Sometimes, potion brewing seemed so Muggle-like
that it led many to believe that as long as one followed the steps, even a Muggle could brew a potion.
But the truth was the opposite.
Even if a Muggle had all the ingredients and followed instructions precisely, they still couldn't make a potion, because brewing always required some magic to guide the process, sometimes even the use of a wand.
For the Scabious Potion, the magical part appeared at the very end.
At that moment, the wizard had to make a special gesture and silently recite a particular incantation.
Its general meaning was:
"Endow this potion with the power to heal scabies."
As for the previous steps, Sean was currently carrying them out.
In the dungeon.
Dim light cast spots on the stone walls. The cauldron, simmering gently, released curling white smoke and faintly fragrant aromas.
The empty underground room held nothing but the bubbling sounds from the cauldron and the rustle of Sean flipping through Magical Potions and Brews.
Professor Snape had made the key points of potion brewing very clear in the first lesson:
precision and rigor.
Sean turned to the required section in Magical Potions and Brews.
Though he had already memorized it, he kept the book nearby for reference just in case.
"Step one: weigh the ingredients, simmer the slug with antennae…"
Before the cauldron reached the specified preheating temperature, Sean quickly measured four portions of ingredients to exact standards,
then immediately began simmering the slug with antennae.
During the simmering, he used the tools on the table to crush the poisonous snake teeth and chop the pre-soaked dry nettles.
Here, the skills he had learned in the greenhouse proved invaluable.
He handled the ingredients smoothly, meeting the required standards, with time to spare.
During the idle moments, Sean did not stop; he quickly recorded the current amounts and states of the ingredients.
He even monitored the flames, even though the cauldron in the dungeon was self-igniting—he would eventually need to learn to control fire with a wand, after all.
Sean was always accustomed to preparing in advance.
"Step two: remove the slug, add dry nettles and poisonous snake teeth…"
With ample time, Sean reviewed Magical Potions and Brews again to ensure he wouldn't forget any detail out of nervousness.
The brown-black book, with a cauldron and steam depicted on the cover, lay beside him,
its first page displaying: [Basic brewing method—this book is sufficient].
"Step three: stir two circles to the left, then three to the right, with moderate force…"
Sean stirred the potion with the precise force needed to break the bubbles, maintaining a steady posture.
In truth, he was a little nervous.
Professor Snape could appear at any moment, and his practice might not succeed.
Humans naturally fear the unknown; Sean was no exception, so he worked especially carefully.
"Almost done. Add the slug, then lift the cauldron and add the porcupine quills."
At this point, the brewing had clearly reached its most critical stage.
The slug dissolved immediately upon entering the cauldron, and the potion took on a pale blue color.
Sean silently counted in his mind:
"Twenty-five, twenty-four, twenty-three…"
Even during this pause, he did not idle. He meticulously recorded the details of subsequent steps, including timing, ingredient states, and flame intensity.
Next came the most thrilling moment.
Sean stirred the cauldron, gestured with his arm, and recited the incantation.
After a few moments of bubbling, the cauldron transformed into… a blue-green jelly-like liquid.
Huh?
Why blue-green?
No alert sounded from the panel.
Sean knew with certainty that he had failed, but judging by the final effect of the potion, it wasn't a major failure.
He frowned. If the ingredients had been processed correctly, then the error had to be in the brewing process.
Was it the stirring, the flame, or the final spell that went wrong?
Or all of them?
Sean suddenly remembered a passage from Magical Theory:
[Once you have mastered a spell, to truly unleash its full power, you need sufficient mental focus.]
Sean noted the phrasing—"a spell."
Did this principle also apply to potions?
He knew his talent for potion-making was limited. Like spells, mastering the technique might require a hundred or more attempts, but he had little time and few ingredients.
Thus, he had to take shortcuts.
Carefully, he pulled Advanced Potions from his bag and skimmed the obscure content.
Soon, he found a description that made his eyes light up:
[The Ministry classifies Compound Decoctions as high-risk magic, because their effects are heavily influenced by the brewer's emotional state, requiring strict supervision.]
He didn't fully understand the emotional requirements for brewing, but he knew that nervousness and mechanical motions were out of the question.
When the cauldron was reignited and steam rose again,
Sean's tense body gradually relaxed. He told himself: if Professor Snape discovered him,
whether his practice succeeded or failed, he would be in trouble.
A successful failure or a failed failure— the difference was significant.
His green eyes grew deep and calm again, even his stirring gained a rhythmic grace.
Sean was always good at controlling his emotions; a child without this skill would fare poorly at Hollysse Orphanage.
The nettles melted like sugar in the cauldron, the venomous teeth sizzled into the potion.
Sean used the same precise flame as before. This time, he truly felt as if he were creating a work of art.
The art of potion-making.
White steam wafted from the cauldron as time passed quietly, marked only by the gentle clink of the spoon against the cauldron wall.
When Sean added the porcupine quills again, the extinguished cauldron seemed to absorb the final ingredients as one.
Sean focused on completing the ritual and reciting the incantation.
This time, the cauldron no longer changed slowly; it seemed to obey Sean's will,
churning rapidly.
In no time, the liquid became jelly-like, its color now nearly a deep green.
[You have successfully brewed a full pot of Scabious Potion With apprentice Level Skill. Proficiency +1]
Sean's eyes shone brightly as he stared at the dark green, jelly-like potion, a smile creeping across his lips.
He wasted no time, meticulously recording every step in his notebook.
The most important part he emphasized in large letters:
[Potions are precise craftsmanship; a wizard's focus and calm are the keys.]
Just as he immersed himself in reflection and notes, a torch flickered on the stairs leading to the dungeon,
and above the cold steps, the black hem of a robe suddenly swirled.
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