The dungeon was cold.
Not metaphorically. Literally cold.
Stone walls, low ceilings, and flickering greenish light made the Potions classroom feel less like a place of learning and more like a warning. Ravenclaw shared a class with Slytherin, which made the atmosphere already tense before Professor Snape even arrived.
Then the door slammed open.
Professor Severus Snape swept in, his black robes billowing, with an expression permanently unimpressed with life itself.
"Sit."
Everyone did.
Snape stood at the front of the room, dark eyes sweeping across the students like he was cataloging flaws.
"You are here," he began silkily, "to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making."
As he spoke, chalk floated behind him, writing across the board without him looking.
"I do not expect you to enjoy it," Snape continued. "I do not expect you to understand it. But for those few of you who are not complete dunderheads—"
His gaze lingered briefly on the Ravenclaw side.
"—I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death."
Alexander listened.
For about thirty seconds.
Then—
yawn.
It wasn't even intentional.
Just one slow, tired, after-detention yawn.
Snape's head snapped toward him instantly.
"Ten points from Ravenclaw," Snape said coldly. "For disrespect."
The room went silent.
Alexander blinked, then looked directly at Snape.
No apology.
No protest.
Just… calculation.
Interesting, Alexander thought. So that's how this one plays.
Snape turned back to the board, continuing his lecture as if nothing had happened. Ingredients, theory, precision, discipline—his voice droned on, sharp and controlled.
Alexander picked up his quill.
And started taking notes.
Carefully.
Neatly.
If Snape expected defiance, he didn't get it.
Instead, Alexander listened. Actually listened. Potions were unforgiving. This wasn't charmwork you could tweak for fun.
Still…
As Snape talked, Alexander's mind wandered—not away, but forward.
Next class, he thought. We brew.
And Alexander Chen was very good at planning.
The bell rang.
"Dismissed," Snape said sharply.
Students stood and filed out quickly, Slytherins smirking, Ravenclaws grumbling.
Alexander closed his notebook, expression calm.
Revenge, he decided, should be educational.
And preferably subtle.