Harry Potter: Archmage of Another World

"Now… how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?" Umbridge asked, her quill poised to take notes on a clipboard.

"Fourteen years," Snape replied, his expression inscrutable.

Augustus carefully added the neutralizing potion drop by drop into the concentrated mixture. The silver potion in the cauldron hissed ominously before gradually turning a pale blue. The next step was critical—the final stage of preparing the enhancement potion.

"You first applied to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, correct?" Professor Umbridge inquired.

Snape did not respond. His attention was fully fixed on Augustus, observing how he handled the evening primrose. As a key ingredient to trigger the potion's sublimation, the primrose needed to be precisely cut into uniform clusters. This step was a challenge for most students due to the herb's slender, soft structure, which required careful precision and a lot of time. However, the final stage of the enhancement potion demanded swift execution. Thus, the ability to quickly and accurately process the primrose was the most critical skill.

Augustus, clearly confident, used a simple yet ingenious technique: layering. Using the flat edge of his knife, he flattened the bundle of primrose on the table, folded it over itself five times, and then employed wind-element magic to precisely slice along the folds. Perfectly uniform clusters of primrose appeared on the table.

A flicker of surprise flashed in Snape's eyes. While the flattening and folding techniques were not unusual, the precise slicing was impressive. Given the herb's delicate texture, achieving such results through manual means was nearly impossible. The clean cuts suggested the use of a well-executed magical spell.

Waiting exactly thirty seconds for the potion in his cauldron to transition from pale blue to deep blue, Augustus spread the neatly cut primrose evenly into the potion. The mixture, evenly heated, reacted instantly. A grey mist rose above the cauldron—a hallmark of the final stage of the enhancement potion. Stirring it clockwise twenty times, the deep blue liquid thickened and crystallized into viscous blue granules. The potion was complete.

"Perfect," Snape murmured with a rare note of approval. "Slytherin, twenty points." Even with his expertise, Snape knew that producing a flawless batch of the enhancement potion within this timeframe was no small feat.

Turning toward the cauldron on Augustus's desk, Snape's expression grew stern as he addressed the class. "I don't expect you to match Augustus's precision or efficiency. However, I do demand that every step is followed meticulously—nothing omitted, nothing unnecessary. Some of you may be inherently dim-witted," he added, glancing briefly at Harry, "but even the most basic method should suffice if done correctly. Fail to meet this standard, and you can forget about joining the advanced Potions class. I accept only the best."

Harry smirked faintly, eager for the day he could leave Snape behind forever. Who cared about advanced Potions, anyway?

Hermione glanced at her own cauldron, where the potion still shimmered silver, and sighed. Even with her constant pursuit of efficiency, she was nowhere near Augustus's level. Besides History of Magic, where rote memorization could slightly narrow the gap, the disparity between her and Augustus in every other subject—practical exams and theoretical tests alike—was glaring.

Umbridge, observing Augustus methodically clearing his desk, held back her questions to Snape while Augustus had been working. Though she usually interrupted students without hesitation, Augustus's composed demeanor and precise technique stood in stark contrast to the chaotic efforts of the other students. It was evident to her: some individuals were simply born with everything—talent, background, and opportunities—that set them apart.

Clearing her throat, Umbridge turned back to Snape. "Still, the question remains: you applied for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position multiple times, didn't you?"

Snape cast a glance around the room. Apart from Hermione's somewhat passable work, the rest of the students' efforts were dismal. Disappointed, he turned back to Umbridge with a cold expression. "Obviously."

Umbridge scribbled something on her clipboard.

"And you've been denied the position multiple times. Do you know why Dumbledore keeps rejecting you?" she asked.

"I suggest you ask him yourself," Snape responded curtly, his voice low and his lips barely moving. He looked visibly irritated.

"Oh, I will," Umbridge replied with a saccharine smile.

Augustus silently tidied up his workspace. The exchange between Umbridge and Snape struck him as amusing. Clearly, Fudge suspected Snape was one of Dumbledore's closest allies. However, such a crude attempt at sowing discord was laughable. Did Fudge truly believe that a former Death Eater who had already betrayed Voldemort would abandon Dumbledore for the Ministry's camp?

"Does it matter?" Snape asked, his black eyes narrowing.

"Of course it does," Umbridge replied smoothly. "The Ministry has an interest in thoroughly understanding the background of its educators." She turned away and approached Pansy Parkinson to ask about the course material. Pansy's family had some ties to Umbridge, and the professor often used her as a conduit to gather information about other teachers.

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