At this moment, Snape was sitting in a corner reading a potion book. Surprisingly, the book advocated not strictly adhering to any steps, but rather understanding the rules and relying on instinct, which aids in developing new potions.
Snape squinted; this was practically a standard description of how Stalys Black brewed potions, as if throwing one's brain into the cauldron along with the ingredients. Yet, under the premise of not guaranteeing quality, it could strangely ensure success.
However, Snape didn't quite understand what rules the book was referring to. He glanced at the cover again; the author was Quirinus Lamb, a name he hadn't heard of. There were very few potion masters in Britain, very few. If there were such a uniquely styled master, he would surely know.
But the examples mentioned in the book didn't seem fake, so Snape continued to study it.
Some of the books here were not even available in Malfoy's library, and the owner of the potion shop had strongly recommended he come and take a look.
Unfortunately, the books here couldn't be copied or transcribed, but perhaps he could use a thesis or notes to have that sugar-and-muscle-brained Dryncorpse help him get a copy to continue reading at school.
As he was engrossed in reading, the book was suddenly covered by another one, and before he could look up, the wand in his robe was pulled away.
He didn't even have time to look up to see who it was before reaching out to reclaim his wand, only to have Sirius Black deftly dodge him.
Weighing Snape's wand in his hand, Sirius smirked and tossed the wand to Potter.
Potter, tapping his palm with Snape's wand, said disgustedly, "Isn't this the snot-nosed git? What? Malfoy's Death Eater family doesn't have enough books for you to read, so you have to come out and read? Makes sense, since you can't buy a new book with anything from your house by the sewage, right?"
Sirius cast a silencing charm on the corner, "Fork, you're right. I just saw his big nose almost touch the book. I hope the snot and grease haven't stained it, and I hope the owner won't mind."
Grabbing the potion book, Sirius shook it roughly, "Oh right, the owner is Rat's parents! They certainly won't mind."
Having lost his wand, Snape's temper was restrained, but not controlled.
"So it's Potter with a rich inheritance. Maybe the Dryncorpse in your brain was just harvested today," Snape's voice came out suppressed and smooth:
"You and this stupid dog actually know to come when that muscle-brained person isn't home," Snape stood up, "Perhaps I should say, the brainless Gryffindors finally started to be timid?"
He reached out to reclaim his wand, but Potter dodged him.
Potter's expression turned a bit unpleasant, pointing Snape's wand, intricately carved at the handle, at Snape, "That was just a coincidence! Even if we fought again, I wouldn't be afraid of her... but you, do you think showing up on the street with a bald head full of scabs would make you look better?"
"Fire roast..."
"You young people, what are you doing?"
Noah appeared beside them, sitting in a wheelchair, with Senna leaning crookedly on the armrest.
Noah frowned and said, "Perhaps I didn't remind you, the concealment and silencing spells in the store won't work for easier management."
Lupin stood motionless to the side. How awkward... the parents had just kindly wished him a good time, and now his friends were calling them Rat's parents...
Ah...! Lupin involuntarily shuffled back, trying to let Potter's figure block him.
"Young people, although my memories of Slytherin are not pleasant, that doesn't mean I can listen to others insult my daughter and the house from which I graduated." Noah maneuvered the wheelchair to create an exit:
"You are not welcome here."
Noah turned his gaze to Lupin standing to the side, "I think it was my mistake earlier. My daughter wouldn't be friends with someone who doesn't respect others, and please don't misunderstand, stepping out of the shop with you is solely because Lys has an unreasonable tolerance for her foolish father."
"Out," looking at the reluctant Potter, Senna raised her wand without pressure, "or should I say, get out!"
Among the things her husband hated, bullying was certainly severe, but listening to their conversation, there was still good news. The little maniac had mentioned becoming famous throughout the school for fighting, and it seemed like she had dealt with these little pests. Hopefully, Noah would be happy to know about it.
Watching the three leave in a huff after throwing down the wand, Senna leisurely said, "I'll tell the little maniac to 'take care' of you at school. If she can't do it, I'll be very displeased, very..."
Senna wouldn't actually say that to Lys; she feared these little things would be killed, but it was quite fun to scare them.
After all, seeing the rude boy stagger while clutching his arm, the bespectacled boy quicken his pace, and the racially problematic child walking awkwardly.
"It seems your Little Star wasn't bullied, right?" Senna kissed Noah's hair, offering roundabout comfort.
As Senna pushed Noah away, she suddenly turned back to Snape and said, "Muscle-brained, huh... quite fitting, she's not very smart. You continue reading."
Snape held his wand for a long time before calming down and inevitably thinking of their daughter's nearly six-foot height and...
"Little Star..."
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