They couldn't help their curiosity and excitement, whispering to their teammates.

"Do you all want detention?" Even the quietest whispers couldn't escape Snape's ears, and he roared at the surrounding students.

"Now!"

"Continue with your work!"

"Whether you're from Slytherin or Gryffindor, if anyone fails to complete it, your homework will be extended by one foot!"

"What are you all standing around for?"

One foot!

All the students were too afraid to be curious about what was happening with Hoare. One foot, that's a killer!

Though they admired Hoare's courage to negotiate with the professor, they wouldn't dare do it themselves. No way! No way!

Mom, I'm so scared. Professor Snape is even scarier than you described!

The black robe dragged on the ground, making a soft rustling sound that sent chills down their spines.

"Are you an idiot? Crush it! Don't you understand crush?"

"Has your brain been eaten by slugs? Three turns! Three turns! Not two!"

"Take the cauldron off the heat, you troll!"

Snape's venom was equally distributed among all the students, regardless of their house.

Hoare listened and sighed inwardly.

What a touching scene!

Professor Snape was single-handedly bringing Slytherin and Gryffindor closer together. He's truly a good person.

"Henry... can you do it?" Harry's tone was extremely cautious.

Hoare's previously relaxed mood was now tinged with a bit of tension, "I think so."

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"Think so!?" Harry was shocked.

"Henry! You have to succeed. I've already lost a point for Gryffindor. If I lose more, I'll be kicked out." Harry's face was a mask of pain by the end.

Hoare remained calm, "If you want me to succeed for sure, it's not impossible."

Harry shivered, clutching his pocket, "I only have a dozen Galleons left."

Hoare glanced at him, "Do I look like that kind of person?"

"You do." Harry's voice was full of resentment.

"Are you really that short on money?" Harry didn't understand. Didn't Hoare just earn 200 Galleons?

"I spent it all," Hoare said with righteous confidence.

"Spent it all!?" It wasn't Harry who said this, but Malfoy, who was eavesdropping nearby.

His exclamation nearly caught Snape's attention. Snape snorted coldly and glanced over but didn't pursue it further.

Malfoy wanted to ask more, but then he saw the potion in Hoare's cauldron change from a crystal-clear white to a mysterious brown, bubbling ominously.

He hurriedly stepped back several paces and shouted, "William, your cauldron! It's about to explode!"

Goodness, when there's no trouble, it's Henry; when there is, it's William. Malfoy sure knows how to divide responsibility.

Malfoy's shout once again caught Snape's attention.

Seeing Malfoy's panicked expression, Snape quickly approached, his long black robe billowing like waves, mirroring his anger.

"Henry William!"

Each word seemed to be squeezed out from between Snape's teeth.

"You failed." Snape's tone was cold with a hint of mockery.

"I didn't," Hoare insisted.

Snape's tall figure cast a shadow over Harry and Hoare, the pressure almost tangible.

"It seems someone will have to pay for their stupidity," Snape's eyes gleamed with malicious glee.

Harry was so frightened he couldn't help but step back a few paces. He quietly reached out, tugging at Hoare's robe, trying to pull him back to avoid that terrifying shadow.

Hoare remained calm and composed. He wouldn't fail.

His talent in potion-making was B-level, and one shouldn't underestimate this B-level. In a matter of seconds, he had mentally tested all possible combinations of ingredients hundreds of times. If he wanted, he could make it.

He had organized all potential failure scenarios.

What he was using now was the only successful and refined method he had tested.

So, he wouldn't fail.

Snape frowned deeply, the furrow between his brows growing more pronounced.

He had never seen anyone remain so calm under his pressure, still operating in an orderly manner. For a moment, he almost believed that this troll with a head full of knotgrass could actually succeed.

Hoare continued to stir his potion at a steady pace. On the eighteenth and a half turn, he added the juice of a crushed herb, then began stirring counterclockwise.

After three turns, all the students saw a faint smoke rising from Hoare's cauldron, which then turned a pale red.

Snape, standing closest, clearly saw the potion in the cauldron change color, from brown to silver, finally stabilizing at blue.

Hoare carefully extinguished the flame and slowly poured the potion from the cauldron into a crystal vial.

Only then was the potion considered complete.

Snape looked at the crystal vial in Hoare's hand, the potion inside exuding a warm blue glow with flecks of silver, truly magical.

It was a feeling full of vitality.

Snape knew Hoare had succeeded.

Though he didn't know what potion Hoare had made, just one look, just one look, and he could feel the vibrant life force emanating from it.

Snape's facial muscles tightened, appearing very serious, but no one could know the turmoil inside him. He had never seen such a potion.

A potion full of life.

What kind of potion could be so full of life!

Snape's mind raced with countless speculations, only to dismiss them himself.

Impossible, impossible.

Henry William was only eleven years old. How could he achieve this!

Snape steadied his mind and extended his right hand, "Let me see." His voice sounded as if it were squeezed from his throat, dry and harsh.

Hoare raised an eyebrow, "Professor, have you agreed to my terms?"

"Hmph!"

Snape snorted coldly from his nose. Hoare knew this was his way of conceding, and with a smile, he placed one of the two completed potions into Snape's hand.

At this moment, the entire classroom of students wished they could grow an extra head, one to watch their own cauldron and another to see the commotion over by Professor Snape.

The crystal vial in his hand emitted a cool sensation, soothing Snape's anxious mood.

He uncorked the vial, and tiny sparks of light drifted out, releasing a faint fragrance.

Just from a whiff, Snape's expression changed dramatically.

The surrounding students were scratching their heads in curiosity, wishing their heads could fly over.

What on earth was that thing? Why did Professor Snape, after smelling it, show such an unbelievable expression on his usually rigid and cold face?

He cracked!