After finding the page on the Philosopher's Stone, Kyle carefully placed the book on the table and read through it thoroughly:
"The greatest achievent of ancient alchemy, a magical substance with astounding abilities: it can transmute any tal into pure gold and produce the Elixir of Life, granting immortality to the drinker.
Three Philosopher's Stones have appeared in history, each bringing with it tragic and bloody wars. The longest of these wars raged for twenty years, and the nation holding the Stone was obliterated within the first decade.
Due to the horrific bloodshed it has caused, the Philosopher's Stone is also called the Bloody Gem.
Of these three Stones, one was destroyed by rlin and King Arthur, while another was acquired by Rowena Ravenclaw, who, alongside three allies, established the renowned Hogwarts School. This feat ca at the cost of the complete destruction of the Stone.
The only known remaining Philosopher's Stone belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flal, a distinguished alchemist and opera enthusiast."
Below the text was an illustration of the Philosopher’s Stone: a brilliant red, irregularly shaped stone, resembling an uncut ruby.
Kyle stared at the image for a while, examining its details closely. He was still deep in thought when Cedric ca to remind him it was ti to eat. On the way to the Great Hall, Kyle managed to return the book just before the library closed. Madam Pince raised an eyebrow but didn’t comnt, assuming Kyle had been doing research for an assignnt.
For the next few days, Kyle didn’t think much about the Philosopher’s Stone, instead directing all his attention to Snape’s notes. Despite Snape’s disheveled appearance, his notes were ticulously organized. They contained detailed annotations and explanations, making even the most complex ideas easy to follow.
Inspired by these notes, Kyle rembered sothing else he had stumbled upon during one of his nightti excursions. He had discovered an old copy of Advanced Potion-Making in a forgotten closet of the underground classroom. It was tattered, but on the inside cover, there was a small handwritten note: “This book is the property of the Half-Blood Prince.”
Tsk, the Half-Blood Prince… I didn’t know Snape was such a bookworm, Kyle thought with amusent as he tucked the book under his arm. He decided he’d buy a new copy soon to replace it.
Ti passed quickly, and soon it was December. Hogwarts was blanketed in a thick layer of snow, and the lake had frozen over. With Christmas just around the corner, the students were more excited than usual, and it took every professor ten points or more per class just to keep their attention.
Of course, a few professors were exceptions to this rule. Professor Binns never docked points for inattentiveness, and in Potions, no one dared daydream with Professor Snape at the helm—even if Christmas were the very next day.
Today was no different. In the dimly lit underground classroom, everyone was focused on the careful steps required to brew their latest potion, and even the whispered exchanges were kept barely audible.
At the mont, Snape stood behind Kyle, observing him with a curious expression as Kyle used the flat of his knife to crush Sopophorous beans, expertly extracting their juice.
“What on earth is going on? I really don’t know what to think…” Snape muttered under his breath.
He’d noticed Kyle’s rapid progress in Potions over the past few days. The improvent was far too substantial to have happened naturally, especially since Kyle was already one of the most proficient students in class. Snape suspected that Kyle had sohow peeked at the notes he’d given to Kanna, which only covered content up to fifth year.
To test his theory, Snape had abandoned the planned lesson on the Hair-Raising Potion and opted for the more challenging Draught of Living Death, a potion not typically taught until sixth year.
His plan was simple: if Kyle attempted to make this advanced potion, his unfamiliarity with sixth-year techniques would expose him.
Snape had already decided to deduct fifty points, whether Kyle’s attempt was successful or not. After all, the Draught of Living Death was notoriously difficult, requiring painstaking precision and a high level of skill. Snape was certain that Kyle’s attempt would reveal evidence of unauthorized access to his notes.
But now… Snape found himself uncharacteristically stumped. Kyle’s thod of extracting the juice from the Sopophorous beans was flawless—even Snape himself couldn’t have done it more efficiently. And this technique wasn’t in the notes; it was clearly sothing Kyle had learned independently. Next to him, Kanna struggled to slice the slippery beans, barely managing.
Could he really not be using my notes? Snape thought, frowning. Even the most gifted student couldn’t progress this much on their own in such a short ti.
He decided to keep a close watch, positioning himself right behind Kyle for the entire lesson. When a cauldron exploded across the room, Snape didn’t even move—he simply flicked his wand to clear the ss and ejected the unfortunate student from the classroom, all while keeping his gaze fixed on Kyle’s work.
By the end of class, Snape stared at the cauldron containing Kyle’s perfectly brewed Draught of Living Death. For a mont, he opened his mouth, as if about to deliver a scathing critique, but the words failed him. Instead, he let out a sharp, annoyed huff.
“How did you do that?” he demanded, voice tense.
“Pardon?” Kyle looked up, clearly confused.
“I an,” Snape continued, his face hardening, “why has your potion-making improved so drastically?”
“I’m not sure, sir,” Kyle replied with a friendly smile. “It might be due to my ti with Director Sykes at St. Mungo’s. She taught a lot over the sumr and let study many of her potions.”
“Pegasia Sykes?” Snape’s eyes narrowed. He knew of Sykes, one of the most accomplished Potioneers of the generation, though he doubted that this fully accounted for Kyle’s recent skills. If Sykes’s influence were the reason, Kyle’s improvent would have been evident at the start of the school year, not months in.
“Tell the truth!” Snape demanded, staring intensely into Kyle’s eyes.
“I am, Professor,” Kyle replied, his face a picture of sincerity. “If you don’t believe , you could write to Director Sykes yourself—she’d confirm it. Oh, and I recently ran into an older student who lent so of their old textbooks. They’ve been really helpful.”
Snape’s expression darkened further. He cast Kyle one last, piercing look before turning and leaving the Potions classroom without a word. An older student’s textbook? As if any past student could brew such a flawless Draught of Living Death in class…
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