In the wizarding world, pure-blood families are related to each other.
After all, if a wizard only wants his children to be combined with pure-blood people, then his options are very limited - the pure-blood concept is like an invisible barrier that simply and roughly separates wizards into two sides.
This is also the reason why, although Snape is powerful, he has never been truly recognized by the Death Eaters.
As a hybrid of Muggles and wizards, Snape was not even qualified to be a pure-blood wizard godfather, let alone intervene in the complex family conflicts and kinship relationships between pure-blood wizard families.
"This damn, arrogant black dog..."
Snape returned to his residence, leaned against the wall by the fireplace, and took a deep breath.
From the day he lost Lily forever, he thought he would no longer be excited about certain things. Until Harry Potter re-entered school last year, this stubborn little guy made him feel a sense of long-lost family affection for the first time.
.
This reminded him of the time when he and Evans relied on each other at Hogwarts many years ago.
The appearance of Sirius Black brought back some bad memories of Severus Snape. More than ten years ago, he broke with Evans because of that unforgivable impulse. This time he would not let it happen again.
Something happened.
The censure of Lucius Malfoy is not the most worrying issue right now - if Black's behavior really violates the law, the Ministry of Magic will naturally find him in trouble, which is what Snape wants to see.
Harry is just a minor wizard who has just turned twelve years old and is easily influenced by others in distinguishing right from wrong.
You know, Sirius Black is not a gentleman. Black may tutor Harry seriously and responsibly in his studies, but he will definitely instill some bad ideas, especially taking the opportunity to smear his image.
For Snape, watching Harry become close to his godfather was undoubtedly a very sad thing.
To make matters worse, Snape, who failed to apply for the "Defense Against the Dark Arts" professor again, had already obtained the name of the professor of this course next semester from Dumbledore - Remus Lupin, Special Four
The brain trust of the human group.
As Sirius and Lupine became professors at Hogwarts, the situation only got worse.
As Sirius Black said, in the whole incident, he was just an outsider without any position. At best, he was just an old classmate of Harry's mother and a professor who took courses that Harry liked.
It's just that it's just a matter of liking...
There are too many peers in Hogwarts who are amazingly talented.
Even though little Harry had worked very hard, as a playful little boy and a not-so-monstrous little wizard, even with Snape's extra lessons, Harry's Potions class score was only second to second in grade.
Floating between fourth place.
Whether it is Hermione Granger or Draco Malfoy, they are extremely strong competitors for little Harry... not to mention that above these two people, there is also the one in Harry.
"Moonlight" in the clouds of Gwarts.
"perhaps……"
Snape pondered for a few seconds, and his eyes subconsciously moved to the stone platform on top of the fireplace.
There was an old textbook that he had just dug out from the storage cabinet in the Potions classroom some time ago. The Potions textbook that he had used when he was a student at Hogwarts decades ago - if it weren't for
After finding this old textbook, Snape almost forgot that he also had such a shameful and dark history of being a middle school student.
According to Snape's original idea, he originally planned to seal this past from now on, as if it never existed.
but……
Snape's mind suddenly recalled something that Elena had said inadvertently - [No one likes a subject that they are not good at. For students, the subject they like the most and the subject they are best at are actually the same.
A meaning.】
The former half-blood prince raised his fingers and tapped the old potions textbook, thinking to himself.
"Perhaps in addition to regular classroom teaching, Harry needs some inconspicuous but extremely important little secrets that can help him stand out in the potions class, and preferably defeat Elena Kaslana...
"
The professors at Hogwarts no longer think of Elena as a "once-in-a-hundred-year" magical genius.
It's hard to say for the future, but if we only compare Elena's age, even if we look back on the history of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for nearly a thousand years, we won't be able to find a wizard who can compare with this girl.
Severus Snape can be said to be one of the professors who has the deepest impression of the evil nature of this "little assistant in Potions class". Whether it is in terms of rigor, creativity, or knowledge absorption, Elena
It has reached the level of half a professor.
There is no doubt that for now, no student can beat Elena Kaslana.
This is especially true in the potions class - it is impossible for ordinary students to defeat the professor. Even if the other person is just a teaching assistant, he is also one of the deep participants in the course and examination, and the referee is almost invincible.
but……
If the opponent is replaced by another formal professor, the result will be difficult to say...
Snape raised his eyebrows, put down the old textbook in his hand, raised his wand and waved it gently around the room.
Click.
A crumpled copy of "Magic Potions and Potions" flew out from the bookshelf and fell into his hands.
This textbook written by Professor Arsene Giger will be used in Potions classes in the first and second years of Hogwarts.
Although in Snape's view, many of the potion concepts are already outdated, and there are many improvements that can be made in the brewing and material handling processes of some basic potions, as an introductory course on potions for children, it is still
It's barely qualified.
"This book seems... a bit too new?"
Snape frowned and carefully compared the two potions textbooks at hand. He tapped the cover of the "Magic Potions and Potions" with his wand. The pages of the book he bought specially as a lesson preparation material instantly turned yellow.
Starting from the beginning, various wrinkles and creases spread little by little on the cover and pages of the book, as if decades had passed in an instant.
"Well, this looks much more normal. All that's missing now is a mysterious former owner of the textbook..."
He relaxed his brows and glanced at the tattered "Advanced Potion Making". He clicked the wand again and saw a small, dense row of "Magic Potions and Potions" at the bottom of the back cover - [This book belongs to
Half-Blood Prince】.
In this way, even if Elena discovers Harry's secret later, it won't matter.
Compared to losing to peers around her or being crushed by notes left by a mysterious senior decades ago, this may be a more painful blow to the proud Elena Kaslana.
Snape tapped the textbook in his hand lightly with his fingers and showed a meaningful smile.
As long as he doesn't tell the answer, even if Elena looks through the entire Hogwarts student files, or even asks Albus Dumbledore, she still won't know who the "Half-Blood Prince" is——
The unknown is the most terrifying opponent.
…………
The next day, early morning.
On the other side, Moscow.
Newt Scamander held an address left decades ago in his hand. He stood in a daze on the crowded and deserted streets of Moscow. He frowned and carefully looked at the copy he just bought in his hand.
Russia map.
Decades have passed, and many changes have taken place in this distant eastern country.
Newt tried several times, but was unable to connect directly to the city where his old friends lived through the Floo network.
In desperation, he could only arrive in Moscow through the official channels of the Ministry of Magic. He was going to check the latest maps of the local Muggles and then use Apparition to go to the city where his old friends lived.
only……
Looking at it now, it seems that the map can't help him.
Newt sighed, looked around the busy street, and walked to a stall selling metal badges, handmade products, cigarettes, and various foreign magazines with scantily clad women on the covers.
"Good morning, friend! Do you want to buy something?"
The stall owner is an old man with gray hair on his temples, and his mouth is covered with calluses.
The old man looked at Newt's British windbreaker, his eyes suddenly lit up, and he spoke enthusiastically in broken English.
"Look, here is the newly arrived "Playboy" magazine. Although it may be a little outdated, it is still quite difficult to buy in this city. You will definitely like it! It only costs two dollars, of course, pounds are also acceptable!
"
"Yes, yes, there are many good badges here. I guarantee these are rare things you have never seen before..."
In this day and age, foreign tourists are the most popular customers.
The most important reason is that these tourists from Western countries usually use dollars and pounds, which are very valuable currencies, to buy goods, rather than the former Soviet ruble, which changes in toilet paper prices every day.
"I'm sorry, I'm not here to buy anything, I'm here to ask for directions..."
Newt scratched his nose awkwardly, and pointed to the map in his hand under the disappointed eyes of the old man.
"Ask for directions? Okay, are you going to Citibank to handle business, or are you going to the Kremlin to take pictures?"
The old man put down the magazine and the pile of metal badge boxes in his hands with some disappointment, and waved his hand.
"Citibank can be seen if you go straight back along this road, and the Kremlin is in the opposite direction."
After a slight pause for a few seconds, the old man tried his best to put on an unskilled smile, raised his head and looked at Newt Scamander expectantly, and then added after thinking for a while.
"By the way, if you need a local guide, you can hire me. Fifteen dollars a day, in pounds! I'm definitely much cheaper than those unreliable young people in the square - not just in Moscow, but in most places in Russia
I know how to get there."
"Really? That's great!"
Newt breathed a long sigh of relief, took out twenty pounds and handed it to the old man's hand, and asked in less proficient Russian.
"Hi, comrade! Do you know where Leningrad and Stalingrad are? I can't find them on the map."
The old man's outstretched hand stopped in mid-air.
The twenty pounds stamped with the Queen's ****** fell lightly on the stall between the two, covering up the silver badges with sickles and hammers that the old man had been trying to sell.