Snape's words made Rogers freeze for a moment.
Snape's unique technique?
Wasn't it Levicorpus and Sectumsempra?
Then Rogers realized — those two spells, along with some potion techniques, were from Snape's school days. So many years had passed. How could Snape have remained stagnant?
Surely, he had developed far more advan
ced knowledge than what was in the Half-Blood Prince's textbook.
"Severus' Potion Transfiguration—" Rogers murmured, carefully tasting the term.
His expression turned serious. If Snape had named a technique after himself, then he must have been immensely proud of it.
But what exactly was Potion Transfiguration?
He had never heard of such a concept.
Snape seemed to read his confusion.
"Of course, you wouldn't have heard of it," Snape said coldly.
"Because it's a hybrid discipline I've developed over many years."
He began explaining:
"The essence of potion-making lies in the magical collision and fusion of different materials, ultimately reaching a harmonious magical state. But today's potion-making faces a significant problem: many of the original materials have gone extinct. Ancient potions can no longer be recreated.
"But tell me, if a matchstick can be transfigured into a silver needle, then why can't a missing potion ingredient be substituted using Transfiguration? If we understand the magical properties of the lost ingredient and the reaction we want, then everything becomes traceable."
"That's how Potion Transfiguration was born."
Snape's eyes gleamed with fanaticism.
"If I perfect this technique," he continued, "then I dare say — give me common magical herbs and time, and I can recreate any ancient potion. Even the mythical resurrection potion? No problem."
Rogers gasped.
His scalp tingled.
He suddenly realized Snape's deeper reason for developing this new discipline.
Snape wanted to revive someone.
He hadn't let go of Lily.
Even after all these years, his obsession still burned.
If the war hadn't erupted in the original storyline — if he hadn't died at Voldemort's hands — Snape might have actually perfected the technique and rewritten magical history.
Then Snape lifted his wand and whispered, "Watch closely."
Rogers immediately entered full focus. Not daring to blink, he observed Snape's every movement.
This was a legendary Potions Master demonstrating a technique born of decades of refinement.
Snape dipped his wand into a crude-looking Devil's Snare potion and lightly tapped the surface.
It was just a gentle touch.
Yet Rogers felt as if gunpowder had been ignited.
The potion exploded — not physically, but magically.
A deep, complex magical reaction was erupting beneath the surface.
Snape continued tapping.
Gradually, the violent reaction calmed, like waves settling in a stormy sea. Eventually, the potion began to emit a harmonious aura.
It was refined.
Upgraded.
Rogers, who had some understanding of potion-making, was stunned.
This wasn't just improvement — it was transformation.
Snape wiped sweat from his forehead and asked, "Understand?"
Rogers gave a bitter smile and shook his head.
Understand? Not at all.
The magical reactions were several layers deeper than anything he'd seen before — and Snape had woven in Transfiguration during the process.
Snape gave a small smirk.
"I'll show you once a month from now on," he said, then added in a lower tone, "Try your best to learn. I may not have many years left."
Rogers' excitement turned bittersweet.
In the original story, Snape died under Nagini's fangs — a spy, a hero, and a tragic soul.
His genius never passed on.
Rogers never used to care much for Snape. They had clashed before — especially when Snape deducted points from Hufflepuff.
But things had changed.
Unknowingly, Rogers had come to respect him. He owed him too much.
"Professor—" Rogers said hesitantly, "If one day you're in danger, I'll help you. No matter who I have to face."
Snape raised an eyebrow.
Did this boy even realize who he'd be facing?
If Voldemort returned as Dumbledore predicted, then Snape's fate was sealed. Either die by Voldemort's hand or under Dumbledore's plan.
But seeing Rogers' sincere expression stirred a warmth in Snape — one he didn't show.
Instead, he sneered.
"Is that so? I didn't know Mr. Sprout was so confident."
"Let's see what you've practiced during the Christmas break."
"Take out your wand!"
Rogers was already used to Snape's mockery.
Seeing him ready for a duel, Rogers actually looked excited.
He remembered the countless times he'd been flipped upside down and slammed to the ground by Snape.
Now was the time to test his growth.
Rogers stepped back and drew his wand.
"Then, Professor, you'd better be careful."
Snape chuckled, a trace of mockery in his eyes.
"You knocked out two Ministry of Magic employees and now think you're powerful?"
"Let me show you reality—"
As he spoke, Snape made a subtle finger movement.
Rogers cursed silently.
Snape's infamous silent Levicorpus again?
But this time, Rogers reacted instinctively — dodging with ease.
"Levicorpus!"
Rogers counterattacked.
Snape shifted, dodging the spell, but surprise flickered across his face.
"Hmm?"
In just two weeks, Rogers had made this much progress?
Could it be — he lacked magical talent in some areas, but was a genius in practical combat?
Rogers followed up with more Levicorpus spells, mixed with tricks like Lumos and the Levitation Charm, trying to overwhelm Snape.
But Snape, battle-hardened, easily dismantled every attack.
Then came his counterattack.
Subtle, calculated.
Rogers tried dodging again, sensing the magical pulse.
But this time, he was confused.
"That direction... I sensed it, but there's nothing?"
"A feint?"
Snape had used a magical feint — tricking Rogers into reacting to an illusion before casting the real spell.
Rogers was hoisted into the air and slammed down again.
Still, he wasn't frustrated.
He was thrilled.
"Learned something new again!"
"Professor, one more time!"
Snape looked at Rogers — battered, bruised, but glowing with enthusiasm.
He muttered inwardly.
This boy was a sponge.
Could he teach him all his techniques before it was too late?
Snape "abused" him again and again — all the way until late into the night.
Finally, Rogers staggered out of the Potions classroom.
Exhausted, yet fulfilled.
The system panel showed his Legendary Life progress bar glowing slightly brighter.
Training under Snape advanced even his Life Path stat.
A total win.
Rogers began planning.
The Ministry's potion had arrived, solving his urgent problem.
The new experimental plot was nearly approved.
He could ask Professor Sprout for more Devil's Snare roots.
Once most of the first-level nodes were handled, he could plant freely.
Just then, a familiar voice came from the hallway.
"Rogers, what exactly is Professor Snape doing to you?"
He turned — Hermione stood before him.
Then, Harry and Ron emerged from under the Invisibility Cloak.
Rogers' face darkened.
"Were you... following me?"
Hermione quickly said, "We just wanted to see what Snape was making you do."
Ron added, "We couldn't hear anything outside the classroom. But we saw it!"
Harry chimed in, "He gave you a potion, then hung you up and abused you. Is this how he controls you — pain, then rewards — so you'll protect him?"
Rogers was stunned by their imagination.
"Huh?"
"No!"
He tried to explain, but they had already made up their minds.
Harry said, "You have to resist! What are you afraid of?"
Rogers was tired of arguing.
"Snape," he thought bitterly, "I told you to wash your hair and clean up your image. No matter what I say, they won't believe me."
He turned to leave, but Hermione asked:
"Rogers, do you know Nicolas Flamel? Tell us, and we swear to keep it secret. Help us stop Snape."
Harry added, "I'll lend you my Invisibility Cloak — you can hide from Snape if needed. Just tell us who Flamel is."
Rogers froze.
Invisibility Cloak?
One of the Deathly Hallows?
He wasn't after the Hallows, but — the cloak's invisibility might work better than the Disillusionment Charm.
It could help him cultivate Shadow Thorns — a sub-project of the Whomping Willow.
Shadow Thorns required invisibility.
Could this be the solution?
"Harry," Rogers asked, "Will you really lend me the cloak?"
Harry nodded, determined.
After a short pause, Rogers told them about Nicolas Flamel.
That night, the trio returned to the common room, tired but excited.
They finally knew what Snape was "plotting."
"The Philosopher's Stone."
Even Ron felt sympathy.
"So, Snape beats Rogers every night?"
"No wonder he looked so happy when he got the cloak. Poor guy just wanted sleep."
But in the Greenhouse, Rogers wasn't sleeping.
He stared at the shimmering cloak in his hands, eyes burning with excitement.
"Sleep? Forget it. Time is short. Let's get to planting."
He retrieved a new Shadow Thorns root and draped the cloak over it.
Instantly, the root disappeared.
Even the magical aura vanished.
If not for the system panel and the reward orb still visible to him, he wouldn't know where it was.
"As expected of the Invisibility Cloak," he murmured.
But minutes passed — the reward data didn't change.
"So... it doesn't work?"
Disappointed, he lifted the cloak.
The roots writhed suddenly, as if desperate.
A moment later, their magical energy pulsed.
Rogers was confused.
He covered them again.
This time, the reward orb flashed.
Silver turned gold.
Rogers clenched his fist.
This was it.
His first mass-producible gold-tier magical plant — thanks to the Deathly Hallows' Cloak!
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