Hogwarts: I Really Don't Want to Be a Wizard

After leaving the flying broom with difficulty, Grete secretly made up his mind to hollow out Professor Tom as soon as possible and develop his own flying technique.

This flying broom is really annoying.

To say that Hogwarts is not short of funds, why don't they want to replace these old flying brooms with new ones?

Even if you don't replace it with a new one, wouldn't it be okay to go back to the factory and renovate it?

Few of the seat charms inlaid on it are still intact.

Except for those who really love Quidditch, basically no little wizard can climb off the broom with a smile on his face.

Also, Gryffindor and Slytherin, especially Slytherin.

Almost all of your family are purebloods, well-off and pampered.

How can I endure this kind of torture? Shouldn't I wave my magic wand and be more bossy and ask my family to donate a batch of flying broomsticks to the school?

I just know how to sit around and fight with the people in the Lion Court every day without doing anything serious.

Or Hufflepuff is the friendliest of the four major houses.

Watching Gretel staggering, rubbing his ravaged buttocks, he moved towards the tower with difficulty.

A little badger actually chased him and stuffed him with a bottle of herbal ointment that was said to be prepared by Professor Sprout to relieve congestion and relieve pain.

Without even a chance to say thank you, the little badger stuffed his things and ran away.

Yes, I owed a favor. After much thought, Grete decided to repay the favor by teaching the little badger the secret recipe.

But after thinking about it, since he started school, so many professors have given him a lot more or less.

Dumbledore's notes, Professor McGonagall's school emblem, Professor Flitwick as the dean, I don't know how many times he recruited young men.

Only the arrogant Professor Snape would give him a venomous tongue.

After enduring the potion for so long, not even a drop of it came out of him.

Even now, seeing that his skills are becoming more and more proficient, he has begun to be treated as a strong man, asking him to help with the potion orders placed by others.

Grete felt that the more he thought about it, the angrier he became. He was probably being prostituted for nothing.

Because even if you are a potion master in the field, you must pay enough wages to recruit apprentices. Even the potions prepared by the apprentices can be kept as their own.

Gretel, who aspired to become a big capitalist, could not bear this anger, and decided to have a quarrel with Snape.

It's okay to have no salary, but it's okay to treat him as a strong man. At least you have to turn a blind eye and let him come back with a few bottles of potion that he brewed.

Really talking about the success rate, the potion materials he saved must be tens or hundreds of galleons.

——

"How long is your brain? Mr. Harry Potter, you should really get a giant monster's head. I think it will be much smarter than you are now."

Gretel looked at the billowing smoke coming out of Snape's office and the two people standing at the door of the office, and immediately turned around and left.

He only knew that Friday nights had been Harry's private time for the past few weeks.

Little did he know that on Friday afternoon, he was already experiencing a mental beating from his father's love rival.

If he had known earlier, he would never have chosen such an embarrassing time to come to Snape.

"McGarrett, come here."

Snape was truly worthy of being called a bat monster. Even if he didn't look back, he could tell that the person coming was Gretel.

There was no choice but to come to this embarrassing scene.

Snape was obviously still angry, while Harry was picking his fingers sullenly, looking very shocked.

Snape used a cleaning spell to clean up the messy office.

"Mr. Potter, I hope you will see Mr. Gretel's operations clearly next. I don't want you to make such a low-level mistake again."

When the three returned to the office, Grete saw the still smoking crucible.

When I got closer to the crucible, I saw a burnt brown mass at the bottom of the pot. I stirred it up and smelled it, and then looked at the shape. It should be that the hellebore syrup, a necessary ingredient for the moderator, had been boiled down.

Gretel couldn't help but exclaim in his heart, what a good guy, he is indeed the son of Bai Yueguang Cinnabar Moles.

He is only in first grade, and you ask him to learn how to prepare a demulcent that is almost mandatory for O.W.Ls.

Professor Snape, please wake up, Harry is just an ordinary first-year student.

Do you think that everyone is just like you, a half-blood prince who has been gifted as a potions master since childhood?

"Have you seen what the potion is?" Snape said in a sinister voice.

Okay, let’s start testing me again.

After discovering that Gretel was really gifted (crossed out, cheated), Snape became even more strict with his teaching methods.

From time to time, he would take out a failed potion and ask him to identify what kind of potion it was, and also to analyze the potion materials.

"The ingredients for the demulcent are half a small silver cauldron of water, a moonstone ground into powder, 10 porcupine quills and a unicorn horn ground into powder, and one-half of a valerian root. Pints ​​of hellebore syrup.”

Obviously, Gretel's answer satisfied Snape.

"Get the potion and operate it yourself," Snape's voice was almost squeezed out of his nasal cavity, "Mr. Potter, open your eyes and see how others operate it, although I don't expect you to be a monster. The same brain can remember.”

Grind and sieve the moonstone, porcupine quills, and unicorn horn respectively, weigh them according to the required amounts, and store them separately before Grete starts the next step.

Snape struck Harry gloomily from the side, "See, take care of all the materials in advance and put them in a convenient place to prevent mistakes while you are busy."

…

When the hellebore root syrup was added, Snape coughed slightly, reminding Harry to pay attention to Gretel's operation.

Not caring about complaining about Snape, who was so arrogant, Gretel carefully controlled the flames to keep the potion from boiling.

When the seven minutes are up, immediately add the hellebore root syrup to turn the potion into turquoise color, and continue to boil until the potion emits silvery white vapor that indicates success.

Set aside to cool and serve.

"Mr. Potter, do you understand? Do you need me to help you replace the head of a troll?"

"Yes Professor, the flames were too high when I added the hellebore syrup." Harry replied honestly.

It was the first time Gretel saw someone whose pupils could contain two emotions of admiration and frustration at the same time.

Perhaps today's blow to Harry had fully demonstrated his venomous nature. When Snape turned to Gretel, there was a rare gentleness in his tone.

"Well, Mr. Gretel, I remember that today is not the day for your confinement. What are you doing here?"

Gretel couldn't say that he was here to negotiate, because he had already put a bottle of demulcent into his pocket when they were packed.

The strange thing is that Snape clearly saw it but did not stop it.

Gretel had reason to suspect that Snape was giving Harry eye drops, but there was no evidence.

Gretel, who was feeling guilty, naturally couldn't say anything, so he had to interrupt: "Nothing, I just thought that Professor, you probably haven't eaten, so I came here to see if you need me to go to the restaurant and bring you a meal."

"When did you see me having dinner in the office?" Snape's tone did not waver at all.

In order to avoid being angered, Gretel quickly slapped him and walked away from Harry.

In Harry's pitiful look for help, Gretel gave him a helpless expression and ran away in a flash.

Until leaving the underground, Snape's inhumane troll sarcasm could be heard.

But so what, Harry, who makes you not Harry.

Wow wow wow, there is another monthly pass.

Thank you to the boss of Civilization Observer for your monthly ticket, and thank you to the boss of Quehuo Fan for your monthly ticket. Thank you for your kindness.

small theater

Gretel (shaking the potion bottle evilly): Harry, would you like to try this bottle of sex-changing potion? I believe Professor Snape will love you to death.

Harry (waving his hands with a frightened look on his face): Don’t come over here.