Chương 44: Chapter 45 : The art of potion making

On paper, brewing a Boil-Cure Potion sounded fairly straightforward. One just had to follow the instructions in 'Magical Drafts and Potions.' Heat the water, toss in six crushed snake fangs, stir the mixture for a bit, add four sliced horned slugs, take the cauldron off the fire before mixing in the porcupine quills, give everything one last stir, and then wait for the potion to settle for a bit.

If you accurately followed all the steps, you would end up with a vial of perfectly pink rose potion that James Potter might have gifted Snape when he got married to Lily since it worked spectacularly on burns as well. Or so the textbook claimed. According to Professor Snape, however, anyone foolish enough to rely solely on the textbook to brew potions might as well give up on the subject altogether and accept that they possessed the intellectual capacity of a troll.

The textbook only told you 'what' to do, but not 'how' to do it. The snake fangs couldn't be crushed into powder. Powder released its magical properties too quickly, resulting in an unstable base. They couldn't be left in large chunks either. They had to be somewhere in between. The flame couldn't be too weak or too strong. Even "low heat" apparently had several different meanings depending on what stage of the potion you were brewing. The stirring wasn't as simple as moving a spoon in circles.

Stir too slowly and the ingredients wouldn't combine properly. Stir too quickly and you'd ruin the consistency. And according to Snape, older horned slugs released more moisture than younger ones, meaning they occasionally had to be sliced thinner to keep the potion from becoming overly diluted. And guess what? Even following every one of his additional instructions couldn't guarantee a successful brew. Snape admitted it himself. Apparently, in the process of brewing a potion, nothing was absolute.

Since the quality of the ingredients varied, their magical properties couldn't always be identical. The surrounding environment also mattered, and every so often, even bad luck could fuck things up. Some high-level potions even required the potion master to drink a vial or two of Felix Felicis to ensure success. There were exceptions. Then exceptions to those exceptions. Then exceptions to the exceptions that already had exceptions. Which meant… that every now and then, you'd have to adapt.

Credit where it was due, though. Whenever such complications arose, Snape identified them instantly, explained the cause, what signs should have warned them earlier, and how to avoid repeating the same mistake next time.

"If silver steam begins turning green," he said while inspecting a cauldron, "your flame is too high. Lower it immediately before continuing." The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. He moved two tables farther.

"If violet bubbles form around the rim, stir three additional rotations before adding the slugs."

"If your potion thickens prematurely, do not add the quills. Wait until the consistency loosens naturally. One point from Hufflepuff for wasting a set of ingredients." Yeah, he was still a bastard. Unfortunately, the lesson had also managed to accomplish something Tyson hadn't believed was possible. His already low interest in Potions sank even lower. Memorizing everything wasn't the issue. He'd already committed most of Snape's explanations to memory.

The problem was that every additional explanation somehow made Potions sound less like a subject and more like guesswork. It rewarded following an absurd number of microscopic instructions while praying today's horned slugs had roughly the same moisture content as the ones the author had used when writing the bloody textbook. Needless to say, Tyson wasn't exactly sold. He had already decided.

Unlike Charms and Transfiguration, which interested him enough to study above his grade, Potions didn't hold the same allure. So he'd stick with whatever pace the class normally moved at. He naturally paired with Anthony, and his nerd friend truly proved to be every bit as competent as he'd claimed. His movements looked instinctive, and he never hesitated before adding an ingredient or adjusting the flame. Even his stirring had a certain rhythm to it. If Potions required talent, then he certainly had plenty of it.

Compared to him, Tyson quickly found himself promoted to the prestigious position of an assistant. He simply fetched the ingredients and passed them over to Anthony whenever he asked. He absolutely enjoyed the laid-back role. There was also comfort in knowing that if the cauldron exploded, all the accountability would lie with Anthony. It never happened, though. In the end, they produced a smooth rose-pink potion as described in the textbook, with a faint silver glow across its surface.

When Snape stopped beside their table, he inspected it for several long seconds, raising an eyebrow.

"…Adequate." Anthony's eyes lit up, his shoulders straightening ever so slightly.

"…Though I expected better," he added. With that, he walked away without another word. The expression on Anthony's face looked like his father had just forgotten to say he was proud of him for achieving full marks in kindergarten.

"I thought that went rather well," Anthony said, his shoulders sagging slightly.

"It did," Tyson replied.

"I'm pretty sure that's just Professor Snape's way of saying 'Outstanding.' The rest of the class will probably be lucky to scrape a D." He wasn't exaggerating. Looking around the classroom, Tyson found a veritable rainbow of potions. Only a handful had brewed the smooth rose-pink they were supposed to. The rest ranged from muddy brown and sickly green to shades he was fairly certain no medicinal liquid had any business being. A select few somehow achieved something even more spectacular.

They ended up melting their cauldrons—something Professor Snape had specifically warned them about before the lesson even began. In fact, he'd gone so far as to write REMOVE CAULDRON FROM FIRE BEFORE ADDING PORCUPINE QUILLS across the blackboard in large capital letters. Apparently, reading was an optional skill. Michael and Terry proudly represented Ravenclaw in that particular category. Needless to say, Snape was less than impressed. In the end, they were deducted ten points. Each.

Thanks to their generous contribution, Tyson finally got rid of the tag of the person who lost the most points during the lesson. Sometimes friendship really was about sharing the burden. By the time the double period finally came to an end, every first-year looked mentally and physically drained. Well… Almost everyone except Tyson. What could he say? He was factually superior to everyone his age both in body and mind. Kidding. He simply hadn't done very much. Or was he?

As they climbed the stairs out of the dungeons, Anthony headed straight back to Ravenclaw Tower, saying he wanted to write a letter home. Michael, meanwhile, said that he was starving and made a beeline for the Great Hall. Terry shrugged and followed after him. Given the choice between lunch and accompanying Tyson to the library, it wasn't exactly a difficult decision. Tyson didn't mind. He had more important things to do. It was time to properly begin his magical studies.