Ron looked at the potion in fear.

After all, Snape was just talking about it before, but now he really took out the poison?

"Drink it." Snape forcefully thrust the bottle into Harry's hand, his tone as firm as his action.

Ron was even more terrified.

Harry didn't hesitate, unscrewed the cap and drank it all in one gulp.

The people around gasped.

Drink it now?

He is Professor Snape who hates you the most.

"It tastes kind of bad, like a troll's beard that's been soaked for two months." Harry frowned and commented.

Snape sneered: "It seems you have drunk it?"

"I heard the Sorting Hat describe it," Harry replied, and the hat shifted uncomfortably beneath his robes.

"Did you use the antidote in advance?" Snape didn't dwell on the topic, but kept a straight face and a serious tone.

Harry shook his head: "Professor, don't worry. To be more blunt, I haven't touched those things yet. It's because of my physical constitution. Those apprentice-level poisons are ineffective on me."

Antidotes are a large category of potions.

The second-grade wizards also began to learn how to make antidotes.

However... unlike special antidotes that target specific curses, spells, or poisons, the creation of a universal antidote that can remove and resist most poisons is a very dangerous thing.

This requires disassembling most curses, spells, and poisons, and having a deep understanding of their principles, in order to make a single potion that can remove all effects.

Testing medicine?

That is the most basic, the most necessary, and the most dangerous thing.

Even for a potion master, it is hard to say whether he will not hurt himself when making some attempts. The names of potion masters who died from taking poison can be listed together to write a book.

"Physique?" Snape's face relaxed a little. "I didn't expect the Potter family to have this ability."

He threw up his sleeves and was about to leave.

"Professor, what was that potion you took?" Harry asked, stopping him.

Snape said impatiently: "That's a fluid potion, one I invented. You don't have the ability to do it now..."

"I didn't mean that, the potion that caused your magic to go haywire," Harry added, making it clearer.

Snape narrowed his eyes. "My poison still has an effect on you? You are so confused, a little wizard shouldn't use that kind of stuff."

"I'm just curious about the Hurricane Curse." Harry shook his head. "Its effect is extraordinary. It can draw out magic that doesn't belong to you."

Snape was surprised. He looked at Dumbledore and said, "If you care about the effect you mentioned, you can ask Albus. That bottle is just an ordinary potion that increases magic power."

"To attract magic power that does not belong to you, you need to have a huge amount of magic power. I can only achieve this through the effect of potions."

Harry nodded.

Snape walked away quickly.

"Harry, how dare you!" Ron bared his teeth and clawed, not knowing whether to pat Harry on the back or hit his throat first, "Spit it out now."

"What?" Harry was puzzled.

"That bottle of poison!" Ron said in a panic.

Hermione couldn't bear to watch it anymore and sighed, "That's the antidote."

"After all, the professor used a lot of poisons during the duel just now. Although Harry doesn't seem to be affected, the effects of some poisons may not take effect immediately."

Ron suddenly realized, but there was still some doubt in his tone: "Is that really the antidote?"

Harry nodded.

Ron was skeptical. He found it hard to believe that Snape could be so kind.

The little wizards divided into groups and began to try to duel.

Ron and Hermione were the most envied group, as they had Harry to guide them.

Lockhart waddled among the young wizards, correcting their faults—their posture was not so handsome, their wand-waving was not so dry, their manners, and most of all, their manners.

Flitwick couldn't bear to watch it anymore, and didn't bother to show off to McGonagall anymore. He walked down from the teacher's seat and personally corrected the real mistakes of the little wizards.

Half an hour later.

The elf appeared before Dumbledore.

Harry turned his head sharply and saw the flustered elf saying something that made all the professors in the classroom look grim.

Dumbledore stood up and waved his wand.

Inside the auditorium, all spells instantly ceased and dissipated.

The sound of ding-dong and clanging scattered all over the floor.

"All students, return to the common room immediately." Dumbledore said with a serious expression, "Follow your dean and do not leave the team."

The students panicked.

There's been another attack!

Who is it this time?

They looked around and to their side. Seeing their friends were still there, they were slightly relieved, but the faces of the little wizards who saw their friends were gone became anxious.

Only Slytherin is the most fearless group of people.

They are proud of their pure blood.

No matter who was attacked, it couldn't be someone from their Slytherin house.

The young wizards panicked and ran to their own academies like a flood.

In the Gryffindor common room, Professor McGonagall brought the little lions back and left in a hurry.

"Who was the victim this time?" Seamus looked around the common room, trying to determine if it was a Gryffindor.

Neville frowned, he was still worried about himself.

Some little wizards have already started writing letters to express their fears to their families.

Harry snapped his fingers and said the name of the house-elf he knew: "Crow!"

With a crisp sound, the elf appeared in front of him.

Everyone in the lounge gathered around.

It was the first time Hermione had seen this kind of creature. It was wrinkled and poorly dressed, like a goblin, but the differences in details made it look much uglier than a goblin.

She quickly turned her head and looked at Harry's profile, and she felt a little better.

"Who were the students who were killed?" Harry asked it.

Crow replied nervously, "It's a little wizard from Slytherin College who was petrified. His name is Marcus Flint."

Seamus pumped his fist excitedly: "Hey, let's see what the Slytherins can do..."

He was only halfway through his words when he realized the atmosphere was not right and stopped abruptly.

The little lions were not excited at all about the death of Slytherin, even Neville's face turned extremely pale and he trembled.

"What...what happened?" he asked in a low voice.

Ron swallowed hard. "You don't know Flint? He's the Quidditch captain of Slytherin."

Seamus nodded, "I know him, but what if he was murdered?"

"He's pure-blood!" Ron emphasized, "Flint is from the family that those pretentious guys believe has the purest bloodline, one of the twenty-eight sacred families."

A pure blood...

Seamus reacted and took a breath.

"But, doesn't the legend of the Chamber of Secrets say that the basilisk only attacks students who are not pure-blooded?" A fourth-year pure-blood wizard stammered, his tone of panic.

He looked at the elf, and his tone suddenly became fierce: "Did you make a mistake?"

"Kro won't lie to the little wizard!" Kro was even more frightened than him, grabbing his ears, "Kro won't make the mistake of identifying the little wizard."

"A basilisk can't tell who is pure-blood and who is not." Harry frowned, "Only the heirs will choose their targets."

"Apparently, the Heir of Slytherin doesn't really agree with Slytherin's ideals."