During the first week of school, aside from helping Quirrell turn himself into a laughingstock at his request, Lykos had kept an extremely low profile.
No sneaking out at night.
No wandering into the Forbidden Forest.
No fighting.
No conflicts with students from other houses.
In fact, apart from that one Defense Against the Dark Arts class, he rarely even answered questions in class.
It was practically a disgrace to all transmigrators!
But Lykos had his reasons.
Behind the scenes, he carried the identity of Voldemort's undercover agent—a Death Eater. If that identity were ever exposed, it could easily cost him his life.
How could he possibly act like the other young wizards, showing off without a care in the world?
So over the following days, Lykos did his best to become invisible, quietly absorbing all kinds of magical knowledge through his classes and textbooks.
However, no matter how low-key he tried to be, there was still one stubborn professor who remembered him very clearly…
…
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making."
Snape stood at the front of the classroom and spoke softly.
His voice was barely louder than a whisper, yet every student heard each word clearly—and felt chilled by the cold authority behind it.
Without any effort at all, the Potions professor brought the entire classroom under control.
"Since there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic…" Snape continued, his tone suddenly turning colder.
"Some of you may even believe that your cauldrons are meant for cooking!"
At the workstation beside Lykos and Draco, Crabbe and Goyle—who had been staring intently at their cauldron—quickly wiped the drool from the corners of their mouths.
"I do not expect you to truly understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes and delicate aromas. Nor will you understand the subtle power of the liquid that creeps through human veins, bewitching the mind and ensnaring the senses…"
Lykos silently repeated Snape's speech in his mind, feeling oddly satisfied.
After all, this was a classic scene countless fanfiction writers used to pad their chapters. He had seen it dozens—if not hundreds—of times.
"I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stop death—"
Snape continued with a cold expression. Yet these familiar words felt strangely nostalgic to Lykos.
"That is, if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
When he finished his opening speech, the classroom fell into complete silence.
"Potter!"
Snape suddenly turned toward a boy wearing round glasses and locked eyes with him.
"If I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood, what would I get?"
"I don't know, sir," the famous Boy Who Lived answered, clearly caught off guard.
Snape curled his lip in disdain.
Draco, seated beside Lykos, covered his mouth and snickered with malicious delight.
"Tut, tut… seems fame isn't everything."
As Snape looked at Harry's face, he seemed to recall someone else. A trace of concealed disgust appeared on his expression.
Yet when his gaze fell on Harry's eyes, his expression became complicated.
"Let us try again…" Snape murmured in a low voice, as if speaking either to Harry—or to himself.
"Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
A bushy-haired brown-haired girl raised her hand high into the air.
But Harry clearly had no idea what a bezoar was, and his face showed complete confusion.
Draco found Harry's predicament absolutely delightful, laughing so hard his shoulders shook.
Crabbe and Goyle didn't even know what Draco was laughing about, but they shook their shoulders enthusiastically anyway to match him.
Lykos, however, didn't laugh.
Instead, he sighed.
In truth, the question about bezoars carried a deeper story.
Harry's mother, Lily Evans, had once been asked to brew an antidote potion during a Potions class. Instead of brewing it, she simply produced a bezoar.
It had been one of the brightest moments of her school years—and a memory Snape had never forgotten.
Yet when Lily's own son faced the same concept, Harry's answer was…
"I don't know, sir."
A flicker of unprecedented disappointment appeared in Snape's eyes.
At that moment, he finally confirmed something.
Lily's son did not resemble her at all.
Instead, he resembled his detestable father.
Even though the disappointment ran deep, Snape concealed his emotions perfectly. Almost no student noticed the change.
"I suppose you didn't open a single book before coming to school, did you, Potter?" His voice became even colder.
Harry forced himself to meet Snape's icy gaze. Irritation stirred within him.
To him, the Potions professor seemed to be deliberately picking on him.
"Sir, I've looked through all the textbooks," Harry replied. "But how could I possibly memorize everything in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi?"
"Excuses!" Snape snapped, still measuring him against Lily's standards. "Why is it that others can memorize those books before school begins, while you cannot?"
Harry assumed the "others" Snape mentioned referred to Hermione, who was still waving her hand eagerly.
"Professor, if Hermione knows the answer, why don't you ask her?" he muttered.
"Heh… very well."
A flash of anger crossed Snape's eyes.
"Potter, for talking back to a professor, Gryffindor will lose five points."
"Let me enlighten you, Potter. Asphodel and wormwood combined make a powerful sleeping potion known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and serves as a powerful antidote to most poisons."
Then he abruptly turned his gaze toward the rest of the class.
"Well? Why aren't you all writing this down?!"
The scratching of quills against parchment immediately filled the Potions classroom.
"Hayden. If you've finished writing, stand up."
Before the students had even finished copying the notes, Snape's voice rang out again.
Lykos slapped his forehead internally.
This is bad.
On the night after the opening feast, he had intended to approach Snape and reveal the truth about Voldemort.
But because of the Unbreakable Vow, he had been forced to replace his original plan with a simple question.
Snape believed Lykos had made a fool of him.
And judging from the situation now…
Even after a whole week, he clearly hadn't let it go.
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