The Wind Howls, a Storm Is Coming

Sunday evening.

The Great Hall was decorated with hundreds of pumpkins with lit candles, a large flock of live bats Accio, and many orange banners with flames, like colorful water snakes, lazily floating on the ceiling that seemed to be brewing a storm.

Looking at the tempting food on the table, the little wizards, who had filled their stomachs to the brim at Honeydukes, were a little worried.

My stomach says it can't eat anymore, but my brain and tongue still want to eat more.

While enjoying the meal, Loren turned his gaze to the High Table.

The improved version of the Wolfsbane Potion from Leopard-skin flower should be a success. Professor Lupin looks no different than usual and is having a lively conversation with the short Professor Flitwick.

If anything is amiss, it's probably Professor Snape; his eyes keep glancing at Lupin, more often than usual.

An open space was cleared in front of the Great Hall, and a straight stage was set up. Sir Nicholas reenacted his beheading experience, and it was a great success... at least the first-year students were amazed.

The lively and festive Halloween has come to an end, and Hogwarts has entered November.

The weather grew colder, with the north wind howling incessantly, rattling the old wooden windows of the Castle. At night, the cold wind blowing through the corridors produced a mournful, plaintive wail, like Banshee hiding in the shadows. For this reason, the number of young wizards roaming at night noticeably decreased.

On an ordinary Friday evening, before the torches in the Castle went out, Loren arrived at the Slytherin Head of House's office in the dungeons.

The effects of the Leopard-skin flower version of the Wolfsbane Potion have been confirmed. Judging from Professor Lupin's physical and mental condition after taking the medicine, the increased concentration of Leopard-skin flower concentrate is, in some ways, more effective than Rafflesia.

The control experiment isn't finished yet; this month it's time for the Corpse-stinking Lily.

Loren prayed for Professor Lupin and knocked on the office door.

Snape sat behind his desk as usual, working with the journal in front of him that recorded his observations of the African continent. He held a quill pen in his right hand, the tip of which was suspended about half an inch from the paper.

He seemed to be hesitating about how to begin writing.

Seeing Loren enter, Snape casually stuck the quill into the inkwell, nodded slightly, and his eyes flickered with a changing light.

"Professor, here are some records of Professor Lupin after taking the medicine..." Loren took out a parchment form with crooked handwriting, which looked like Lupin had painstakingly carved it out with his Werewolf claws, and some parts were even punctured.

While Snape was looking at the reports, Loren explained, "In terms of effectiveness, the higher concentration of Leopard-skin flower extract is much more effective than that of Rafflesia. According to Professor Lupin's description, the effective time of maintaining consciousness is also longer. He was very energetic until noon on the second day after the transformation, and he couldn't sleep even if he wanted to."

"...So, I think we can appropriately reduce the concentration, or reduce the amount of concentrate added." Loren glanced at Snape furtively.

Snape frowned as he read the crooked handwriting, and the thought that Lupin had scratched it with his wolf claws made him even more disgusted. But in order to improve the Wolfsbane Potion, he still patiently read it to the end.

Snape placed the report on the table, his brow furrowed. After a moment's thought, he asked slowly, "If we want to extend the duration of the Wolfsbane Potion's effectiveness, what are your ideas for improvement?"

"Extend the duration of the drug's effect..." Loren murmured, repeating it over and over, and slowly nodded his head.

The current Leopard-skin flower modified Wolfsbane Potion has an effect duration that is already enough to keep Professor Lupin awake until noon the next day. Snape certainly didn't mean to make the Wolfsbane Potion into a brain-stimulating agent that would keep Lupin awake and cause him to die suddenly.

"Professor, do you mean... one dose of the medicine will last for several months?" Loren asked tentatively.

"Hmm," Snape forced out an impatient nasal sound.

Loren slowly frowned, following this line of thought, and fell into deep thought.

When he was improving the Wolfsbane Potion based on several types of stinking flowers, he carefully studied the Wolfsbane Potion. The mechanism of action of the Wolfsbane Potion is very complex, with many pathways of action. These pathways are not isolated, but work together in combination.

Werewolf must drink Potions a week before the full moon. During this week, the active ingredients and Magic Power of the Potions will flow through their bloodstream and enter a dormant state.

One way this works is by using the Full Moon's Magic Power to induce the Werewolf's transformation while simultaneously activating the Wolfsbane Potion, awakening its dormant Magic Power. This Magic Power keeps the Werewolf from being captured by its wild instincts and becoming a prisoner of flesh and blood, thus maintaining Werewolf clarity and rationality.

But this Magic Power forcibly maintains sanity, which is why Professor Lupin, even after transforming back into human form, still had to wait until noon the next day to fall asleep.

"Forcibly increasing the dosage and prolonging the drug's effect... will only cause the Werewolf to lose sleep, leading to anything from mild madness to severe..."

Loren paused for a moment, then shook his head slightly. "Professor, I can't think of a solution right now."

"You're still too young, and you lack experience in Potions development..." Snape said calmly, his tone very composed. It was clear that this was just an objective reminder, not a reprimand.

Snape's fingers tapped unconsciously on the report, the rough texture of the torn paper sending a shiver through his fingers. He then moved away with disdain towards the journal. He glanced at Loren, carefully choosing his words:

"In primitive Africa, the relationship between wizards and Muggle is different from ours. Some wizards are revered as... well, elders, priests, shamans, or something else... although they abide by the rules of the International Confederation of Wizards and generally do not reveal the existence of the Wizarding World to Muggle."

"But wealthy Muggle nations occasionally send aid to primitive tribes. I've seen a Muggle -like pill in those tribes that can't be broken, chewed, or ground into powder." Snape guided Loren's thinking with his limited, now-forgotten Muggle knowledge, "because the actual potion that works is too strong; it must—"

"Sustained-release medication!"

Loren's eyes lit up, and he called out the type of drug.

Sustained-release drugs are formulations that release the drug slowly in the patient's body after oral administration. Compared with conventional formulations, they require less frequent administration, which can increase patient compliance or reduce drug side effects.

"Professor, what do you want to do?"

"This is the project I plan to conduct at the Potions Club. You continue with the previous experiments." Snape glanced at him, his expression indifferent.

"Okay," Loren replied obediently, silently praying for Professor Lupin once again.

"..."

Snape handed him the materials related to the Corpse-stinking Lily this month, and casually mentioned that invitations to the Potions Club would be sent out soon, with more lenient requirements this time. "We need to recruit both first-year and second-year students, plus any extra students from other years. First, find some Rue and Flowing Liquid Flower for the new members to process, then start brewing low-level Potions in batches... older members will participate in the research projects..."

Loren nodded, understanding; mass-producing labor.

It seems the school's business is very large and it's still expanding.

On his way back to his dormitory, Loren was met with a fierce wind. The air currents swept through the corridors and staircases, howling wildly throughout the Castle, their sharp whistling echoing incessantly.

Even if he were to encounter a Banshee around the corner, Loren wouldn't be surprised; the sound was simply too loud.

After saying goodnight to the Fat Lady, Loren slipped into the Common Room and found Hermione snuggled up to the fireplace. He grinned and sat down next to her, peering curiously at her Ancient Rune homework.

Hermione, holding her newly bought quill pen, was translating a Runes poem in neat handwriting.

Good evening, Hermione.

"..." Hermione paused, leaving a dot of ink on the parchment. After a brief silence, Hermione replied, "Good evening."

What are you doing?

"Do your homework."

What homework is it?

"..."

"You don't want to talk to me. You're so cold, colder than the wind outside."

"..." Hermione pursed her lips helplessly, "Runes."

"What kind of homework Runes doing?"

Hermione put the quill into the inkwell, then turned and stared intently at Loren: "Translate a short poem."

"Oh." Loren nodded.

After a few seconds, Hermione was still looking at him. Loren blinked and asked innocently, "Is there anything you want to ask me?"

Hermione took a deep breath, gripped the quill pen again, and prepared to continue her work.

As expected, Loren asked again, "What poems are you translating?"

"..."

Hermione gritted her teeth, ignoring him and trying to ignore this stumbling block to her studies, while focusing her mind on the poems.

"Winifred's Maxim?" Loren peered at her work, pointing at her translation. "The lazy man ruins nine times because of his procrastination, nine successful undertakings... The number nine here is figurative; it should be translated as the lazy man each time... any successful undertaking."

Hermione paused, then started a new line and revised it according to Loren's translation.

"Oh, I think I'm wrong. It does seem to be the number nine."

Hermione gritted her teeth, unable to hold back any longer, and put down her quill, glaring at him angrily.

Loren blinked, looking innocent. "Did I do something wrong?"

"What did you do wrong?" Hermione gasped angrily. "You were deliberately interfering with my homework!"

Loren tilted his head. "I thought I was helping you."

"..."

"You were like this in first grade, weren't you?"

"..."

Hermione, defeated in the verbal battle, angrily threatened, "If you say another word before I finish this assignment, I'll kill you and me."

"Okay." Loren responded, obediently sitting down beside her and quietly watching her do her homework.

He soon got bored and quietly slipped away to a corner to join the other young wizards in the Quidditch game.

The young wizards formed a circle, with a group of Quidditch players inside and a circle of self-proclaimed future Quidditch players outside.

Ron gestured for Loren to sit down next to him.

"Those despicable Slytherin! They changed their opponent at the last minute!" Wood cursed angrily. "Just because it's definitely going to rain tomorrow, and they haven't practiced in heavy rain, Flint made an excuse that some players have colds, and we're going to play Hufflepuff!"

Fred asked in disbelief, "How could Hufflepuff agree to that?"

"Cedric has taken over as captain. He's a gentleman and a good man. Flint took advantage of that!" Wood said angrily through gritted teeth.

Angelina, Alicia, and Katie suddenly giggled. Angelina said, "That tall, handsome guy, right? He's quiet and very gentlemanly."

Fred chuckled and said, "He doesn't like to talk because he's too slow; he can't string words together into sentences."

Lee Jordan in the back row chimed in, "You're right, but it would be better if you could say that to his face tomorrow."

A group of young wizards burst into cheerful laughter. Many of them knew that Cedric was a top student in Hufflepuff, excelling in Dueling Club... It was hard to say exactly how strong he was, but he was certainly stronger Fred.

Fred wasn't annoyed at all, and continued to make threats with a laugh, causing chaos at the scene.

"Quiet! We're discussing tactics!" Wood shouted, his brow furrowed.

"Don't worry about Oliver, you're too nervous. Cedric just became captain, he's definitely not as good as you," George said.

Fred nodded repeatedly. "And we have the Three Broomsticks that are better than his, a Firebolt, and the invincible Harry!"

Harry smiled shyly, but nodded firmly to Wood, encouraging the soon-to-graduate captain.

Wood looked at his teammates and recalled the early days of the team, when Harry hadn't even enrolled yet, Gryffindor had been overshadowed by Slytherin for years...

That was two years ago. Now, Gryffindor has nothing to fear.

Wood paused for a moment, then a smile returned to his face. He nodded firmly. "I understand. We will definitely win."

"..."

They were later discussing recruitment and selection, which was supposed to be held this Sunday, but due to the approaching storm and the terrible weather, it would be postponed.

Loren turned around and saw that Hermione had finished her homework and was tidying up her paper and pens, so he happily went over to her.

"It's the beginning of the month, shouldn't we write home?" Loren asked.

At a rate of one letter per month, it is indeed time to write home.

Hermione felt a little embarrassed thinking about the extra emotional advice emails she had sent out, and stammered a soft "hmm."

Should we send it back together or write it separately?

Hermione thought for a moment, worried that suggesting writing them separately would attract his attention. "Let's send them back together tomorrow, after watching the Quidditch Match, we'll stop by the Owlery."

"But it looks like it's going to rain tomorrow..." Loren muttered, "I don't want to go to Quidditch in the Quidditch— "

Just then, the noisy Common Room suddenly quieted down. Loren looked up and saw Professor McGonagall walk in with a serious expression.