A magical journey that begins in Azkaban

Chapter 42 Snape’s Preference

The brightly lit underground corridor has various oil paintings hanging on both sides. If you walk forward, you can still see barrels stacked against the wall.

The Hufflepuff students greeted Roger in a friendly manner and tapped the barrels with their wands, not worrying at all that Roger would steal their way into the lounge.

"Want to give it a try?" Susan pointed at the row of barrels and looked at him expectantly.

"What are the consequences of being wrong?" Rogge asked cautiously. Jessica told him that the little badgers protected their nests extremely well, and outsiders could not enter at all.

"You should be doused with vinegar." Susan saw him shaking his head, covering his mouth and laughing.

"Our lounge has no magic to repel intruders, why don't you give it a try?" Susan encouraged, "Maybe you will be the first guest in a thousand years."

Facing Susan's invitation, Roger refused righteously: "No, we must respect the school rules and cannot go to the lounges of other colleges."

The little badgers around laughed. It was the first time they heard that the little snake had to abide by the school rules, which was very un-Slytherin.

Roger didn't take it seriously and touched his belly: "Miss Susan, please take me to the elf kitchen. I'm going to starve to death."

"Yeah, come with me." She pointed to the opposite side of the lounge, where there was a fruit oil painting.

"Here, Roger. Make Pear smile and you'll find the kitchen."

"Thank you, Miss Susan!" Roger thanked him quickly. He scratched the pear gently, and the pear chuckled and turned into a green doorknob.

"Good appetite Mr. Rogge, I wish you a pleasant meal." Susan was surprised that Rogge thought of a solution so quickly. She waved her hand, knocked on the barrel and got in.

Pushing open the wooden door, dozens of elves were busy inside. They prepared ingredients for dinner, grilled and stewed in full swing.

The founder of Hufflepuff House brought a group of elves with him when he founded Hogwarts, and most of the people in the kitchen are descendants of that group of elves.

"Welcome, Master Travis." When the elves saw Rogge, they bowed respectfully and said hello.

"How can I serve you, Master Travis?" The elf in the carrot hat ran over and looked at Travis expectantly.

"Do you know my name?"

"Of course, Master Travis. Your abundant appetite yesterday is the best compliment to us. All the elves at Hogwarts are grateful for your praise."

"Can I need some food?" Rogge nodded, but he didn't expect that a big appetite would have such an effect.

"Of course, it's my pleasure to serve you!" the elf said cheerfully, "Please feel free to give me your orders."

"Barbecued meat and some fruits." Rogge nodded and made his request.

"Don't worry, Master Travis, you'll be fine soon." The sentence was like a small steamer, and soon the food was placed in front of him.

"Well done." Rogge praised casually, tears immediately bursting out of his eyes. This is the best compliment to them, and the elves don't need thank you.

Rogge ate happily. One bite of the freshly baked lamb chops filled his mouth with juice. The meat was smooth and chewy, making him satisfied. He ate the food in front of him quickly, and the dishes were served in a whirlwind like a top.

Half an hour later, a tall layer of dishes was built on the left hand side. All the elves in the kitchen were stunned. Although the little badgers came in from time to time for extra meals, only Rogge's gluttonous appetite made them feel happy.

"I'm so happy, I'm so happy." I kept bowing, "Thank you for your recognition, Master Travis."

As Hogwarts elves, they can only be busy in places where the little wizards can't see, such as cleaning late at night or cooking in the underground kitchen. Now seeing Rogge's recognition of their work, all the elves' eyes were filled with tears of happiness.

"This is the best meal I've ever had." Rogge praised without hesitation, "Period, can you prepare two lunch boxes for me?"

Roger looked at his pocket watch. The afternoon potions class was about to begin.

"Of course, it's my honor to serve you." The package was quickly packed and silver tableware was thoughtfully prepared.

In the dungeons of Hogwarts, Hermione and Daphne looked around. Class was about to start, but Roger hadn't come yet.

Ron was very excited when he found out about this, "Harry, Roger from Slytherin is going to be late, that weirdo who doesn't have enough to eat."

Hermione glared at Ron angrily, "How could you say that to him?"

"Why not? The wizards in Slytherin are all..." Before Ron could finish his words, the little snakes turned their heads and stared at him with unfriendly eyes.

Malfoy, in particular, seemed to be smiling but not smiling, as if he was waiting for Weasley to finish speaking. Ron blushed and turned to glare at Hermione who was defending Roger.

"In this class, you don't need to wave your wand silly or mutter words." Snape rushed in from outside, completely unaware that someone was late, and sneaked into the classroom behind him.

"Actually, I don't expect many of you to truly understand..." Snape turned around and stared at Rogge with his black eyes, "...the precise science and strict craftsmanship of potion preparation."

Roger sat next to Daphne under the cold eyes of his dean, and secretly handed the lunch to them.

"But for the few truly talented elites..." Snape lowered his head, looking at Malfoy as if he was referring to him, "I can teach you how to enchant people's hearts and confuse their wills."

"I will teach you how to increase your reputation...and even prevent death." His voice was soft, but every word was clearly audible.

"But then again, some of you may have been famous, capable, and confident before coming to Hogwarts..." Snape looked at the faces of each student, and then focused on Harry. That disgusting face, and Roger sleeping on the table.

"...don't bother to listen carefully." Snape glanced at Roger casually, and then stared at Mr. Harry Potter who was writing and drawing below with all his attention.

"Mr. Potter." Snape untied his cloak and said in a low voice, "Our new celebrity."

His dislike of Harry Potter was purely subjective and not mixed with any objective reason. The mention of this last name made him feel sick. A nausea that makes you spit out bile.

Harry raised his head and looked at Snape who was sarcastic for some reason.

Snape stared into the eyes that were exactly the same as Lily's, and couldn't help but slow down his tone: "Potter, answer me, what do you get when narcissus root powder is added to wormwood infusion?"

Hermione on the side quickly raised her hand, Slytherin was still 10 points ahead of Gryffindor!

"Don't know? Well, let's change."

"Potter, if I asked you to find me a bezoar, where would you look?"

"I don't know, sir," Harry answered honestly.

"Then tell me what's the difference between Aconitum scapularis and Aconitum wolfsbane?"

Regarding Snape's question, Hermione was almost dragged away by her raised hand, but Snape only had Harry in his eyes.

"I don't know, sir." Harry could tell that Snape was targeting him, and there was defiance in his tone.

"What a pity." Snape sighed in a cold tone. Lily's son was a complete idiot, and he didn't inherit even a little bit of potion talent.

He quickly added for fear of revealing anything: "It seems that reputation doesn't mean everything."

"Hermione obviously knows, why didn't you ask her?" Harry asked angrily, and the students all laughed.

"Quiet." Snape glanced around with ruthless eyes, and the little wizards quickly shut their mouths.

It's raining on Chinese Valentine's Day, and my work has fluctuated. I've tried my best to update stably these days. I hope everyone can understand if there are any fluctuations.

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