Chapter 415: Professor, You’re Truly a Good Person

For a wizard, being able to react instantly in the face of danger—and even counterattack—was quite an impressive feat.

If this had been a Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Allen would probably have earned quite a few points for his house.

Unfortunately, he had encountered the wrong person at the wrong time.

The professor he had just attacked... taught Potions.

Not Professor Snape... what a pity.

Ahem. Just kidding.

Allen swore he had never once seriously considered beating up Severus Snape, no matter how sharp-tongued the man was.

For a moment, the atmosphere turned unbearably awkward.

Then—

A chalk box that had been precariously placed on the podium suddenly fell.

Allen instinctively caught it with magic, breaking the tension.

The professor straightened his clothes, used his wand to steady himself, and stared at Allen in silence for a long moment.

They locked eyes.

Neither spoke.

Finally, after a few coughs, the professor put on a stern face and said:

"After class today, you will clean the Potions classroom. If I find any problems during inspection, I will report it directly to your Head of House."

Dear professor... you’re such a good person!

Allen immediately handed out a mental "good person card."

Just as everyone had said—this professor really was kind-hearted. Cleaning a classroom was practically the lightest punishment imaginable.

And from the way he phrased it, the incident wouldn’t even be reported to Allen’s Head of House.

Which meant—

Attacking a professor, something so serious, had just been quietly brushed aside.

Good person!

Another mental card awarded.

Allen straightened up.

I can’t go causing more trouble when the professor is clearly going easy on me.

After that little incident, the good-natured professor seemed to give up entirely on dealing with sleeping students. He simply canceled his previous approach and began calling names again one by one.

Of course, those who had skipped class entirely wouldn’t be getting off so easily.

Once the roll call was finished, he waved his wand.

The desks flipped over neatly, revealing rows of cauldrons.

Since students of Mahoutokoro School of Magic had the longest training period, their cauldrons, ingredients, and materials were all provided by the school.

At first glance, that might not seem related—but in this system, young wizards who enrolled at age seven had to work for the school for two years after graduation to repay tuition and living costs.

In other words, they paid it back with labor.

Under this policy, Mahoutokoro was absurdly wealthy.

You could tell just by looking at its building materials.

"All of you have undergone years of Potions training," the professor said. "I trust I don’t need to repeat the rules."

"This is a potion used to treat common curses. It’s a bit difficult, but still within your capabilities."

"I will demonstrate once. Pay close attention to my technique. And if you can take notes, even better."

His demonstration style was completely different from Snape’s.

Snape’s movements were elegant and swift—he treated potion-making like art.

This professor, on the other hand, was steady and precise—treating it like a delicate piece of engineering.

Neither style was inherently better.

But if the students had to vote...

Aside from Slytherins hesitating out of loyalty, everyone else would choose this professor without a second thought.

Tragic.

A pale blue mist rose from the cauldron.

Soon, a deep azure potion—like the ocean itself—appeared before them.

It didn’t even need stirring; it swirled gently on its own.

Clearly, this was no ordinary brew.

"This potion is somewhat challenging," the professor continued. "So I’ll offer a bit of assistance."

"I’ll select a student to demonstrate the brewing process. I’ll correct any mistakes along the way, so the rest of you can avoid them."

He lifted his head and scanned the classroom, as if searching for a volunteer.

Then—almost casually—his gaze drifted toward Allen.

"Ah, this student seems willing to help. Please come up and demonstrate."

...Seriously?

Allen resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

I didn’t even move!

This is retaliation—who said good people don’t hold grudges?

Of course, everyone could see through this childish act of revenge.

Still, compared to what Severus Snape might have done...

Best not to imagine it.

After quickly reviewing the steps in his mind, Allen stepped forward and began.

His movements flowed smoothly as he processed the ingredients.

Except for a few that needed to be added immediately after cutting, the rest were prepared within minutes.

After all, he had studied extensively using a certain werewolf’s notes—his skill wasn’t just for show.

Even during preparation, he casually incorporated several techniques he had developed or learned.

The professor, who had initially intended to critique him, instead lit up with surprise.

Aside from lacking the instinctive fluidity that came with years of experience, Allen’s methods drew no criticism.

Some steps were rigid or inefficient—but that was due to textbook limitations, not his fault.

Fixing those would require either master-level guidance or long-term research.

When the potion was complete, the professor himself led the applause.

"Excellent work, my boy. If you were my student, this would certainly earn you points."

"Still, I believe you’ll come to love this."

He pulled out a piece of parchment and handed it to Allen—notes on improvements to the recipe.

"Without a doubt, both you and that student from your house deserve praise."

"But remember—don’t sleep before class next time."

"Matches may be exciting, but knowledge is far more important for young wizards."

After finishing his advice, the professor turned to the class.

"That concludes the two demonstrations. No mistakes needed correcting—but I believe a perfect example is just as valuable."

"You may begin. The enchantments on the ingredient cabinets have been lifted."

With his task complete, Allen had nothing else to do.

But then—

He noticed something interesting.

The professor seemed to be paying special attention to a Hufflepuff student.

From what Allen knew, she was only in her third year.

Even more curious—

Whenever she looked at him, her gaze wavered slightly.

As if...

She felt guilty about something.

What’s going on here?