Of course, Seamus had no reason to dislike Neville.
After all, although Neville was a Magic Potion Slayer, Seamus always caused all kinds of explosions in Spell Class, affecting Neville as well, often leaving his little face blackened, just like a nineteenth-century Irish miner.
But today, Harry obviously had other plans.
"Need any help, Ron, Hermione?" Harry first asked the two of them.
"No, thanks, Harry." Hermione said with a smile, giving Ron a warning glance.
Ron helplessly smiled at Harry and began to deal with the Magic Potion Materials with a wrinkled little face.
"How about you two, need help?" Harry asked Seamus and Neville again.
The two nodded hastily, seemingly afraid Harry wouldn't agree.
"You grind the Lionfish Thorns." Harry handed the materials to Seamus and Neville: "Leave the rest to me."
The two obediently took the Lionfish Thorns and began carefully grinding them.
Harry snapped his fingers, and fierce flames immediately burned beneath the two cauldrons.
However, while the flames beneath the surrounding students' cauldrons were orange-yellow, his were bright blue.
Professor Snape, initially patrolling the area belonging to the Slytherin students, noticed the difference at Harry's side and immediately walked over.
But he didn't say anything; only a genius Master of Magical Potions could brew two cauldrons at this age, and in front of him was Potter...
Seeing Harry's green eyes, Snape hesitated visibly.
But upon seeing his face, Snape spat venomously in his heart.
Potter!!!
Harry waved his magic wand and began adding various Magic Potion Materials into the cauldrons.
Professor Snape silently watched from the side, saying nothing, as if he were an undercover agent in the Death Eater headquarters.
Add the powder, wait quietly...
Snape noticed that Harry waited only a few seconds before quickly pouring Hoklap Juice into the cauldron.
"I need to remind you, Mr. Potter, that Magic Potions are not cooking," Snape reminded greasy: "Adding materials too quickly can cause a series of unnecessary outcomes—your old professor doesn't wish to see you assimilated by your Little Giant friends."
Harry looked up at Snape and quickly lowered his head again.
In that glance, Snape interpreted a meaning of "Are you as smart as I am?" from his eyes.
Professor Snape's face darkened.
Potter... just like his father! Lazy! Arrogant!
However, Harry showed no intention of stopping; his hands moved swiftly, increasing the intensity of the flames under the cauldron, causing the bright blue flames to leap almost to Neville's face.
After adding two drops of Flubber Worm Slime, Harry controlled the stirrer, stirring clockwise four times, and finally waved his wand to extinguish the flames under the cauldron.
"All done, Professor." Harry looked at Snape innocently.
Professor Snape lifted his eyes to check the time.
Exactly forty-five seconds.
"Good, very good, Potter." Professor Snape showed a sinister smile.
This time, a loss of ten points won't settle it, Potter!
He thought angrily to himself, wasting your mother's talent in Magic Potions, absolutely...
With these thoughts, Professor Snape approached the cauldron...
He was stunned.
The classroom fell into silence, with only the grinding sound of the Lionfish Thorns.
Professor Snape's pupils shrank; he turned abruptly to look at Harry, then incredulously at the cauldron of Magic Potion...
Meeting Snape's gaze, Harry raised an eyebrow.
"How did you do it?" Professor Snape's voice was a bit urgent—but only relative to his usual speed.
He was truly shocked; brewing two cauldrons simultaneously, at this stunning speed, seemed so ordinary—
Good heavens, this completely upended the principles of the Master of Magical Potions.
But for Snape, this was even a minor issue, as he had seen this speed before.
The last person with such speed in Potion Brewing had a bit of connection with him.
Her name was Lily Evans.
No, it couldn't be Potter!
Snape never admitted the name Lily Potter; in his eyes, she was only Lily Evans.
Actually... if Lily were still alive, Snape might not be so obsessed, but Lily was dead, and Snape felt deeply sorry for her.
Twice.
At least that was what Snape believed.
This resulted in Snape's heart filled with endless regret and guilt, and boundless nostalgia and longing for that one who had illuminated his dark life, whenever he thought of Lily.
Harry noticed Professor Snape's loss of composure, recalling the memories seen in the Meditation Basin.
"That's just the way it is, Professor," he said, "I seem to... well, I don't know why I suddenly wanted to do this, perhaps it's something guiding me."
Professor Snape took a deep breath.
Guidance?
What else could it be?
Whose guidance could it be?!
It's the inheritance of blood, it's the Love Spell, Potter! It's your mother's guidance!
Unknowingly, the anger towards Harry's "arrogance" in Snape's eyes gradually calmed down.
Snape was Dumbledore's undercover agent, having long allied with Dumbledore, and he naturally knew the existence of this Love Spell.
At a certain moment, Snape even overlooked Harry's face, identical to a certain deceased individual.