Three days later, at the Leaky Cauldron.
In Leonard's room, a cauldron bubbled steadily, steam curling upward as the liquid inside shifted from green to purple, then back to black, cycling again and again.
Leonard's expression was serious as he watched the changes. From his sleeve, a silver-glimmering sprout poked its head out, like a curious child peering into the cauldron.
For the past few days, Leonard had been busy brewing—everything from Essence of Dittany to Invigoration Draughts.
Yesterday, after receiving the Wolfsbane Potion formula from Midgard, he had thrown himself into attempting it.
Midgard, of course, would rely on trusted potion makers to brew the Wolfsbane Potion, and with Damocles Belby's patent documents already secured, there was no risk of theft. In just a few days, the patent would legally belong to Leonard.
But that didn't mean he could relax. Even if Belby swore never to admit any connection between himself and the Wolfsbane Potion, as the patent holder Leonard couldn't very well be unable to brew it.
That would be absurd.
Yet Wolfsbane proved far harder to brew than he expected. From the moment he received the formula, he had begun purchasing ingredients and experimenting. Fifty Galleons' worth of supplies had nearly vanished already.
And so far, not a single successful vial.
This attempt was his closest yet—he'd reached the final stage. As long as he didn't make a mistake now, he might finally manage a proper Wolfsbane Potion.
The quality might be questionable, but at least it would be safe and carry the intended effects.
When the liquid shifted through its seventh color change, Leonard moved quickly, adding the pre-prepared ingredients from the table one by one in exact order.
The potion continued to fluctuate in color, but each change was halted just in time by the next ingredient.
At last, with everything added, the mixture settled into a deep crimson, rich and dark like aged wine.
Unfortunately, the "wine" was speckled with black clumps floating stubbornly within.
Leonard frowned, snuffed out the fire beneath the cauldron, and gave the mixture a stir with his spoon.
The black residue clung stubbornly, refusing to dissolve no matter how he mixed.
"Success, but not good enough. Am I still adding the ingredients at the wrong time?" Leonard sighed as he poured the potion from the cauldron into bottles.
This batch produced three vials. Judging by their color, they counted as a success, but the quality was poor—drinking them would almost certainly bring unpleasant side effects.
"Damn it, what a pain." Leonard rubbed his sore eyes, strained from hours of watching the shifting colors inside the cauldron.
"Forget it, this will have to do." He wrapped the three Wolfsbane Potions in oiled paper, ready to send them to Midgard.
At that moment, a silvery sprout slipped from his sleeve and blocked his hand.
Leonard blinked in confusion. As he wondered what this strange plant was up to, he felt a tug at his sleeve. The sprout pointed insistently toward the leftover ingredients on the table.
"You're not trying to say you can brew Wolfsbane Potion, are you?" Leonard asked with a chuckle.
To his surprise, the sprout actually bobbed up and down as if nodding.
Leonard suddenly felt ridiculous.
He had spent an entire day barely managing to produce a flawed batch, and now this little sprout that had only been watching was claiming it knew how?
Half-skeptical, Leonard reached for the ingredients, feeling the faint pull of the Ancient Sprout's guidance.
It couldn't handle delicate work on its own, but it seemed able to offer hints and nudges at key moments.
After a moment's thought, Leonard reignited the cauldron, deciding to try brewing again under the sprout's direction.
Soon, another pot of liquid simmered, its colors shifting rapidly. Throughout the process, the Ancient Sprout corrected him again and again, and the hues grew noticeably clearer and brighter.
Then came the crucial stage: wait for seven color changes, then add the final ingredients.
Leonard cleared his mind, dropping each ingredient into the cauldron exactly when the Ancient Sprout indicated.
Along the way, it even had him adjust the flame, changing the intensity of the boil.
"So it was the temperature all along?" Leonard muttered as he followed the last of the sprout's guidance and finished the brew.
Before long, four vials of potion stood on the table, as clear and rich as red wine.
"It actually worked..." Leonard stared at the Ancient Sprout, which was swaying proudly as if demanding praise. His feelings tangled—both joy and bitterness.
Joy, because with the sprout's help, potion-making would be far easier. He could now brew high-quality potions without much struggle.
Bitterness, because his own skills were outdone by a strange plant. And that was just depressing.
...
[Upto 50 chapters ahead for now]
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