Hogwarts Raven

Snape might be proficient—or even a master—of "Levicorpus (Dangling Jinx)," but he absolutely does not possess the ability to reverse cause and effect. Ian believes he has uncovered a truth: Snape is a plagiarist!

This revelation is definitely a major weakness for Professor Snape. While it may not compare to his past with Lily Potter, it's a truth that could socially embarrass him at Hogwarts. 

The impact would be akin to a middle schooler revealing their online username as [The King's Scorn] with a signature that reads [Make the World Feel Pain]!

"You're laughing foolishly," The Witch remarked, puzzled by Ian's goofy grin.

"I just thought of something happy," Ian replied, snapping back to reality under her gaze.

"Does threatening others make you happy?" The Witch's deep eyes seemed to see right through him.

"Professor Mara! You said you couldn't read minds!" Ian exclaimed, shocked once again.

"You just asked me about that phrase, and now you're standing here grinning like an idiot. Anyone with a brain could guess what mischief you're plotting," She said while rubbing her temples in exasperation, clearly unable to tolerate Ian's foolishness.

"Tell me, who got my book?" She seemed genuinely concerned about her legacy in the mortal world.

"It's one of my professors. Every year, during his class, he uses the same opening line— the one you wrote in some book, Professor Mara," Ian quickly explained.

"The professor at Hogwarts, the one who teaches you potions?" The Witch asked, and when Ian nodded, she responded with a somewhat indifferent tone, "It's not exactly a disgrace."

What wasn't a disgrace was obvious: it was the knowledge penned by this proud Witch.

"Can potions really stop death?" Ian asked a question that had troubled many Hogwarts students for a lifetime.

"Of course they can. It's just that your school's professor definitely can't do it," The Witch chuckled as she answered, her tone filled with a certainty that piqued Ian's curiosity.

"Why?" he pressed.

"Because I've cut down the last Golden Apple tree in the mortal world. The main ingredient needed for potions that can stop death, or even reverse life and death, is the Golden Apple," The Witch explained patiently. "Of course, if your professor is talented enough, he might be able to find a substitute for the Golden Apple in the mortal world."

Despite her words, her tone carried a hint of disdain, as if she doubted that any future Potion Masters could find a suitable substitute.

Ian didn't believe it either. After all, if Snape could truly stop death, he wouldn't have been mocked by many as someone who only boasted. The original story made it clear that Snape couldn't create such a potion.

However, now that he knew the origin and era of that overused opening line, the source of Snape's classic line had finally been uncovered. He couldn't do it, but once... someone could.

"Professor Mara, why did you cut down the Golden Apple tree?" Ian asked, recalling that The Witch had mentioned cutting down trees more than once. He wondered if this was related to the obsession that kept her in the Twilight Zone.

"Because I felt like it," The Witch replied with a bright smile, her expression showing no trace of strangeness.

"Alright," Ian said, realizing he wouldn't get the real reason.

"Potions and magic are different. The raw materials are constantly changing. If you want to learn, you'll need to bring me some potion books from your era," The Witch said, shifting the subject.

"Don't you need some raw materials?" Ian blinked, confused.

"My dear apprentice, though I've been dead for a long time, I believe that even in your era, potion ingredients are not exactly cheap."

"So, even if I needed them, could you... afford them?" The Witch asked, making Ian feel a bit embarrassed about his financial situation.

"If the school has the materials, I should be able to get some," Ian admitted, acknowledging his lack of funds, but he knew Hogwarts was not a poor school!

"Hmph, I don't want you to be hunted down by your potions professor," The Witch said, clearly a Potions Master herself, understanding the importance of ingredients to someone in that field.

"Professor Snape is quite kind to me. Maybe if I beg pitifully, he'll lend me some potion ingredients. I already owe him quite a bit of money," Ian said, somewhat uncertainly.

"He's so good to you, yet you still want to threaten him? Tsk tsk, you really do have some qualities of a Dark Wizard," The Witch remarked, looking at Ian with renewed interest.

"..." Ian didn't know how to explain himself now. He just felt that having leverage was like possessing a nuclear weapon— it's fine not to use it, but it's always better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it.

"Fine, I'll stop teasing you," The Witch said with a smile. "Don't underestimate your Professor. I just haven't been in touch with this knowledge. You just need to bring me some modern books."

"It won't take long for me to catch up with your era, and then... surpass it." Her unparalleled confidence and pride were evident.

Ian felt a surge of excitement. Who wouldn't want a ridiculously impressive Professor? The more impressive the Professor, the more the student could learn! He could already envision a bright future ahead!

"Thank You, Professor Mara, You are amazing!" Ian exclaimed, clapping and offering his flattery.

"Hmph, the way you say things, you'll definitely achieve great things," The Witch said, in a good mood as she assessed Ian.

"Of course! How could I not, with such an excellent Professor like you!" Ian quickly responded.

"I'm talking about your talent for flattery. It will surely lead you smoothly on the path to pursuing power," The Witch continued, her smile unwavering.

'Was it a compliment? It didn't sound like one!'

"Genuine praise can't be called flattery..." Ian protested, his eyes wide with sincerity, as if he had heard something unbelievable.

"See, I told you you're talented," The Witch said, clearly unconvinced.

Even Ian, who usually had thick skin, felt a bit embarrassed now.

"Study magic well. When you're strong enough, you won't need to wear a disguise," The Witch advised in a serious tone.

"I understand," Ian replied, his expression turning more earnest.

"Now, my foolish apprentice, let's learn some magic." The Witch suddenly stood up from the bench and walked toward Ian with her long strides.

"You're too weak right now," She said, observing Ian's clueless expression. She sighed, "Your era... is truly baffling." Then, without hesitation, she reached out and snapped off the metal frame of a painting in the hall.

Almost immediately, without chanting or any other actions, the metal frame transformed into the shape of a standard wand as The Witch handed it to Ian, though it was unclear what type of wood it was made from.

"Magic?" Ian was stunned.

"It's knowledge," The Witch replied, her voice steady.

Just as Ian was still wondering if this cheap Professor was tricking him, The Witch had already walked behind him and pressed a finger against the back of his head.

"Let's start with some simpler magic."

Almost as soon as she finished speaking, Ian felt a chilling, fear-inducing tremor.

"Feel this killing intent," The Witch's gentle voice made Ian realize something was wrong.

'What kind of simple magic requires sensing killing intent?'

"Feel it with your heart, and then, say it with me..." The Witch's finger pressed against the back of Ian's head, and a certain emotion transmitted from her finger into Ian's brain. He felt an overwhelming impulse surge in his mind.

"Avada Kedavra."

In the magnificent hall, the flames burned in the fireplace as the Witch taught her apprentice his first spell.

(End of Chapter)

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