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In the magical world, pure-blood families are all related to each other.
After all, if a wizard only wants his children to marry pure-bloods, his choices are very limited – the pure-blood ideal is like an invisible barrier, simply and rudely separating wizards into two sides.
This is why Snape, despite his power, has never been truly accepted by the Death Eaters.
As a half-blood (Muggle and wizard), Snape wasn't even qualified to be a pure-blood wizard's godfather, let alone interfere in the complex family feuds and relationships between pure-blood wizarding families.
"That damn, arrogant black dog..."
Snape returned to his quarters, leaning against the wall by the fireplace, taking deep breaths.
From the day he lost Lily forever, he thought he would never be agitated by anything again, until last year when Harry Potter re-enrolled, this stubborn little guy gave him a first taste of long-lost affection.
This made him recall the time many years ago when he and Evans supported each other at Hogwarts.
The appearance of Sirius Black stirred up some bad memories for Severus Snape. A dozen years ago, he broke with Evans because of that unforgivable impulse, and this time he wouldn't let it happen again.
Lucius Malfoy's reprimands weren't the biggest concern right now – if Black's actions really broke the law, the Ministry of Magic would naturally give him trouble, which Snape would be happy to see.
Harry was just an underage wizard who had just turned twelve, and was easily influenced by others when it came to distinguishing right from wrong.
Sirius Black was no saint. Black might be responsible for tutoring Harry, but he would definitely instill some terrible ideas, especially taking the opportunity to tarnish Snape's image.
For Snape, watching Harry become close to his godfather was undoubtedly a very upsetting thing.
To make matters worse, Snape, who had failed to apply for the "Defense Against the Dark Arts" professorship again, had long since learned from Dumbledore the name of the professor who would be teaching the course next semester: Remus Lupin, the mastermind of the Potter quartet.
With Sirius and Lupin becoming Hogwarts professors one after another, things would only get worse.
Just as Sirius Black said, in the whole affair, Snape was just an outsider with no standing, at most just an old classmate of Harry's mother, and the professor whose courses Harry liked.
But only liked...
There were too many talented peers at Hogwarts.
Even though little Harry worked hard, as a playful little boy, a less monstrous wizard, even with Snape's tutoring, Harry's potions grades only fluctuated between second and fourth in the grade.
Whether it was Hermione Granger, or Draco Malfoy, they were all very strong rivals for little Harry... not to mention above these two, there was "Moonlight" located in the clouds of Hogwarts.
"Perhaps..."
Snape pondered for a few seconds, his eyes subconsciously shifting to the stone platform above the fireplace.
There lay an old textbook he had recently found in the potions classroom storage cabinet, the potions textbook he had used when he was at Hogwarts decades ago - if it weren't for finding this old textbook, Snape had almost forgotten that he had such an embarrassing and chuunibyou black history.
According to Snape's original idea, he intended to seal this past forever, as if it had never existed.
But...
Snape's mind suddenly flashed with a passage that Elena had inadvertently said – "No one likes a subject they are not good at. For students, the most liked subject and the most skilled subject actually mean the same thing."
The former Half-Blood Prince raised his finger and tapped the old potions textbook, muttering to himself thoughtfully.
"Perhaps in addition to regular classroom teaching, Harry needs some inconspicuous, but extremely important little secrets that can help him stand out in potions class, preferably to defeat Elena Kaslana..."
Hogwarts professors no longer evaluate Elena as a "once-in-a-century" magical genius.
The future is still difficult to say, but if only compared to Elena's age, even looking back at the nearly thousand-year history of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, one cannot find a wizard who can be compared to this girl.
As for the monstrous nature of this "potions class assistant," Severus Snape can be said to be one of the professors who feels it the most deeply. Whether it is in rigor, creativity, or knowledge absorption, Elena has reached the level of half a professor.
There is no doubt that as it stands, no student can defeat Elena Kaslana.
Especially in potions class, this is even more the case - ordinary students cannot defeat professors, even if the other party is just an assistant, they are still one of the in-depth participants in the course and exam process. The referee is almost invincible when playing.
However...
If the opponent is replaced by another official professor, the result will be difficult to say...
Snape raised his eyebrows, put down the old textbook, and waved his wand gently in the room.
Click.
A crumpled *Magical Drafts and Potions* flew out of the bookshelf and landed in his hand.
Hogwarts first and second year potions classes will use this textbook written by Professor Arsenius Jigger.
Although in Snape's opinion, many of the potions ideas in it are outdated, and there are many things that can be improved in the process of concocting some basic potions and handling materials, as a potions introductory course for children, it is still barely qualified.
"This book seems... a little too new?"
Snape frowned and carefully compared the two potions textbooks in his hand. He tapped the cover of *Magical Drafts and Potions* with his wand, and the pages of the book he had specially bought as preparation material instantly turned yellow and curled up. Various wrinkles and creases spread little by little across the book cover and pages, as if decades had passed in an instant.
"Well, this looks much more normal. Now all that's missing is a mysterious former owner of the textbook..."
His frown relaxed, he glanced at the tattered *Advanced Potion Making*, and tapped again with his wand, a small, dense line at the bottom of the cover of *Magical Drafts and Potions* - "This book belongs to the Half-Blood Prince."
This way, even if Elena discovers Harry's secret later, it doesn't matter.
Compared to losing to his peers, being crushed by the notes left by a mysterious senior decades ago might be a more painful blow to the proud Elena Kaslana.
Snape tapped the textbook in his hand lightly, revealing a meaningful smile.
As long as he doesn't reveal the answer, even if Elena searches through the entire Hogwarts student files over the years, or even goes to Albus Dumbledore to ask, she will not be able to know who the "Half-Blood Prince" is - the unknown is the most terrible opponent.

…………

The next day, early morning.

On the other side, Moscow.

Newt Scamander held a map left over from decades ago in his hand.
Decades had passed, and too many changes had taken place in this distant Eastern country.
Newt had tried several times, but was unable to directly connect to the cities where those old friends lived via the Floo Network.
Helpless, he could only first arrive in Moscow through the Ministry of Magic's official channels, preparing to first check with the latest maps of the local Muggles, and then use Apparition to travel to the cities where those old friends lived.
But...
Now that he looked at it, the map didn't seem to be able to help him either.
Newt sighed, looked around at the bustling street, and walked to a stall selling metal badges, handicrafts, cigarettes, and various foreign magazines with scantily clad women on the cover.
"Good morning, friend! Would you like to buy something?"
The stall owner was an old man with temples turning grey, and calluses all over his tiger's mouth.
The old man looked at the English-style windbreaker on Newt's body, his eyes lit up, and he said enthusiastically in broken English.
"Look, here's the newly arrived *Playboy* magazine. Although it may be a little outdated, it's still quite difficult to buy in this city. You'll definitely like it! Just two dollars, or pounds of course!"
"Right, right, there are also many good badges here. I guarantee these are rare things you haven't seen before..."
In this era, foreign tourists were the most welcome customers.
And the most important reason was that these tourists from Western countries usually used dollars and pounds, which were very valuable currencies, to buy goods, instead of the former Soviet rubles, which were changing towards toilet paper prices every day.
"I'm sorry, I'm not here to buy anything. I'm here to ask for directions..."
Newt scratched his nose a little awkwardly, and in the old man's disappointed eyes, pointed to the map in his hand.
"Ask for directions? Okay, are you going to Citibank to do business, or to take pictures of the Kremlin?"
The old man put down the magazine and the pile of metal badge boxes with some disappointment, and waved his hand.
"Citibank can be seen if you keep walking straight down this road, and the Kremlin is in the opposite direction."
After pausing for a few seconds, the old man tried his best to squeeze out a smile that was not so skilled, and looked up at Newt Scamander with some anticipation, thought for a while and added.
"By the way, if you need a local guide, you can hire me. Fifteen dollars a day, or pounds! I'm definitely cheaper than those unreliable young people in the square - I know how to get around most of Russia, not just Moscow."
"Really? That's great!"
Newt breathed a sigh of relief, took out twenty pounds and handed it to the old man, and asked in not-so-fluent Russian.
"Hi, comrade! Do you know where Leningrad and Stalingrad are? I can't find them on the map."
The old man's outstretched hand stopped in mid-air.
The twenty-pound note printed with the Queen's portrait floated down lightly onto the stall between the two, covering the silver badges printed with the hammer and sickle pattern that the old man had been trying so hard to sell.
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