HPDBC Chapter 293, Section 292: What is a Professor? A Master of Horror!
Chapter 293, Section 292: What is a Professor? A Master of Horror!
Chapter 293, Section 292: What is a Professor? A Master of Horror!
Sunlight streamed onto the ancient Hogwarts castle. She looked helplessly at the lesson plan and potion ingredient list Snape had given her. No one could have predicted what would happen today.
It's practically magical.
Such an absurd fact is something you could hardly imagine, even in your dreams.
Hermione never imagined it.
I am honored to become a professor at Hogwarts.
And this happened when I was still in first grade.
of course.
It certainly wasn't in his original identity.
This was the day she was to take over Professor Snape's Potions class. Although she knew it wouldn't be an easy task, she had no choice but to bite the bullet and pretend to be Snape.
Because she did something that went against Snape's "character," Hermione ran away quickly when facing Professor Lockhart, mainly because her usual habit of respecting her teacher was too effective.
"Oops!"
Hermione slipped away very quickly.
She was thinking that Lockhart wouldn't react, which would be equivalent to her not showing her little chicken feet—a slightly childish idea, but what could she do when she was indeed just a first-grader?
Eleven years old.
Even a little adult can still be a little kid at heart. That's why Hermione didn't hear Lockhart's final whisper and didn't realize that a small oversight would lead to her being exposed.
of course.
The flower language of the identity "Lockhart" itself is about impersonation, so Aurora, who took the place of her grandfather and wore Lockhart's face, was no different.
She wouldn't expose Hermione either.
This allowed Hermione to escape unscathed.
"Next up are the first-year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs." For Hermione, not having to attend classes with classmates from the same house and year today was a stroke of good luck amidst misfortune.
Since school has only been in session for a short time.
Snape's terrifying reputation was only just beginning to emerge in these two houses, and the young wizards chattered like a flock of sparrows, full of curiosity and unease.
"Quiet!" Hermione shouted in her lowest voice, but to little avail. She took a deep breath and, remembering Snape's usual manner, slammed her hand on the podium.
"Looks like someone wants to be boiled into a magic potion by me!"
This was a stolen idea from Ron, and it must be said that it worked really well for the first-year wizards. Everyone was terrified, and the classroom fell silent instantly.
"Today we're going to learn a potion that even a pig could learn," Hermione said, writing the steps on the blackboard as she did so. The sound of chalk scraping against the blackboard was particularly clear in the quiet classroom.
The first-grade curriculum was clearly no challenge for the little witch. Her own domain gave her confidence, and she explained each step in detail with great self-assurance.
He would even occasionally step down from the podium to correct students' mistakes.
A young witch accidentally spilled some powder outside the cauldron, and Hermione immediately stepped forward. "That's dangerous. It could easily cause an explosion. Remember, potion making requires focus and precision."
That certainly gives him the air of a Potions professor.
of course.
This only applies when she's teaching first-year students. But when the first-year curriculum ends and she has to teach upperclassmen, Hermione immediately becomes a bit timid and hesitant again.
Fifth grade!
Hermione Granger took a deep breath as she prepared for another lesson after only a short rest. The little witch was naturally even more nervous about teaching older students.
This wasn't first year, second year, third year, or fourth year; it was fifth year, which was almost graduation time. In Hermione's mind, it was the kind of terrifying concept of a "Battle Master" level expert.
of course.
She didn't know about the Dou Zong (a powerful martial arts sect), but she knew that even the weakest students among them possessed more knowledge than she did, so naturally, she felt lost again. After all, fifth grade was the preparation year for the OWLs (Ordinary Wizard Levels) exams, so the curriculum usually focused more on the combination of practical skills and theoretical knowledge.
This is crucial for students.
Hermione was also afraid that she would affect the students' future.
of course.
She was more afraid of being exposed.
"I am Snape, I am Snape, I am Snape."
Hermione knows what self-deception and mental preparation are.
She looked down at the large, heavy black robe she was wearing, then touched her face and her greasy black hair—symbols of her identity as Professor Snape.
Snape's hair was in worse condition than she had imagined, but it was also proof that Hermione felt she wouldn't be suspected, as she now looked exactly like Snape.
Even the hair oil seemed to be a perfect replica. Well, Snape had actually been using the shampoo Ian had given him, but his busy schedule these past few days had brought him back to his old look.
This was a hardship for the little witch who always loved cleanliness.
There's nothing we can do about it.
She could only force herself to focus despite the discomfort of the uncleanliness. With some time left before class, she began to utilize her special talent—rote memorization—in the shadows of a corner in the corridor.
The Polyjuice Potion temporarily gave her Snape's appearance, but not his potion-making abilities. Hermione had learned about the potion in the library before even drinking it.
now.
I got to experience what it's like to become someone else, and even an adult—to be honest, the experience wasn't as satisfying as Hermione had imagined.
The high vantage point made Hermione a little unsteady, but after a couple of moments, she didn't show any signs of her little chicken feet. The feeling even made Professor McGonagall, who happened to be there, think that she was really sick.
Professor McGonagall showed me some concern.
Hermione was incredibly nervous.
Fortunately, Professor McGonagall did not suspect anything. After all, her behavior of hiding in the shadows was a perfect match for Snape's, only their motivations for hiding in the shadows were different.
She sighed, pushed open the door, and went inside.
"Today's lesson is on vitality supplements," she muttered to herself, opening her notebook and trying to sound as stern and serious as possible. "Please turn to page 89."
She's already in great form after playing the role twice.
However, the older students were still taken aback.
They looked up at Professor Snape, who seemed even more taciturn than usual, and exchanged glances.
Why is he so...quiet today?
"He didn't swear, so it seems his new drug research was successful."
"Yes, by now he should have already started his usual insults."
……
have to say.
Older students also know more about Snape than younger students.
I felt uneasy.
Hermione ignored the whispers and simply read from her notes.
She knew very well that although she was intelligent, she wasn't a true potions master. She could manage to answer questions from younger students using her knowledge.
However, things got tricky when the course progressed to the higher grades. Fortunately, the fifth-grade students were quite diligent in preparing for the exams, and they only encountered problems when they started practicing brewing potions.
originally.
Hermione felt a deep connection to this.
I don't know how to guide these senior students.
however.
She quickly realized that Snape seemed to have anticipated this as well, and that the notebook he gave her was not just a handout, but a complete teaching system—every page and every line anticipated the students' questions and mistakes, and even the smallest errors they might make were recorded and corrected.
The notebook, filled with details of every mistake a fifth-grader might make and how to guide them, was almost prophetic. Hermione was utterly astonished. She continued attending classes, from third grade to repeating a year, and then to seventh grade. Whenever she encountered a difficult problem, she simply consulted her notebook to find the answer.
As the course progressed, Hermione increasingly felt that Snape's power was beyond her imagination. Every student, regardless of grade, had meticulously recorded in his notes the problems they might encounter while brewing potions. Even minor details like a student's shaky hands or a student's habit of secretly adding extra ingredients were mentioned.
Yes.
It's not just about theory, but also about experimental procedures, common mistakes, and even the names of students and their habitual errors.
"Patch will cut the mandrake roots too coarsely today."
"Weasley's cauldron will emit purple smoke in the third step."
"Ireland forgets to stir in the correct direction, causing the medicine to spoil."
"Just kick those two demolition bastards out."
……
Yes.
Predictions that are meticulous in every detail.
Hermione could hardly believe her eyes. She finally understood why Snape could always tell at a glance who had done something wrong, without even looking at their cauldrons.
He knew they would be wrong!
Hermione gained a new understanding of her Potions professor, and looking at the heavy notebook in her hands, she felt respect for Snape for the first time.
What is a Potions Master?
This is.
Hermione thus realized just how valuable a Hogwarts professorship truly was. She understood that being a professor wasn't simply about imparting knowledge; it was about understanding each student, predicting their behavior, and preparing countermeasures in advance. This kind of control was as awe-inspiring as magic itself.
"That's really amazing!"
At the end of the day's classes, Hermione wearily closed her notebook and rubbed her temples.
Her throat was hoarse from imitating Snape's deep voice for so long, and her feet ached from standing all day. She suddenly realized that she had only seen Snape's stern side in the past, but had never thought about the dedication and insight hidden behind his sternness.
This applies to every professor. A professor is responsible for courses across seven years and four different colleges, which is far more demanding than what students have to do.
It's fine for a day or two.
His perseverance day after day is truly admirable.
"Sure enough, you only know how tough the teaching profession is once you've experienced it." Hermione dragged her feet toward the office, thinking about the expressions on the students' faces in class just now.
"Thank goodness Ron and Neville didn't cause any trouble this afternoon," she muttered to herself, a hint of relief in her voice. "Otherwise, I really don't know how I would have handled it."
She was indeed relieved that Ron and Neville hadn't bothered her or caused her any trouble this afternoon, which was slightly unexpected, as she had thought that Ron and Neville would be a big hindrance to her.
"It seems they've grasped the hint I gave them." Thinking this, Hermione looked at her two friends with newfound respect. However, when she opened the door, the scene before her made her freeze in place.
Snape, hanging upside down, was pointing a wand at two people bound like mummies—Ron and Neville. Yes, these two boys had indeed sneaked into Snape's office without hesitation.
only.
They failed to rescue Hermione, but they did discover the truth. Naturally, they missed a day of classes because of this. How could Snape allow two Gryffindor students, who were even more talkative than Hermione, to leave his office after discovering his situation? He simply gave the two students a bondage experience.
As a reward for the two men's "curiosity," Ron and Neville were bound tightly with magical ropes and had stinky socks stuffed in their mouths—undoubtedly Snape's stinky socks.
of course.
It must have been created by magic.
The stench comes from transfiguration.
There were no germs, but it wasn't clean or hygienic either. Snape clearly wanted to teach the two a lesson, so the stench was so strong that Hermione was hesitant to approach her two friends.
Friends are truly precious.
The most important thing is to keep your hands clean.
"How did they get here!"
Hermione watched her two friends, Neville and Ron, writhing futilely like two fish pulled from the water, and she hesitated to approach them.
"Isn't that the question I should be asking you, Miss Hermione Granger?" The real Snape was still hanging upside down in the center of the office, his voice as cold as ice.
"These two idiots just picked the lock and got in without even knowing a lock-picking spell—can't you even control your own friends?" Snape was truly disgusted with Neville and Ron.
Both of these individuals are representative figures of the Gryffindor family's scholarly tradition.
"They're just too curious."
Hermione felt a little ashamed. She knew it was because her acting was so bad and her two friends hadn't understood her hints, which had led to this awkward situation.
"That's why Gryffindor students die so quickly. I hope you're a smart Gryffindor, and one who can keep your mouth shut and hasn't revealed anything."
Snape scoffed.
A dangerous glint flashed in his dark eyes.
"Of course not."
Hermione responded quickly.
"Very good, this is the antidote."
Snape moved a candy bean in front of Hermione.
Unsuspecting, Hermione quickly took the so-called antidote.
"So, I won't turn into a toad, right?"
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.
Not for now.
Snape never thought before he lied.
And at that very moment.
Hermione was about to ask Snape what he planned to do with her two friends.
"Knock knock knock~"
There was a knock on the door.
"who!?"
Snape and Hermione both tensed up.
"It's me, Professor Snape. I'd like to talk to you about some interesting things." It was Lockhart's signature voice, with a hearty yet unsettling laugh.
Hermione, at least, was very uneasy.
She thought of her little chicken feet that had been showing that afternoon.
(End of this chapter)