Hogwarts: From Little Wizard to White Lord

Peter and Snape spent the remainder of the day in the potions office, completely absorbed in their experiments.

Together, they tested the principles behind Peter's technique for extracting magical essence from potion ingredients. Snape observed closely while Peter demonstrated, then took turns applying the method himself.

Peter held nothing back.

He shared every detail of the process he had developed so far. In this early stage of refining a new magical technique, he believed that open collaboration was critical. Holding back information would only stall progress.

"The core of this idea came from a question I asked myself when I first began studying potions," Peter explained as he added a carefully measured extract to the brew.

"What exactly is a magic potion? Why does combining these ingredients create effects that a single component cannot? More importantly, which part of each material is actually contributing to the magic?"

Snape didn't interrupt. He simply watched, wand in hand, fire flickering beneath the cauldron.

"I started with the most basic blood-replenishing potion. Then I created a series of control groups, adjusting the ratios of every ingredient. I tested how different qualities and concentrations affected the results. Through the outcomes, I categorized each component as either effective, harmful, or completely useless."

Peter spoke as if it had been a simple academic exercise.

But the truth behind those experiments was far grimmer.

He had used mice many of them just as medical researchers in his previous life had done. Small wounds had been made to test healing speed. Some mice had been dissected to study internal effects. He needed concrete data on how the potions interacted with living tissue.

Snape, still focused on the potion, knew immediately what Peter was implying.

And he didn't bat an eye.

He was, after all, a man who had once served Voldemort. He had seen far worse. The suffering of lab animals wasn't something that stirred his conscience anymore.

Peter continued.

"Once I identified the active components, I returned to the raw materials and began stripping away their magical properties, layer by layer. I modeled the method on how Transfiguration disassembles physical structure."

Snape raised his wand and guided his magic into the cauldron.

For a moment, something strange passed through his mind a flicker of clarity. He could almost sense the structure of the material breaking apart, like visualizing a spell unwinding.

He narrowed his eyes.

This wasn't just potion-making. This was a process very similar to Transfiguration.

The technique was undeniably powerful, but it came with its own set of challenges.

Maintaining a steady flow of magic while ensuring the material components in the crucible weren't disturbed was far from easy. Every movement of magical essence had to be smooth, uninterrupted. Even a slight error could ruin the balance.

At the same time, the caster had to sort through the structural image of the ingredients flashing through their mind disassembling, analyzing, and interpreting them quickly, all while the potion brewed at a delicate temperature.

Snape's brow grew damp with sweat without him even realizing it.

He didn't stop.

Years of experience brewing potions had trained his mind to recognize the properties of ingredients almost instinctively. Even if his aptitude for Transfiguration was only average, his deep understanding of magical materials gave him an edge.

On his sixth attempt, he finally succeeded.

The faint shimmer in the liquid told him the properties had been successfully isolated. Snape let out a breath, drew back his wand, and stepped aside.

Peter moved in without a word, stirring the mixture five times. Then, with a practiced wave of his wand, the color shifted, and the potion turned into a brilliant blue.

Snape stared at the result, lost in thought.

The ingredients had aligned perfectly. The layering of magical effects had been stable. It worked.

After a long silence, he finally spoke.

"This is far too difficult. It requires not only magical control, but a rare combination of talents one in potions, one in Transfiguration."

He paused, then added, "And a deep familiarity with how magical ingredients behave."

"Yes," Peter agreed with a sigh. "I once corresponded with a potion-maker who supported my theory. I taught him everything, step by step. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't replicate the technique."

"That's when I realized this method is still too raw. Too unstable. It needs refining."

Snape didn't answer right away.

But then he gave a rare nod.

"It may be immature. But it's valuable."

Peter smiled.

Both he and Snape were potions experts in their own right, and they understood something fundamental no technique is born fully developed. From its first rough sketch to a refined, widely accepted method, every magical innovation follows the same arc: research, testing, revision, and eventually, mastery.

The only question that mattered was whether the technique was worth the effort.

In this case, it clearly was.

The magic extraction method had potential.

Snape's expression returned to its familiar blank slate, but his eyes remained fixed on the blue-tinted scabies potion.

"Do you have any direction for further development?" he asked, voice low and focused.

Peter nodded. "Yes, but it's not easy."

"Explain."

"I need access to more advanced ingredients and complex potions. The more familiar I become with diverse properties, the better I can refine the method. But beyond that... there's a specific spell that could drastically improve the process."

Snape's gaze sharpened.

"You want to learn Scapin Apparition?"

"Yes, Professor."

Snape stared at him, his dark eyes unreadable.

"You know that spell is restricted by the Ministry of Magic," he said slowly. "Pharmacists and alchemists fought for that ban. It undermines their exclusive control over potion analysis. If it became common, every skilled wizard could break down compound formulas."

Peter nodded with a smile. "I know. But this is for research. I'm not asking to spread it... only to use it to strengthen the method."

Snape didn't respond at once. His silence stretched as he weighed the request.

Peter waited patiently.

After a long pause, Snape finally spoke, his voice dry and quiet.

"What else do you need?"

Peter didn't hesitate.

"I want to study advanced spellcraft. As you said earlier, this method of magic extraction is too difficult for most people to learn. That's why I hope to analyze the patterns behind how magical properties behave in different materials and build a universal model."

He stepped closer, voice calm but full of purpose.

"If I can identify consistent magical behavior across materials, I want to turn those findings into spells standardized magical sequences that make the extraction process easier and more accessible."

That was his real goal. The reason he had invested two years into this idea, long before he ever stepped foot in Hogwarts.

It was also why, from the very beginning, he had chosen Snape.

Peter had done his research. He knew Snape well enough to believe that the man wouldn't turn him away.

Snape didn't answer immediately. His face was unreadable as always, his features hard in the dim firelight. The flickering flames behind him cast deep shadows across the room.

But finally, he gave a simple reply.

"Come to my office next Saturday."

Then he turned away.

"Now go. It's late."

Peter bowed slightly. "Thank you, Professor."

He made it all the way to the door before pausing.

"One more thing, Professor," he asked, glancing over his shoulder. "How do you plan to convince Headmaster Dumbledore? I've heard he doesn't usually approve of Slytherins teaching students advanced magic especially ones like me."

Snape stood still, framed by the only light in the room the glow of the fireplace at his back. His face was hidden in shadow.

His voice was slow and even.

"He will agree, Peter Weasley."

A pause.

"From what I hear... Dumbledore is quite fond of your habit of socializing across House lines."

Peter blinked. "Ah... really?"

He didn't get an answer.

But the corners of Snape's mouth curled ever so slightly, just out of sight.

Peter shrugged and walked off without another word.

It was clear now. Dumbledore had been keeping an eye on him all along.

From Snape's words, it wasn't hard to figure out. The old man was paying attention to his every move at Hogwarts.

Clicking his tongue, Peter muttered to himself, "The great white wizard is acting like he's seen a ghost. I bet Tom scared him half to death."

Still, Peter didn't take it too seriously. He had accepted this reality the day he chose Slytherin.

He would not change his path just to ease Dumbledore's suspicion. Nor would he complain about being watched. If anything, it confirmed that he had made an impression.

What did surprise him, however, was that his habit of wandering between Houses had actually won the old man's approval.

Peter kept thinking about it even after he returned to the Slytherin common room.

Did Dumbledore really think he was some peace-loving social butterfly? A bridge between Houses? A bright-eyed advocate of inter-House friendship?

He scoffed, tossing himself onto the green velvet armchair near the fire.

"Ridiculous. I only go to Ravenclaw for the snacks and free dessert. And maybe the company's decent... sometimes."

Feeling slightly offended that his true motivations were being misunderstood as virtue, Peter decided to double down on his so-called "bridging of Houses."

That night, he paid Ravenclaw another visit.

He stayed late in their common room, chatting, laughing, and entertaining a few curious young witches with strange riddles and candy from Honeydukes.

Fruit Tea, with a biscuit in his mouth, rolled lazily at his feet.

By the time he finally left, the night was deep, and even the bronze door knocker seemed drowsy.

Peter whistled softly as he walked back through the halls, completely unbothered.

If the Headmaster wanted to interpret his actions as kindness, let him.

He wasn't about to correct that impression.

Not yet.