Chapter 18: 18: Hair Care

"Did I not explicitly instruct you to crush the peas until they release their juice and wait for the potion to turn blue before adding them? It seems that our Weasley not only lacks any talent for potion-making but also struggles with basic reasoning. Due to your outstanding performance, Gryffindor loses five points," Professor Snape's voice was thin and sharp, with barely any movement of his lips, sending chills down the spines of the students. Everyone knew Snape took a particular pleasure in picking on Gryffindor, and today was no exception. The red-haired Weasley twins had been in his crosshairs since the class began, losing a total of 15 points between them. "That insufferable old bat..." Fred grumbled, mashing peas with more enthusiasm than was strictly necessary, as if they were his mortal enemies. As Snape passed by Nolan Von Draugr's desk, he noticed the young vampire attempting to feed dried beetles to his pet toad. Snape's lip twitched twice in irritation. "If you've concocted some novel approach to potion-making, I'd love to hear about it, Von Draugr." Nolan sighed in frustration and muttered, "I don't know what it wants to eat, Professor Snape..." He then turned to the toad, scolding it like a wayward child. "You can't be so picky. Toads eat insects, all toads do. Why won't you eat these beetles? Are you feeling unwell?" That's because it's not a real toad, Nolan! Both Gryffindor and Slytherin students screamed this in their minds. The only one openly enjoying the moment was Eve Stock, who giggled, her small, sharp teeth showing in delight. She found it immensely satisfying. ... After class, Severus Snape stood in the now-empty dungeon, brooding in silence. "What happened during the lesson, Professor Snape?" Minerva McGonagall, clad in her emerald-green robes, strode into the room with her characteristic stern expression. Her icy tone reflected the ever-tense relationship between Gryffindor and Slytherin heads. Snape, clearly at his wit's end, tugged at his hair in frustration. "That infernal brat turned a fellow student into a toad, keeps it in a tank at night, and parades it around during the day as if it were a pet! That little devil is exactly what I've always said—every descendant of the Von Draugr family is a menace! Albus should have known better!" "Oh, heavens..." McGonagall clutched her chest as if warding off a sudden bout of high blood pressure. After a moment's thought, she added, "Why didn't you simply explain to him that such behavior isn't acceptable? You must realize, Professor Snape, that vampires aren't well-versed in wizarding customs. Nolan may genuinely not know what's appropriate and what isn't." Snape fumed. "And what would you have me do? Sit down with him and discuss the finer points of proper vampire conduct?" "No, not exactly," McGonagall replied, her tone softening slightly. "As Slytherin's Head of House, it's your responsibility to understand him. Not all vampires are heartless killers, nor are they inherently evil. I believe Nolan is a good boy... he's just a bit... um, reckless?" Her voice faltered, betraying her own uncertainty. "Professor Snape, you must remember that to a vampire, a wizard's lifespan is astonishingly brief. To him, we might seem as insignificant as kittens or puppies, which is why he struggles to see his classmates as equals. You should guide him—encourage him to make some real friends or perhaps even..." She hesitated. "...pursue a romantic relationship. He might grow more cooperative." Snape was silent for a long moment before finally forcing out a single word: "...Fantastic." "My job has now officially devolved from professor to babysitter. Absolutely fantastic." At that moment, the dungeon door creaked open, its heavy hinges groaning ominously. "Hm? Am I interrupting something?" Nolan Von Draugr stepped out from behind the door, his sharp gaze shifting between Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall. His expression was puzzled as he added, "If the two of you need some privacy, I can leave. I promise to keep your relationship a secret." McGonagall groaned, pressing a hand to her forehead as if battling rising blood pressure. "Oh, heavens, heavens..." Snape's lips barely moved as he hissed coldly, "Don't test my patience, vampire boy. State your purpose and get out! Go back to your dormitory and fuss over your toad!" "Oh, right." Nolan rummaged through a pocket in his robes and pulled out a small vial. "This is a potion I made for Professor Snape." "Give it here." Snape uncorked the vial, holding it under his nose for a cautious sniff. The unfamiliar scent prompted a wary glance at Nolan. "What is this? A hemorrhoid remedy?" "Hemorrhoids?" Nolan blinked in confusion. "What are those? No, this is a potion to thank you for being our professor. Its effect... well, I think it's better if you drink it to find out." Snape's expression turned even more suspicious. In all his years of teaching, he had never received a "gift" like this from a student. Was the potion poisoned? Or was it some sort of prank? His eyes narrowed. "If I find out this is meant to mock or harm me, I will make sure you regret it. Pureblood or not, I swear it!" McGonagall, however, encouraged Snape to accept the gesture of goodwill, insisting it might be genuine. After a moment of hesitation, Snape tilted his head back and drank the potion. Seconds later, smoke began rising from his greasy black hair. "What on earth—oh, heavens!" McGonagall cried out in astonishment. Snape's hair started spinning furiously, like a high-speed propeller. The centrifugal force flung oily droplets everywhere—splattering onto the floor, desks, and even the ceiling. Amid the chaos, McGonagall let out a sharp scream and transformed into her Animagus form—a tabby cat—to avoid the flying grease. Meanwhile, Nolan calmly retrieved a black umbrella from his robes, opened it, and shielded himself from the mess. McGonagall, still in her feline form, scurried over to him and darted into the folds of his robes for safety. "Stop this! You idiotic vampire, make it stop!" Snape clutched his head, yelling in a mix of rage and desperation. From behind the umbrella, Nolan's measured voice replied, "I believe the most important thing for a professor is to maintain a proper appearance, Professor Snape. Your disheveled state has surpassed my tolerance. For the sake of my future studies in Potions, I hope you'll adopt a cleaner and more presentable look. Try to be a bit sunnier, like Professor Sprout or Professor Flitwick—they're excellent role models." "I'LL KILL YOU! YOU BLOODY VAMPIRE, I SWEAR I'LL KILL YOU!" "Hm? Oh, it's time for my first Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Have a pleasant afternoon, Professor Snape." "With that, Nolan strolled out of the dungeon, leaving behind a livid Snape, an oil-slicked classroom, and a flustered feline McGonagall."