Snape can't.

Such blunt remarks coming from a student's mouth, criticizing a professor so bluntly, was the first time that Slughorn, who had decades of rich teaching experience, had seen such blunt remarks.

So righteous?

It was rumored that Harry and Snape had a bad relationship, and they often quarreled and even fought.

In a word, he believed it.

"Harry, Severus is also very good." Slughorn said softly, "Of course, he may be a little young, after all, he is only in his thirties. Many excellent and great potion masters are just diligent apprentices at his age. Compared with us, Severus is already a big step ahead."

Harry nodded. "Maybe he will become like you in the future, but now he is still a young man."

He was referring to age.

Slughorn understood this as "level in potions" and smiled: "No, not maybe, but definitely, Severus and Harry, you will both become greater than me."

What happened on the train must have been an illusion!

That's right, it's an illusion.

Harry may not know that Riddle is the mysterious man, nor is he likely to know about Barty Crouch Jr. His words were not meant to hurt himself, but simply to praise himself.

I am just too sensitive.

Dumbledore really exaggerates, Harry is obviously very good at talking.

This mouth is so sweet, just like honey. Riddle used to speak so sweetly...

"What does the professor think?" Harry asked seriously.

Slughorn enthusiastically inquired about Harry's thoughts, why these ingredients were used, and what the ratio was. The use of many ingredients in this recipe was unexpected. Although Harry said that it could have the same effect as the wolfsbane potion, there were only a few overlaps between the materials used and those in the wolfsbane potion.

This was a potion that, at first glance, was beyond his understanding.

"Will this work on werewolves?"

"Will this work on werewolves too?"

"My Merlin, this is also okay?"

Slughorn was surprised that many potion ingredients, when combined together, could produce unexpected effects against werewolves.

Wait until Harry finishes explaining.

He nodded slightly: "Very good idea, but Harry you are still too young, some of your ideas are not mature enough."

"Why do we need to match them like this? How about this..."

"Harry, do you want to go back and revise the formula, or just leave it here? I'll take a look at it after you've revised it..."

Slughorn stopped short before he could finish his sentence.

He watched Harry, without saying a word, take out the materials he had prepared long ago from the Sorting Hat.

"We can try it now." Harry looked up after all the materials were taken out. "I have prepared all the materials."

Slughorn's heart skipped a beat, and he nodded, "Oh, of course, that's certainly the best."

Until twelve o'clock.

Curfew was an hour past.

"Harry, if you don't go back to the dormitory now and are caught by other professors or Mr. Filch, you will be deducted points." Slughorn looked at the clock on the wall again and kindly reminded him.

"I know how to Disillusion." Harry answered without even looking up and continued to prepare the next potion.

Slughorn was startled.

Is that what I mean?

Can't you understand what I want to express?

"I mean, it's quite late now," Slughorn tried to put it more bluntly.

Harry shook his head: "I'm not sleepy yet."

I really don’t understand!

Slughorn gave up on himself and threw away his remaining tact: "It's time to rest, Harry. I'm very old. I'm almost a hundred years old this year. I don't have the energy you have."

Harry sighed in disappointment: "Professor, but we have achieved nothing tonight. This is the third time we have failed."

It's not entirely a failure.

By changing the proportions and the formula of certain materials, a new potion was indeed brewed, but by comparing it with the finished product that Harry took out, the medicinal properties were not much different. At most, the time it took to curb the werewolf's transformation was different, and there was no essential change.

From a potion master's perspective, failing to make a potion with the desired effect is undoubtedly a failure.

Slughorn looked at him, feeling a little weak.

Should I really reject such a serious, hardworking and excellent student just for something as trivial as sleeping?

He took a deep breath and nodded: "Maybe some of my ideas are still problematic."

"I'll think about it this week, and we'll try it again next week, next Tuesday."

Harry nodded. "Thank you very much, Professor."

Slughorn finally sent Harry away. He rubbed his sore neck, called out the house-elves, asked them to clean up his office for him, went to the bedroom, and fell into a deep sleep without even wanting to wash up.

After walking out of Slughorn's office, Harry did not return to the dormitory. Instead, he walked downstairs to Snape's office and knocked on the door.

After a while, the door opened.

Snape's face was dark. "Mr. Potter, I think you should know that it is almost one in the morning. What do you want to do by disturbing a professor so late at night?"

"Five points from Gryffindor for wandering around late at night."

Harry took out Slughorn's notes and handed them over. "Professor Slughorn said you are too young and many of your ideas are immature. These are the notes I got from him during detention."

"My ideas are immature?" Snape raised an eyebrow and took the notebook.

He flipped through it quickly.

Slughorn almost denied most of Snape's ideas, and the proportion of materials was almost completely different.

"Is this what the old slug thinks?" Snape sneered, "He has the nerve to say that my ideas are immature. He is much more immature than me."

"Moonlight grass, maidenhair fern, so many flashy things, what else can they do except make the taste better?"

Because of "Slughorn's opinion" conveyed by Harry, Snape was not polite at all to his former Potions professor.

But "slug" is not an insulting term.

Slughorn often called himself this, and even named his club "Slugs", taken from the first four letters of his last name, Slug, which means slug.

Harry said nothing.

Snape paused for a moment and said, "But he still has some cleverness. These angles are not bad. But the old slug is the old slug. He came up with these angles, but he didn't accomplish anything practical?"

"Fortunately, he did not deny these ideas, otherwise he would not be qualified to call himself a potion master."

He flicked his wand, put away the notes, and stared at Harry in front of him.

Harry said nothing, just stared at him.

"It's bedtime, Mr. Potter." Snape immediately understood what he meant and responded, "I have classes tomorrow and don't have time to stay up with you to correct the mistakes of that old slug."

Harry nodded, turned and left, heading towards Gryffindor Tower.

Snape closed the door.

He walked towards the bedroom and was about to go back to sleep, but some of Slughorn's ideas in the notebook caught his attention and he turned around involuntarily, sat down at the table, opened the notebook, and read it carefully. After all, Slughorn was a veteran potion master and his ideas were very interesting.

In the Potions professor's office.

Slughorn had just been lying in bed, and when he closed his eyes, he saw Harry's face and the questions he had asked.

He is very old.

But the issue of how to solve lycanthropy is more interesting.

He tossed and turned but couldn't fall asleep, so he simply got up, went back to the office, and continued to study how to improve the formula so that it would have the desired effect.

Early the next morning.

The little wizards discovered that both the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and the Potions professor had dark circles under their eyes and kept yawning, as if they had not slept well.

Until Saturday.

The troublesome first week of school is finally over, and students are welcoming the long-awaited five-day short weekend.

In Hagrid's hut.

Harry, Hermione and Ron visit Hagrid together.

"Oh, Harry, Hermione, Ron, welcome." Hagrid opened the door and welcomed them in.

His tone was cheerful.

The room was different from before. It had been cleaned up and even the bed had been replaced with an exquisite and beautiful oak bed.

Harry sniffed. "Oh, it smells like Ms. Maxime."

Hagrid froze, the words he was about to say stuck in his lips.

"Ms. Maxime?" Ron's face suddenly became excited. "Hagrid, I heard that you went on a trip with her during the summer vacation. How was it?"

"It's a little faint, but its presence is very strong. Did Ms. Maxime just come here?" Harry continued.

Hagrid shook his head, "No, that's impossible. Olympe is the headmistress of Beauxbatons. She went back a long time ago."

"Olym!" Ron was even more excited.

This is Maxim's name.

Hagrid gritted his teeth, a little embarrassed and annoyed: "Ron!"

Harry raised his wand and uttered the spell: "Fly around."

A dirty skirt flew out from Yaya's doghouse and landed in front of them.

"It's Olym's clothes." Hagrid was surprised. "It turned out to be at Fangya's place. No wonder we couldn't find it."

"It's a skirt!" Ron opened his mouth wide, surprised and exclaimed, "Hagrid, you and Maxim have developed to this extent?"

Hagrid blushed, waved his wand, and roughly stuffed the skirt into his closet, "What extent, Ron, don't be so nosy, you're just a child."

"I'll be seventeen in less than six months." Ron emphasized. "It's hard to imagine. We all thought that you would be heartbroken, Hagrid, and you were going to get married."

Hagrid glared at him. "Now is not the time to talk about that."

"Harry, I need to tell you something, and I may need your help."

Harry nodded, waved his wand, dragged three chairs over, sat down, and said, "Do you need fireworks for the wedding? You should ask George and Weasley for this kind of thing."

"If you're asking about wedding experience, you can ask the professor, um..."

At this point, he suddenly got stuck.