HP: god of potions

Chapter 96

In what looks like 1992 Hogwarts, Getting out of the train in the middle of the night were 11-year-old children—first-years at Hogwarts. Hagrid called for the first-years to line up, his booming voice echoing through the night. Among the young children was a tall but lean young man with a sharp nose and black hair streaked with red. He followed the other students as they made their way towards Hogwarts, his presence standing out even among the crowd of excited faces.

In front of Hogwarts, while Draco Malfoy tried to confront Harry, who had just befriended Ron, the tall young man walked past them without a second glance. Harry noticed him, frowning deeply as he whispered, "Bastard," under his breath. The young man paused for a brief moment, seemingly catching the word, before continuing forward. As the first-years entered the Great Hall, they were called one by one to be sorted. When it was finally his turn, the name "Gray Severus" was called, causing a wave of murmurs and whispers to ripple through the hall.

As Gray walked to the front, the whispers grew louder. Students spoke in hushed tones, saying things like, "Is that Snape's son?" and "I can't believe he has a kid!" Gray didn't acknowledge anyone, not even Snape, as he made his way to the stool. Sitting down, the Sorting Hat was placed on his head. The moment the hat touched him, it frowned deeply. "Oh, hatred, such deep hatred," the hat said, its voice audible to everyone. "Yet a curious mind. You want to strive forward for a better future for yourself, no matter the cost. And you only think about yourself." The murmurs in the hall grew louder before the hat finally declared, "Slytherin!"

The next day, in the library, Gray Severus could be seen sitting beneath a tall shelf, reading a large book. His focus was interrupted by a voice, "Excuse me, are you finished with the book?" Reluctantly, Gray frowned and looked up to see a young girl with bushy hair and beautiful eyes. She looked about his age. For a moment, Gray was stunned before he replied coldly, "No, I'm still reading. Use those things you call eyes." The girl's face flushed with irritation as she sat down beside him, saying, "Well, I have to prepare for the next class, and that's the only book available."

Gray, clearly ticked off, retorted, "How is it available when I'm literally holding it?" The girl, unyielding, replied, "Well, let's share it then. It looks like we're revising the same topic." Gray pondered for a moment before shrugging. "Do whatever you want," he muttered. The two continued reading together, revising in silence, though tension lingered between them as they worked side by side.

-scene change-

Gray could be seen floating above Pangea, gray sighted as he said, "what the hell is happening, why am i having a weird now of all things" he sightes before he shrugged as he looked towards the island he had meticulously created and terraformed. His gaze wandered across the five distinct regions, each unique and alive with its own personality. First, he visited the Southern Region, where the warm, sandy expanse cradled a shimmering saltwater pond. The air was humid, the sand golden under the sunlight, and the occasional breeze carried the faint scent of salt. Gray landed lightly, crouching to water the magical herbs he had planted and pulling out any weeds that dared disturb the harmony of the region. His hands moved with practiced care as he ensured the plants thrived in the heat.

Next, Gray flew to the Northern Region, where the icy chill greeted him like an old friend. Snow blanketed the ground, and frost clung to every surface, shimmering in the pale sunlight. The air was sharp and biting, the silence broken only by the crunch of snow underfoot as Gray tended to the cold-tolerant magical plants he had placed here. His breath formed visible clouds as he worked, ensuring the ice and snow maintained their balance to nurture the life he had planted. Despite the freezing temperatures, the area pulsed with an ethereal beauty.

The Western Region, a vast desert, stretched out before him with an oppressive heat that radiated from the golden dunes. A small oasis nestled within the endless sands offered a reprieve, its clear water and lush greenery a stark contrast to the arid surroundings. Gray knelt by the oasis, carefully tending to the magical flora that thrived here against the odds. His movements were deliberate, ensuring the plants received just the right amount of water. The stillness of the desert was broken only by the occasional rustle of sand, creating a serene yet haunting atmosphere.

From the desert, Gray traveled to the Eastern Region, a dense forest that climbed into jagged mountains. The earthy scent of soil and the hum of life surrounded him as he navigated through the towering trees. The forest was vibrant, alive with the sound of rustling leaves and the occasional chirp of unseen creatures. The mountains loomed, casting long shadows that added to the mystique of the region. Gray tended to the plants here, their vibrant colors blending seamlessly into the lush environment, a testament to the harmony he had created.

After completing his rounds, Gray returned to his alchemy room. He removed his shirt, the cool air brushing against his skin, and entered his carriage to don his forging equipment. Each piece of the gear had been personally enchanted by Gray to suit his precise needs. He began the forging process, shaping pieces of metal like a jigsaw puzzle, his hammer ringing out in rhythmic strikes. Every now and then, he paused to refer to the blueprint, ensuring each piece was perfect. Once the forging was complete, he turned his attention to a more elusive goal: creating a permanent fuel by combining magical and muggle elements. Despite another failure, Gray was undeterred. Resolute, he left Pangea to seek new insights, confident that success was only a matter of time.

-scene change-

Later that night, in the Gryffindor common room, the trio—well, the squad—sat surrounded by the usual laughter and chatter. Hermione suddenly snapped her book shut, her expression a mix of frustration and determination. "I don't know how we're ever going to pass our O.W.L.s in Defense Against the Dark Arts without any practice! That Umbridge woman is—ugh!" She turned sharply to Gray, her eyes lighting up with an idea. "I know, you could teach us," she said, her voice brimming with confidence. Harry and Ron exchanged quick glances before grinning and chiming in unison, "Yes, you could!" Gray sighed but found himself smirking slightly, the memory of Rachel teaching him to fight flashing through his mind. "Huh," he muttered, "that might not be the worst idea." Hermione beamed smugly. "Of course, I came up with it," she said, earning a chuckle from Ron and Harry. For a fleeting moment, Gray saw an image in his mind—another version of himself, th young version of him sitting on the cold floor of the library with the younger hermione sitting beside him, reading a book, with a worn out but smiling. The vision faded as quickly as it came, replaced by a wave of determination. "Alright," he said, standing, "let's do this." The group quickly made their way to an empty classroom deep in the castle.