Hogwarts: I, Tangmu, Am Really Not the Dark Lord

Sifu continued roll call, glaring at Tangmu Lideer with a deep, hollow stare. Tangmu smiled warmly at his financial backer.

Snorting, Sifu snapped the roster shut. "You're here for a precise craft," his voice quiet but clear. "No wand-waving like imbeciles. You might doubt it's magic."

"I don't expect you to grasp a cauldron's silver vapors, the subtle fragrance of simmering potions, or the power in cut veins and vines."

"But I can teach you to bottle fame, brew glory, stopper death—if you're not brainless idiots."

Silence fell. Halili Butei and Luoen fidgeted. Hemin Gelanjie leaned forward, eager, with others keen to prove themselves.

"Butei!" Sifu's gaze locked on Halili. "Powdered asphodel with wormwood infusion—what's the result?"

Halili understood "add," nothing else. Glancing at Luoen, he saw him shrinking, avoiding eye contact.

Hemin's hand shot up, but Sifu ignored her.

"I don't know, Professor," Halili said stiffly.

Sifu sneered. "Fame isn't everything."

Mafoi and cronies snickered.

"Easier, Butei. Where to find a bezoar?"

"…I don't know. What's a bezoar?"

"I ask, not you. Gryffindor, minus one point."

Sifu glared. "Simpler. Monkshood versus wolfsbane?"

"Miss Gelanjie, sit properly," he snapped at Hemin, rising slightly. She froze, frustrated.

Halili stared blankly. "Still don't know, Professor."

Sifu sighed, disappointed, then turned. "Lideer, looking relaxed, confident. Answer—what's powdered asphodel with wormwood?"

Tangmu, expecting this since their skirmish (Chapter 23), stood calmly under Hemin's envious gaze.

"Asphodel, or yellow daylily, a lily family member, grows in the Underworld's Fields of Asphodel in Greek mythology, symbolizing the dead's resting place. In Victorian flower language, it means 'My regrets follow you to the grave.'"

"Wormwood symbolizes bitterness, remorse."

"The question uses floral symbolism to express regret toward someone pure as asphodel, noble as a lily… or named Lily?"

Swish—the class, including Halili, stared at Sifu, confused, suspicious.

Was that the question's intent? Halili thought—Lily, his mother's name?

Sifu staggered back, shocked, staring at Tangmu like he saw a ghost.

I asked an answer, not literary subtext!

Tangmu hit Sifu's hidden guilt—his pain, apology—veiled in a potion question. Why else pick Draught of Living Death, a sixth-year potion, to trip Butei?

Damn you, Tangmu Lideer! Second time stabbing my heart! (Chapter 23)

Sifu clenched his teeth. "Lideer! I asked the potion, not a flower poem! If you don't know, say so—no sentimental nonsense!"

"Oh, that's what you meant," Tangmu feigned realization, as if recalling this was Potions, not literature. "Proper ratios make the Draught of Living Death—a sleeping potion echoing remorse's agony. Poetic."

Pfft—! He's doing it again!

Sifu snapped, façade crumbling. "SIT DOWN! I SAID SIT DOWN!"

Tangmu sat, innocent. Dafuni Gelingelasi, beside him, was stunned.

Why was a correct answer so infuriating?

Pupils glanced at Halili, Tangmu, Sifu.

"What are you looking at? Answers on my face?" Sifu bellowed. "Write! Want me to stuff answers in your skulls?"

The class scrambled to scribble.

Sifu glanced at Kasal Nuote's notes, face purpling. "Why write Lideer's nonsense?! I said the formula!"

"You're the worst class I've ever had!"

[^1]: In the Wizarding World, the Draught of Living Death induces deep sleep. Asphodel and wormwood are potion ingredients with symbolic meanings.