guide you through the practical making of acne potion."

"........."

Kane... no, hehe.

[Please consider investing a little. I don't know if I can still get a new book into my library now, but what if I do?]

(°?°v)

Chapter Thirty-Four: Frog Leg Sandwich

For some reason, Hermione suddenly smelled a deathly scent in the air. She sniffed carefully and finally found the source: Kane's long-dead hope.

"Why do you look like you're about to die?" Hermione asked, frowning.

Kane didn't say anything, but Harry and Ron, who were standing nearby, watched Hermione with great interest.

If nothing unexpected happens, Hermione will also have a look on her face later.

Snape returned to the podium and began by himself using a crucible to select and process the materials, start a fire, brew the potion, and finally bottle it.

The entire process was seamless and smooth, without a trace of craftsmanship; on the contrary, it had the silky smoothness of an artist painting.

“Just now, you saw the most standard way to make acne potion.” After saying that, Snape picked up his wand and casually flicked it. The materials cabinet at the back of the Potions classroom suddenly opened, and batches of potion ingredients flew onto each group’s desk.

"I will give you forty minutes. Normally, it only takes ten minutes to brew acne medicine." After saying this, Snape began to pace around the classroom like a lion surveying its territory.

Kane took a deep breath and said in a low voice, "I'll handle the materials, and you'll control the crucible."

“No problem.” Hermione nodded and took out her wand to start a fire in the cauldron.

As the witch hazel solution inside slowly boiled, Kane promptly handed over the dragon claw powder.

“You can put it directly into the crucible,” Hermione reminded her.

“No, we agreed on a division of labor.” Kane said, then went on to deal with the white rose petals, snake fangs, porcupine quills, and frog legs.

“You’re as rigid as a German in this respect.” Snape appeared behind Kane at some point and commented quietly, “Potions Mastery isn’t just about simple replication. If that’s all a wizard can do, I might as well order an alchemical golem.”

After Snape finished speaking, he quickly moved towards Harry and looked at Harry and Ron, who were about to come up with some new tricks, and scolded them sternly: "You two are different. In fact, I don't think you will get any positive feedback from wasting your time on potions, so you just need to play the roles of two brainless alchemical robots."

Kane's lips twitched. Perhaps it was because he had met Snape at Hogwarts before enrolling, so Snape had shown him a little... favor?

Ah, I suddenly felt a pang of remorse for my strange talent. If Snape could target me the way he targeted Harry, then I could feel at ease showing him my skill of turning pork ribs into iron pot.

What I fear most is that Snape might have some unrealistic illusion about me, that he might think I'm a promising talent and go to great lengths to teach me, only to end up doing something terrible to me.

Merciful Merlin, I apologize and repent for any psychological trauma I may have caused Professor Snape, and I have no intention of making amends.

“Look how well Professor Snape just said it. You should be more innovative and not act like a machine,” Hermione said, pushing the cauldron toward Kane.

This kind of practical project can't be done by one person alone, otherwise Kane would have wasted his time in this class.

However, Kane generally resisted Hermione's advances.

"Why? I'm doing this for your own good!" Hermione said, somewhat confused.

"Please toned down the 'mom smell,' thank you." Kane's words silenced Hermione for a moment; for a fleeting instant, she even considered slamming the cauldron down on Kane's head.

For the next half of the class, Hermione continued to operate the cauldron while Kane prepared the potion ingredients for her, essentially the man standing behind the alchemist.

As for the others and Snape, the young wizards quietly caused trouble, while Snape leisurely sprayed venom, immersing each young wizard in the sharp daggers of Slytherin's unique language.

And the one Snape favored most was Harry Potter.

After this class, he probably won't pester Kane to go back to the Dursleys' house for the holidays anymore.

You'll never know the pain until you've been cut yourself; Harry understood this saying very deeply at this moment.

“My goodness, Mr. Harry Potter, in all my years of teaching at Hogwarts, I have never seen any young wizard who could handle materials with such...distinctiveness.”

After Snape finished speaking, he noticed that Harry didn't show the look of utter displeasure that James had died. "You think I'm praising you?" he asked, somewhat annoyed.

Harry shook his head: "No, of course not."

Snape slowly smiled, barely able to suppress his laughter at the thought of what he was about to say.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Pott, you’re wrong. I was indeed praising you. As punishment for your mistake, Gryffindor, deduct five points.”

Hermione abruptly stopped stirring the cauldron with her wand, nearly ruining the potion.

"Relax, it's just a grade. It's not like it's your final grade. You can't eat it, you can't spend it, you can only look at it. It's not very useful," Kane comforted her softly.