The weekly self-study session was held in the auditorium. After lunchtime, the auditorium would be transformed into a suitable place for students to do their homework.

Of course, if you wanted to write something else, you could do so as well. However, if you wrote something that had nothing to do with studying or was inappropriate to appear in the auditorium, you would be caught by the patrolling professors. If you were caught, you would lose an entire month of free time for your carelessness.

The patrolling professors had their own schedules, and each time, there would be a different professor supervising the class.

Pessatuben took out a few books on basic potions and borrowed them from the library. He was about to write a small paper on improving potions.

The auditorium was very quiet. Apart from the rustling of pens on paper, there was only the sound of the professors walking back and forth.

Very good. With Professor Snape around, no one dared to talk about how perverted their homework was.

Pessatuben did the same as before. He found a seat in a corner with fewer people and sat down.

During the self-study period, there was no need to worry that you would get into a dispute if you sat together with someone from a different academy. Hence, even though the two Gryffindors saw Posthumus' book, they only glanced at it before continuing to write with a pained expression.

"Cold Potion – Can it be improved and how to improve it …"

Pessatuben wrote excitedly. This was the project he wanted to experiment with the most ever since he found the Prins' potion formula. He had already completed the basic theory and experiments, and he really didn't want to be forced to drink a potion that would make people's ears smoke when they caught a cold.

He wrote this mainly to show Severus that the Master Potion Master who had been studying potions for more than twenty years could understand them better than someone like him who had only been studying potions for four or five years.

He flipped through the book and wrote a long piece of paper.

Suddenly, two shadows appeared beside him.

Someone said in a low voice, "Hey, Posthumben."

It was George and Fred. When the two sat down, the two Gryffindor opposite them looked as if they had stepped in dog poop. However, they couldn't make a sound and could only hold it in. It was wonderful.

'I really want to take a picture and give it to Severus as a topic to pass the time,' Pessatuben thought mischievously.

I suppose so, but Hogwarts doesn't allow students to use electronic devices.

"George, what's wrong?"

Pessatuben replied in a low voice. As he replied, the pen in his hand continued to write strings of characters.

"It's almost Halloween. Bro, do you have any good ideas?" Fred asked.

"Yes, we've thought about a lot of things, but it doesn't seem to be particularly suitable for Halloween. You know, candy is just candy. For Halloween, candy is just an accessory." George's face was conflicted.

Halloween?

Now that he thought about it, it was almost the middle of October. "Now that you mention it, I think I have an idea."

"Tell me about it."

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

It was an excellent three-hit combo. Pessatuben covered the back of his head and didn't dare to look at his dean. Ah, a Slytherin was mixed up with two Gryffindor.

After watching his dean walk away, Pessatuben pulled out a piece of paper and quickly wrote: 'Compound decoction.'

Fred: 'It's a high-level magic potion, but we can't touch it.'

George: 'Maybe we can try to steal some from Professor Snape's office.'

Then, George received Fred's' you're crazy 'look and Pessatuben's' you're dead if you dare to steal it. '

Pessatuben took the paper and continued to write: 'I mean, we can try to improve the compound decoction and use simpler ingredients so that it will only change part of the effect.'

'That's a good idea, Pessatuben.' George's eyes were full of eagerness.

Suddenly, Pessatuben's rare sixth sense came into play. He secretly cast a silent spell and quickly cleaned up the paper full of dialogue.

George and Fred didn't react in time and their heads were still in the middle of the paper.

"Bang! Bang!" He was hit twice again.

Pessatuben quickly stood up and turned around, just in time to face Severus' chest. Pessatuben didn't stop in time and his body crashed into Severus' abdomen below the waist. Forgive Pessatuben for being an undeveloped sprout.

Pessatuben felt a lump in his throat and wanted to lean back, but lost his balance. Unexpectedly, a pair of large arms wrapped around him.

Pessatuben was stunned. Severus, who was about to hit the book a third time, stopped in time and saved a student who was almost sent to the school hospital.

"Mr. Prins, your recklessness makes me think that you're a Gryffindor, and … you're sitting between two Gryffindors."

Pessatuben was very close to Severus, so he could only look up at him. The auditorium was very quiet, so Severus couldn't speak loudly. He could only speak in a low voice.

His voice was slightly hoarse. Persatu could still feel the faint air current that came with his words, as well as the thick smell of magic potions on Severus' body. It wasn't the kind that would make one feel nauseous. Instead, it was a kind of herbal medicine with the smell of soil.

Pessatuben's' old 'face reddened. He handed the paper in his hand to Severus and walked over the stool to leave.

"Mr. Prins, come to my office after dinner." Severus' voice was calm, and it was impossible to tell if he was happy or angry.

Pessatuben's heart skipped a beat. 'I'm going to die, I'm going to die.' He nodded a few times without looking back and almost ran away.

"As for you, Mr. Weasley, I don't think you need to consult a first-year —" Severus glanced at the paper in his hand. "It's about magic medicine, right? What makes you think that the position of professor is so useless?

Or have your brains been taken over by slugs?

Then, for your ignorance, gentlemen, I'll deduct ten points from Gryffindor. "Severus thought for a moment." Copy 'A Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi' and teach it to me in my office before the end of the semester. "

On this side, George and Fred were suffering unspeakably. On the other side, Persatu had just returned to his dormitory and was preparing to take a shower. Then, he would wait for his fate to befall him at night.

-----

"Hey, did you hear? During self-study today, Prins bumped into Professor Snape!"

"Professor Snape must be very angry!"

"No, no, not only was Professor Snape not angry, he even kindly helped him because he was almost hit."

"I heard that a first-year student from Slytherin threw himself at their dean!"

"Merlin!

Snape must be very angry! "

"No!

Professor Snape hugged him back! "

"Someone confessed to Snape!"

"What?!"

"Snape didn't refuse!"

"Persatuben Prins confessed to their dean!"

"Merlin's socks!

Did he die a horrible death? "

"Their dean said yes!"

-----

Rumors always spread faster than the wind.

On the way to dinner, Pessatuben was constantly being sized up by curious, admiring, probing, and sympathetic gazes. What the hell was that?

Pessatuben wanted to stop them and ask them, but they avoided him as if he was a virus that would endanger anyone who came into contact with him.

When he arrived at the auditorium, the gazes didn't lessen. In fact, they became even more brazen.

He randomly found a seat near a Slytherin student and sat down. When he turned his head, he saw his dean glaring at him as if he wanted to eat him alive. Not only his dean, but also Professor Mcgonagall and Principal Dumbledore?

'Principal, why are you staring at Severus and me?!

Professor Mcgonagall, don't look at me like that. What did I do to trigger your affection? Your eyes are overflowing with concern! 'Pessatuben screamed in his heart.

'Severus, be gentler. I can see the tendons on your hands. Sigh, why is my back so cold? Why does it feel like a century has passed? What did I miss?' Pessatuben miserably stuffed mashed potatoes into his mouth.

Because of Severus's stare, the gazes of the little Snakes weren't as intense. However, Gryffindor's curiosity was different. Even Ravenclaw, who usually read while eating, put down his book and looked in Slytherin's direction from time to time.

George and Fred looked like they were crying but not laughing. Their awkward expressions made Pessatuben feel even more uneasy.

His sixth sense told him that he had offended Severus. Was it because he hadn't apologized for bumping into him?

No, if that was the case, Professor Mcgonagall wouldn't be able to stare at him like that. Plus, there were so many people staring at him. It was killing him.

Pessatuben had always treated people who weren't close to him with a distant attitude. Now that he had suddenly become the center of attention, he couldn't take it anymore.

He really couldn't eat this meal.

Pessatuben put down his utensils and was about to finish his juice and leave.

Finally, Slytherin couldn't take it anymore and moved closer. Pessatuben swore that the moment Slytherin moved closer to him, he heard a lot of exclamations. It was the kind of exclamations that carried a hint of gossip. Wait, gossip?

Slytherin's mouth opened and closed. Finally, he said, "Prins, did you confess to the dean?"

"Pfft." Slytherin's last sip of juice was offered to the long table. It almost hit the person who was speaking next to him. Obviously, Slytherin didn't care.

It was as if a spell had been cast on the auditorium.

"What!" Pessatuben couldn't control himself and exclaimed.

"Slash." It was the sound of a fork sliding across a plate.

At the professor's table, the black-robed man strode over. "Slytherin, you're making a racket. Ten points deducted!"

The last three words were spoken in an extremely angry tone, but the man's expression was dark. It was impossible to tell if he was happy or angry.

"Come here."

With that, he waved his hand and was about to disappear from the auditorium's entrance. The fluttering black robe probably showed how angry its master was.

"It's over. I'm dead. How angry is he? He even deducted points from his own school. He's so angry that he can't even say anything sarcastic …"