HP: For a better world

Chapter 11: The initial conception of the club and the strict teacher

"I'll go to Professor Snape and apply for a club."

"What?" Loial asked in surprise. "Why?" Together they walked around a moving staircase and walked to Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration classroom. Jenny was waiting for them in the front row.

"I mean why did this suddenly occur to you?"

Winster looked at the other people who were constantly looking at Harry overtly or covertly, and the tabby cat squatting gracefully on the podium, and whispered, "I was the only one who had a problem in the second year. You are the only ones left... I can't always help you. Classes, holidays, detentions and night outings... I can't be with you all the time." Not to mention that the future is becoming more and more dangerous. After the fifth year, Voldemort will take control of the Ministry of Magic... They, the Squibs and Muggle-born half-bloods, can't stay out of it completely.

"You're right, Winster," Jenny agreed, a little worried. "The professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts has been cursed for more than a decade... The quality of students' Defense Against the Dark Arts has plummeted in recent years. My mother said that the number of patients injured by artifacts and spells has increased in recent years. Many of them could handle magical injuries by themselves before, but now have to go to St. Mungo's... It's good for us to learn a little more."

Luo Ou said quietly, "I just hope that you won't throw everything to me like you did before."

Winster laughed dryly: "Really?"

I didn't expect the original owner to be such a hands-off boss... How did he and Luo Ou know each other? It seems that no one has mentioned it yet. Luo Ou seems to be the leader of the five-member group, and he seems to communicate more with the original owner. I'll find out when I have a chance...

Luo Ou looked at him with complicated eyes. Just as he was about to speak, he was interrupted by Professor McGonagall who had turned back into a human: "What's wrong with you? You don't even like turning into a cat?" She looked around the classroom suspiciously, and the classmates all turned their eyes to Harry.

"Professor, we just had a divination lesson and read the tea leaves, but Professor Trelawney said -"

Professor McGonagall frowned and said, "I see, Miss Granger." She followed the students' gaze and looked at Harry, and said as expected, "It seems that this year she chose to predict that Potter will die."

"You have to know that since Trelawney came to this school, she has predicted the death of a student every year. But, so far, as far as I know, they are all alive and well... except for a few students who failed the NEW exam last semester. They may be crying and wondering why they didn't take the Transfiguration class seriously, and now they want to die because of reviewing -" Professor McGonagall said humorously, and the students couldn't help laughing.

"In my opinion, divination is the least rigorous branch of magic. It relies entirely on talent. Without the third eye, it is nothing. Your Professor Trelawney likes to greet a new class with the omen of death. As for me... forget it, I never speak ill of my colleagues." She paused, and Winston saw her face twitch. Then she said calmly: "If you are still worried about your death, Potter, then you can practice the Orchid Blooming Charm more. Maybe you can give yourself a flower before you die."

Winster couldn't help but laugh too.

After the Transfiguration class, Winster stayed until the end and met Professor McGonagall alone.

"Do you have any questions, Mr. White?" Professor McGonagall looked at the student who ran over to call her in confusion. According to the current time, all Slytherin students should go to lunch.

"Yes, Professor." Winster paused, took out two Muggle coins from his bag and placed them on the podium. "Professor Snape told me during the holiday tutoring that if I encounter any problems with Transfiguration, it is best to consult you first - to prevent students like me from trying to turn myself into another new collection in his storage room after the five-legged monster skeleton."

Professor McGonagall said, "That's true, but I'm afraid you're still far from being an Animagus at your current level."

Animagus is an extremely advanced form of Transfiguration magic. The most famous failure case in history is the permanent transformation into a new magical creature called a pentad.

"Yes, Professor," said Winster, "so what I'm asking is if I transform one of the coins, how can I make it change at the same time as the other one?"

Professor McGonagall picked up one of the coins and examined it.

The silver-white coin is inlaid with a circle of gold. On the front is a coiled snake taking a nap, and on the back is the Hogwarts emblem consisting of a snake, a badger, a lion, and an eagle. A series of numbers are also engraved on the gold edge.

As Winster asked the question, the snake painted on the front woke up and blinked at Professor McGonagall.

"What is this?" Professor McGonagall asked, seeming very interested.

"I designed the commemorative coin myself." Winster said without any guilt, keeping in mind the fact that he had secretly used the time turner to go back a few hours just to draw this coin.

"I'm going to give it to my friend so that whoever has this coin can contact me."

"An interesting idea... but I think this kind of communication can only be one-way." Professor McGonagall said, "The deformation of one coin that you want to achieve is reflected in the other coin. Essentially, it is all maintained by your magic." As she spoke, she pointed at the coin in her hand. Winster saw the coin in Professor McGonagall's hand. The front of it suddenly changed from a blinking snake to a roaring lion. It shook its mane and roared silently in the coin.

Winster exclaimed.

"…Just like this, once someone changes, they will be disconnected from the coin in your hand." Professor McGonagall looked at the coin in her hand with appreciation and felt that it was much better than the snake face. "Any other questions, Mr. White?"

"No more, thank you Professor McGonagall," Winster said quickly. He looked at Professor McGonagall's expression as she rubbed the lion face of the coin and said, "If you like it, professor, why not take this lion coin - I was going to give you one too." Seeing Professor McGonagall hesitate, he added.

"...Well, thank you for your gift, White." Professor McGonagall changed the lion's shape again and said, "I will give you a return gift at Christmas - by the way, your design is very interesting."

The coin turned into a hunting lion, chasing a big-eyed spotted fowl, which clucked in fear.

Professor McGonagall turned the coin into a small animation.

Winster smiled sheepishly and said goodbye to Professor McGonagall.

After lunch, Winster turned the time converter twice. There was no lunch break at Hogwarts, but Winster had already taken four completely different classes in the morning, and he needed a break. He had to stick to this schedule for the entire semester.

"I really don't know how the original Hermione managed to survive..." Winster murmured, and he returned to his dormitory and fell asleep.

In the afternoon, Winster went to Snape's office first.

The potion was bubbling in the cauldron, and one or two silent picture frames were hung on the gray-green walls. The fireplace was quietly leaning against the wall, surrounded by countless potion materials, and Snape was sitting upright on a hardwood chair opposite the door.

Between the two people was a row of crucibles of different models and materials.

"After three minutes, add the processed Aconitum to Crucible No. 5 and heat it at low temperature for 30 seconds." Snape was correcting homework and instructed Winston without looking up: "Aconitum is on the third row of Shelf No. 1 on the right hand side of the door."

Winster picked out the processed aconite from a pile of materials and put it into crucible No. 5.

"… Crucible No. 2, after one minute, increase the temperature and heat for 10 seconds, then add three spoonfuls of lacewings soaked for 3 days from the fifth row of rack No. 21, the smallest one, 5 grams per spoonful."

Winster carefully compared the scales on the scale.

"… Add 8 sprigs of valerian to crucible No. 4 and stir 7 times clockwise.

Then wave your wand—and turn around! I don't have what you want in my hair! The valerian is on shelf number three behind you!"

Winster searched frantically around Snape's chair.

"Crucible No. 8 - the sleeping potion brewed there! White, use your brain! Turn off the fire and put away the potion!"

Snape's orders and occasional scoldings kept ringing in the office. Winster was confused by the orders and finished boiling the crucibles No. 5-8.

Snape's quill stopped at some point, and he strode to the crucible and frowned as he examined the potion that was still brewing. As his frown tightened, Winston became more and more frightened and uneasy, secretly complaining in his heart, why did he start testing the potion right away?

Fortunately, Snape's eyebrows finally relaxed, and Winston breathed a sigh of relief. "The wrinkled fig peel is handled very well... It seems that you didn't make so many shrinking potions in vain." Snape said lightly: "The temperature control is also okay."

He threw his robes and strode back to his desk. Winster leaned back to avoid the flying black corner of Professor Snape's robes.

"...You have to know that becoming my apprentice is not that easy." Snape whispered softly, but it sounded clearly in Winster's ears.

"School education only teaches you to prepare potions according to recipes that have been around for decades or even hundreds of years, and many wizards will forget this completely after graduation... and regard preparing cold potions as the pinnacle of life." A trace of contempt flashed across his face, "...Why are potion masters so revered? As I always say, 'I will teach you to improve your reputation, brew honor, and even prevent death' - but I can never let some people learn to create."

Snape drawled out his voice arrogantly: "That is the honor that belongs exclusively to the Potions Master - if you end up becoming an ordinary, repetitive potion-making machine - one of those pharmacists who hangs around in Knockturn Alley and accomplishes nothing... that would make me very... very disappointed, White." He said contemptuously.

The potion gurgled in the quiet room.

"…Then what do I need to do, teacher." Winster murmured in fascination.

"Processing materials, brewing potions, stirring crucibles, waving wands! Immersed in the mist of crucibles and potions day after day - I will always tell everyone this, White."

Snape stared at Winster quietly: "...Talent can never completely determine a person's ultimate achievement. What determines a person's life is always your choice - and talent is just a little bit of inspiration when you are close to success."

"Although, sometimes it seems so important."

Winster looked at him.

"From today on, I will raise my standards for you until you satisfy me... Now -"

Snape suddenly raised his voice: "You will learn how to make high-level potions here - but I will not tell you the name of this potion until you have a guess about its effect and successfully approach it... At the same time, you will use the ingredients you are most familiar with to give full play to your inspiration and try to create your first potion - Crucibles 5-8 will belong to you in the next school year."

Snape said calmly:

"Don't let me down, White."

————Sometime later————

"Teacher, can I see the African bush snake skin?" Winster asked eagerly.

"No." Snape was marking the homework. He angrily drew a heavy P (poor) on the parchment in front of him and wrote: [Don't let me see Miss Granger's opinions on your paper again, Mr. Potter, unless you are confident that you won't get a 'T (troll)' on my final exam]

Winster let out a disappointed sigh and put the cobra skin jar he had secretly taken back.

"--Don't try to learn this shit from Granger, even though she managed to brew a polyjuice potion in her second year--unless you are as lucky as her to avoid being blown up in a dirty, awful bathroom." Snape heavily stamped a P on another piece of parchment. Obviously, this was Ron's. The parchment was soaked with grease stains.

[A Potions paper is not a pitiful tablecloth for you to chew on while you chew on a chicken drumstick, Mr. Weasley. Throw away your drumstick now, immediately! Or I'll use your precious rat to test the potion during the next Shrinking Potion lesson!]

Winster secretly added some fragments of African brush snake skin to the tin crucible in No. 8.

The crucible turned red and green.

"Winster——"

Winster was startled and tried frantically to cover up his actions.

But Snape didn't look up; he was still correcting the damn homework.

"Crucible No. 1, add a pint of water to it, and heat it for three minutes—watch the time."

Winster relaxed and answered loudly: "Okay--"

"Winster!"

"understood--"

"Winster——"

"OK--"

"Winster——"