I, the Dark Lord, will definitely be a good principal!

Happy National Day! (*????*)

Angor followed Snape's gaze and saw that Harry was completely unaware of what was about to happen and was still exchanging glances with Ron.

Harry has been at Hogwarts for less than a week, but the Harry at Hogwarts is already a completely different person from the Harry at Privet Drive.

—In fact, his core spirit is still the same; it's just that the change in environment has allowed him to unleash his true nature.

"Potter, what do I get if I add powdered asphodel root to my wormwood infusion?"

Snape's voice echoed in the Potions classroom—his voice wasn't actually loud, but the classroom was just too quiet now.

Harry was stunned for a moment when he was suddenly asked the question.

He clearly didn't know the answer to that question, nor did he know why Snape would ask it... no, why it was directed at him.

...What kind of herb root powder is put into what kind of solution?

This question isn't actually that difficult... well, it's for people who have previewed the material, have a good memory, and look at older textbooks in advance. But obviously, most Hogwarts students don't have the good virtue of "previewing textbooks."

Angor turned to look at Hermione, who, as expected, was holding her hand high as if afraid Snape wouldn't see her.

“I don’t know, sir,” Harry said.

Hermione gave him a look of disappointment.

Snape curled his lip in disdain.

Draco let out a quiet chuckle.

(Angol looked at Draco with a puzzled expression, wondering why they hadn't been enemies before, given how things were progressing...)

“Tsk, tsk—it seems reputation isn’t everything,” Snepra said, drawing out his words.

“Let’s try again… Potter.”

"If I asked you to find me a piece of dung, where would you look for it?"

For the second question, Hermione became even more eager, raising her hand as high as she could without leaving her seat.

Harry had a feeling that he was back on Privet Drive, no, more than that, he even felt that Aunt Maggie was in that house.

Crabbe and Goyle were laughing silently behind Angor, their bodies trembling. Harry caught a glimpse of them out of the corner of his eye, and what made him feel a little better was that Angor's gaze towards him was full of worry.

"I don't know, sir."

Snape gave a cold laugh: "I suppose you didn't open a single book before school started, did you, Potter?"

Harry opened his mouth to defend himself, flipping through the book... Back in the Dursleys' house, anything related to magic was incredibly interesting to him, but did Snape really expect him to memorize the textbook word for word?

"Potter, then tell me, what's the difference between Aconitum carmichaelii and Aconitum davidii?"

At this moment, a somewhat eerie atmosphere permeated the potions classroom.

Although some Slytherin students were still laughing hysterically, most of them sensed something was amiss.

Although Snape often made things difficult for Gryffindor students, asking three questions in a row, especially during class time, seemed rather unusual.

Could it be because their headmaster had some grudge against Harry's elders? Or is it because of the Man of Varian?

Few people will willingly tell their children about the grudges and grievances of the previous generation, especially in such a special context.

At that moment, Hermione suddenly stood up, and to everyone's astonishment, she stretched her hand straight up to the ceiling of the underground classroom.

Harry glanced at her, feeling as if a savior had appeared, and in that instant, almost without thinking, he blurted out:

“I don’t know… but I think Hermione should know the answer. Why don’t you try asking her?”

A moment of silence fell over the classroom. Harry's answer was clearly unexpected by everyone. Some people couldn't help but laugh, while Snape's face turned as gloomy as ever.

"Sit down!" he roared at Hermione. Angor could sense that Snape had been in a mocking mood before Harry retorted, but now he was genuinely angry.

"Let me tell you, Potter, daffodil root powder and artemisia can be mixed together to make a very powerful sleeping pill..."

The contents of the textbook were delivered by Snape in a very concise manner, and Angel took out his notebook and began to write in it in a pretentious manner.

Well, what he wrote was—"Snape has finally broken down, hasn't he?"

He didn't need notes; all his knowledge was in his mind... no, the potion notes in his mind were more comprehensive, more convenient, and more effective than those in books, just like the book "The Half-Blood Prince" that appeared in the sixth book.

Tom Riddle was also a genius at concocting potions. Although he was still far from being a potions master, potions that appeared in textbooks were really not difficult for him.

Amidst the rustling sound of notes being taken, a question mark appeared in the notebook that Angell used as a notebook.

Yes, this is the Horcrux diary.

During this period, both vold and Angell used it as a real notebook.

They completely ignored Riddle's presence inside.

As for the interference caused by the Horcruxes... their emotions are not so easily disturbed.

After Snape deducted a point from Gryffindor, Potions class continued.

Snape divided the students into pairs and began instructing them on how to mix a simple potion to treat boils.

The theory was established, and the action began.

Then Snape's cursing voice rang out.

He not only berated the Gryffindor students, but this time he also scolded the Slytherin students, though at least he didn't lose any points.

But everyone became apprehensive.

To avoid any accidents, Draco and Goyle switched places, making the four of them the only ones who weren't scolded by Snape.

“Angol, don’t you think…” Draco glanced in Snape’s direction, making sure he was far away, before continuing in a low voice, “Professor Snape seems to be deliberately targeting Harry Potter?”

Angel sat with his arms crossed, controlling Gore's movements with words. Gore was now using his strength advantage to effectively crush the snake's fangs.

He turned to look at Draco, leaning back slightly to avoid his voice being heard by others.

"Professor Snape attended the banquets my father used to host at home... Don't forget how the outside world perceives us!"

Draco's face turned pale in an instant.

He carefully looked around again, making sure no one was listening to them, before leaning closer and whispering:

“Angol, those rumors… they can’t all be true, right? I mean, was it really that terrifying during that time?”

Angor's lips curled up slightly; he had finally come to the right person with this question.

But he couldn't just answer like that.

"Based on what I read in the book, and what I heard during my time living at the Leaky Cauldron... it's all true, but that period is over, isn't it?"

Draco nodded. Yes, it was all in the past, but a faint sense of regret still lingered in his heart.

He looked around again, wanting to get back to making potions, only to find that Snape had somehow already set his sights on them.

.....................

.....................

Easter egg (Snape's monologue)

.....................

Every time I see that kid Potter, it feels like my heart is being gripped tightly by an invisible hand.

His messy black hair and those green eyes that were exactly the same as Lily's were like a curse, dragging me into the abyss of memories.

The Hogwarts Express was the magical beginning of Lily and me's journey into the wizarding world.

The train weaves through a tapestry of steam and magic, with the scenery outside the windows flashing by like a dream.

Lily and I sat in the cramped carriage, her red hair shimmering in the sunlight, her eyes full of anticipation for the unknown.

She talked excitedly about what Hogwarts might be like; that mysterious castle was like a treasure trove about to be unlocked for us.

When the magnificent outline of Hogwarts came into view, I saw the reflection of the castle in Lily's eyes, its light even more dazzling than the castle's own lights.

We walked through the gate into the spacious hall, where the Sorting Hat's song echoed in the air.

The surrounding area was bustling with new students, all of them filled with nervousness and excitement, but I only paid attention to Lily's expression. Every smile of hers felt like warm sunshine on me.

I still remember the lake on campus, its waters rippling in the breeze, reflecting the sky and the surrounding mountains. Lily sat by the lake, a book in her hand, and I was mesmerized by the way she was reading so intently.

Sunlight bathed her, outlining a golden edge to her red hair. We talked about the mysteries of magic; it was a quiet moment just for the two of us.

But now, standing before me is Potter, who carries the shadow of his father James, whose cynical and reckless demeanor disgusts me.

But whenever I look into his eyes, it's like seeing Lily staring at me...

How could I forget that Lily gave her life to protect this child?

I pleaded for her, but she still died... to protect her son.

She didn't have to die, but if she had, perhaps she wouldn't be herself...

During Potions class, Potter's occasional displays of talent would give me a fleeting moment of reverie, as if I were seeing Lily studying diligently.

But his impulsive nature is just like James's; he always tries to challenge my authority.

I was strict with him because I knew how cruel this world was, how the Dark Lord's shadow loomed over everything, and how Potter was the one who was marked.

I cannot let the child that Lily protected with her life lose his life because of naivety and ignorance.

I wandered alone through the familiar corridors of Hogwarts on countless nights, the moonlight casting dappled shadows through the stained glass.

Every stone here carries memories for Lily and me; they bear witness to our growth, laughter, and pain.

Memories overwhelmed me like a tide; Lily's smile and her gentle words became the most precious yet most painful treasures in the depths of my heart.

I silently protected Potter, even though he misunderstood me, even though this protection might lead me to utter ruin.

Because this was my last contact with Lily, and it was my love for her that never faded.

As long as he can survive, as long as he can defeat Voldemort, perhaps Lily's sacrifice will not have been in vain.

And I am willing to be his unseen shield in this darkness.