"Here's the thing, Professor," Harry tried to phrase his words carefully, avoiding offense. "I have a friend who's injured—quite seriously—and I need some Blood-Replenishing Potion..."
"So, you've decided to treat your poor old professor like a shop assistant at Pippin's Potions? Or worse, turn his office into Madam Pomfrey's hospital wing?" Snape asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Well, it just so happens that among the people I know, you're the only Potions Master, so..." Harry looked up, gazing earnestly at Snape without blinking.
Snape stared into Harry's eyes expressionlessly for what felt like an eternity before letting out a cold snort and turning to walk toward his cabinet.
Just when Harry thought his request had been flatly rejected, Snape returned, holding six bottles of potion in his hand.
"Even if your injured friend were a troll, these would suffice—"
Snape paused, a faint smirk appearing on his lips as his tone shifted.
"Apologies, Mr. Potter. I forgot you do indeed have some dimwitted troll-like friends."
"Thank you, Professor!" Harry eagerly took the potions, bowing deeply, his gratitude genuine.
After Snape curtly dismissed him, Harry made a hasty but respectful exit from the classroom.
"Merlin's beard, you dared linger in the Potions classroom!" Ron exclaimed in an exaggerated tone. "I'd bet anything that if Neville had to spend thirty seconds alone with Snape, he'd have wet his pants by now—"
"You're probably right, Ron," Neville admitted, unfazed by the comment. In fact, he thought Ron had greatly overestimated him.
Neville figured ten seconds would've been more than enough.
"So, what exactly did you say to Professor Snape?" Seamus asked curiously.
Harry glanced back to ensure the Potions classroom door remained firmly shut. Then, like a clandestine dealer, he opened his robe, revealing the Blood-Replenishing Potions hidden in an inner pocket.
"Whoa!" Ron's eyes widened as he pointed a trembling finger at the potions. "Merlin's pants! Did you rob Snape's cabinet?"
"Nope. The professor gave them to me," Harry said cheerfully, tucking his robe back in place.
"Merlin, Harry, you're... you're..." Seamus fumbled for words, unable to find one that did justice to his awe.
Ron and Neville stared at Harry as though he were a living legend. They'd always known he was extraordinary, but this—managing to get six potions from the Slytherin Head of House as a Gryffindor student—was a feat beyond belief.
If someone claimed Harry had defeated a Dark wizard or even Voldemort, they wouldn't bat an eye; after all, Harry had already taken down the most powerful Dark wizard at the tender age of one. But to walk away from Snape's office with potions, unscathed and unpaid? That was the stuff of legends.
"Harry, your name deserves a place in Gryffindor's history!" Ron declared, clapping Harry on the shoulder. "No, scratch that—even Hogwarts: A History should record the glorious tale of how you bested the old Slytherin bat..."
"Mr. Weasley?"
The greasy voice sent chills down their spines.
Ron snapped to attention, slowly turning to meet Snape's piercing black eyes.
"Ten points from Gryffindor for speaking ill of a professor behind his back," Snape said, sweeping past them like a bat, his robes billowing as he disappeared down the corridor.
"You never know when he'll just pop up, do you?" Ron muttered, still shaken.
After lunch, Harry packed some food, including sausages and bacon, and headed to the edge of the Forbidden Forest with his four friends.
Poppy, the unicorn, was already waiting at their usual meeting spot. Upon seeing Harry, she trotted up and tugged at his robes playfully.
"Alright, alright, Poppy," Harry said, stroking her ears as he pulled out one of the potions and offered it to her.
Poppy took the bottle gently, tilted her head back, and drank it all in one go.
Blood-Replenishing Potion wasn't exactly pleasant-tasting; Snape hadn't made it with flavor in mind, but efficacy.
"This should last you a week, Harry," Poppy said softly. "There's no need to use it daily."
"This was a gift from Professor Snape. He's actually quite easy to talk to, Poppy," Harry said with a grin.
Behind him, his four friends gasped audibly.
"Harry?!" Neville's voice was filled with disbelief. "Did you just say... Professor Snape is easy to talk to? Merlin, either the world's gone mad, or I have—for hearing such words."
The others nodded vigorously in agreement. Neville had spoken their collective disbelief perfectly.
"Aren't you going to introduce your little friends?" Poppy asked, her gaze shifting to the group behind Harry.
"Oh, right," Harry said, realizing his lapse. He pulled Ron forward. "This is Ron Weasley, a fine lad from the Weasley family—over there, the sturdier one is Neville Longbottom, the one missing a chunk of his eyebrow is Seamus Finnigan, and this is Hermione Granger, the most Ravenclaw-like Gryffindor."
"Hello," Poppy greeted them, her voice light and musical. "I'm Poppy, Harry's good friend."
"Merlin's beard, are you really a unicorn?" Hermione stepped forward cautiously, maintaining a respectful distance. "You can talk?!"
"Magical creatures are magical for a reason, aren't they?" Harry chuckled, pulling out the food he'd brought for Poppy.
As Harry offered a bacon sandwich, Hermione exclaimed, "Harry, you can't! Unicorns don't eat those—they only like berries…"
She trailed off, stunned as Poppy gleefully bit into the bacon sandwich.
"...and grass," Hermione finished weakly, her worldview shaken.
Harry glanced at her bewildered expression and continued feeding Poppy.
"Looks like the all-knowing Hermione doesn't know everything," Ron whispered to Seamus and Neville.
Both nodded in agreement, though they kept their distance. The thought of approaching a unicorn, especially one with such a sharp horn, was a bit too daunting.
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