Hogwarts’ White Lord

"Why didn't you all write it down?!"

After glaring at Ivan for a few seconds, Snape finally gave up trying to pick a fight with him and turned his frustration elsewhere, scolding the rest of the class in a low voice.

Suddenly, the classroom was filled with the rustling of quills hastily scribbling on parchment.

The Potions class continued, but things didn't get any easier for the Gryffindor students.

Snape paired them up and instructed them to brew a simple potion to cure boils.

As Snape drifted around the classroom, his long black cloak trailing behind him, he observed their attempts to measure dried nettles and crush snake fangs. His criticisms seemed almost inevitable.

The only ones who escaped his ire were Malfoy, and the duo of Ivan and Hermione.

Malfoy was clearly Snape's favorite, and Ivan, of course, did everything perfectly, leaving no room for Snape to find fault.

Still, despite their flawless work, Snape barely glanced their way.

'Is it because we didn't make any improvements?' Ivan thought, not too bothered by Snape's lack of acknowledgment.

He had to give credit where it was due: Snape's teaching style was impeccable.

He broke down the potion-making process into bite-sized steps, so clear that it was practically impossible to mess up—unless you weren't paying attention.

As Snape himself had put it: As long as you're not completely dim-witted, you should be able to brew this potion.

However, if a student managed to go beyond the instructions and improve the process, Snape wasn't one to withhold praise.

He wasn't the kind of teacher who forced students to rigidly follow his methods.

Learn and apply, and draw inferences from one example.

Snape himself had mastered his craft this way.

Ditott! Szzz!

Suddenly, a puff of acidic green smoke billowed out of the cauldron in the underground classroom, followed by a loud hissing sound.

Ivan turned his head and saw that Neville, partnered with Harry, had managed to melt their cauldron into a lopsided, misshapen mess.

The potion inside began spilling out onto the stone floor, burning holes in the shoes of several students nearby.

Within seconds, the entire class had scrambled onto their stools, trying to avoid the spreading liquid as the cauldron tipped over and the potion splashed around.

"Idiot!" Snape roared, stepping forward and preparing to wave his wand, but before he could act, there was a soft "Tergeo."

In an instant, all traces of the potion vanished from the floor.

Snape froze for a moment, then turned to see Ivan putting away his wand. He seemed to consider offering praise, but bit back the words before they escaped.

"I think you probably added the crushed snake fangs without removing the cauldron from the fire, didn't you?" Ivan asked calmly.

"Ah! Yeah!" Neville flinched, grateful for Ivan's intervention, knowing he had just avoided a trip to the hospital wing.

Unlike in the original timeline.

However, even though Neville was saved from immediate disaster, Harry wasn't as lucky.

"Potter," Snape snapped, turning his ire towards him, "why didn't you tell him not to add the crushed fangs?"

Snape: "Do you think it's fine just because he made a mistake? Gryffindor loses a point because of you."

"???"

Harry was completely baffled, with a look that said, 'Who am I? Where am I? What did I do wrong?'

"Don't argue."

Seeing that Harry was about to protest, Ronald gave him a swift kick under the table. "I heard Snape's especially unreasonable."

Frustrated, Harry could only glare at Snape, but it didn't matter—Snape didn't need a reason to target him.

"Dissatisfied with the professor's warning, Gryffindor loses another point because of you."

This point deduction felt like Snape was just flexing his authority.

At that moment, Harry really wanted to strangle Snape, completely bewildered by how unfair and unreasonable this professor was.

Slytherin—from the head of house down to the students—really seemed like a bad lot.

"See?"

On the other side, Ivan and Hermione had calmly finished brewing the potion that Snape had assigned. Ivan leaned over and said, "Don't get involved. You'll just get yourself in trouble."

"But..."

Hermione still wanted to know, "Why?"

Why was Snape so determined to pick on Harry? Was there some deep-rooted grudge?

"It's a long story."

Ivan smiled slightly: "I'll explain it to you in detail later when we have time."

"Professor!"

Ivan raised his hand: "We've finished brewing the potion."

The finished product made by Ivan and Hermione was excellent, and even Snape couldn't find any faults with it.

However, Snape did not award them any extra points.

"It seems that sometimes, fame isn't completely without merit."

Snape remarked coldly, "At least you and Miss Know-it-all have followed the rules properly."

'...'

This kind of biased treatment made Hermione fume with anger.

She had never encountered such an infuriating teacher before.

If it weren't for Ivan's presence, Hermione might have earned the first distinction of talking back to a professor during her Hogwarts career.

"T-Thank you, Ivan."

Neville, who was walking to the cafeteria with them, thanked Ivan on the way.

If Ivan hadn't stepped in when he did, Neville felt sure he would have been doused in the potion that could melt through the floor.

A trip to the school hospital would have been unavoidable.

"Neville, Potions class is definitely a bit challenging for you," Ivan acknowledged sympathetically.

Ivan told the truth: "Your memory is so bad that it's easy for you to forget the steps of potion-making and mix things up."

Ivan really had no way to fix this entirely.

The only solution he could think of was to let Neville take turns teaming up with him and Hermione during future potions classes.

With two top students guiding Neville step by step, there was hope for improvement.

If you lack talent, you can make up for it with hard work.

It's said that practice makes perfect, and Ivan's teaching approach for Neville was simple: practice.

Practice until it becomes second nature, forming a conditioned reflex.

"I... I understand," Neville said obediently. He knew Ivan was trying to help him, and he cherished the opportunity.

After lunch, Ivan and Hermione were heading to the library to return some books and borrow new ones.

"Ivan," they heard Harry call out. He was with Ronald. "Hagrid invited me to his cabin. Do you want to come along and check it out?"

"Hagrid?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

Because of Ivan's influence, Hermione's relationship with Harry and Ronald was just average. They didn't have much in common, and her first impression of Hagrid was simply that of a giant she saw when they arrived off the train.

"Yes," Harry confirmed. "Hagrid lives on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He invited me for afternoon tea."

"Thanks," Ivan replied. He didn't know why Harry had invited him, but the gesture seemed genuine.

Through his magical perception, Ivan could clearly sense the emotional fluctuations of those around him—especially their feelings toward him.

For example, Dumbledore came across as a kind old man, filled with warmth and care for his students, while Hermione's emotions were filled with admiration and a sense of attachment.

Ron and most of the other students felt a mix of envy, a bit of jealousy, and a touch of awe toward Ivan.

As for Harry Potter…

Harry did envy Ivan, but there was no hint of jealousy—only curiosity and gratitude.

Ivan could tell that Harry genuinely wanted to be friends with him.

'Pure and kind-hearted, as expected from the hero of a fairy tale,' Ivan thought, secretly giving Harry a good evaluation. He then smiled and accepted the invitation. "It would be my pleasure. Also, does Hagrid have a limit on the number of people who can visit?"

"I mean..." Ivan gestured toward Hermione, who looked eager and curious.

"Of course!" Harry said enthusiastically. "I think Hagrid would be happy to welcome the smartest young wizards and witches at Hogwarts."

Having left the Dursleys behind, Harry had learned to be more tactful in his speech.

Words are an art.

Calling Hermione "the smartest young witch" made her beam with pride.

Especially considering that it came from Harry Potter—the famed savior of the wizarding world.

Hermione may not have liked Ronald much, but she had a good impression of Harry.

If Ronald weren't around, Hermione would gladly welcome Harry into their circle.

Simply put, in her mind: Ronald, step aside! Stay away from my Ivan!

_________

Read 15 Chapters ahead of SH at my Patreon!♥