Secretly Brewing Potions

Potion brewing always took a long time. Some special potions, like Liquid Luck, were said to take half a year to brew.

Taking this into account, Sean scheduled his plan for after the first Transfiguration Class in the afternoon.

He prepared five sets of ingredients and brought along his Crystal Bottles.

They were expensive containers, each packaged in a small box.

Since they had cost a full seven Gold Galleons,

the owner of Slug & Jiggers had thoughtfully provided a little box for every Crystal Bottle.

The old wizard with the long beard at the shop had said that this set of Crystal Bottles was twice as effective as ordinary Glass Bottles for storing potions.

Sean guessed he had been lying.

The books said that as long as potions were stored properly, they would not spoil even if left out in the open.

Ancient Wizards had even stored potions in kettles. Back then, potion-makers were fond of a game where they poured different liquids from the same kettle.

It often left Muggle nobles chattering in amazement.

In truth, the potions had merely deteriorated under certain conditions, such as exposure to light.

As for whether spoiled potions would cause trouble,

all he had to do was see whether a wanted poster appeared at the castle gates tomorrow.

That afternoon,

a pure white Owl swept over Sean's head.

Sean heard its whimpering hoot.

When he stepped out of the castle, the sunlight was pleasantly warm, as though it meant to soak through every Young Wizard.

Sean had never seen such a brilliant summer. Hogwarts and the fields had both been brushed with a layer of golden paint.

The island was like an Oil Painting, dotted with a golden castle.

If Snape's classroom were not in the Dungeon, Sean would have been in an even better mood.

That afternoon, he felt like an adventurer stealing treasure, brewing a potion treasure beneath Professor Snape's watchful eye.

With countless thoughts swirling through his mind, Sean walked down a lush green stone path and pushed open the oak doors of the Greenhouse.

He had promised to help the professor collect Bubble Pods and transplant Bouncing Bulbs into Greenhouse One.

Greenhouse One was filled with the rich scent of fertile soil.

Fine droplets of water condensed on the glass ceiling, gathering into thin streams that wound their way downward.

Professor Sprout was not alone today. Somehow, a group of Young Wizards had gathered around her—

round-faced Neville, Ernie carefully watering the plants, and a short, chubby boy Sean did not recognize.

Professor Sprout stood beside a wooden crate piled high with fresh manure. Her grayish-brown hair was tied into a tight little bun at the back of her head.

Beneath her thick, heavily patched hat, bright eyes swept sharply over her students.

Soon, Professor Sprout patted her dirt-stained gloves and walked toward Sean.

"Oh, at this time every year, new shoots always sprout in the Greenhouses. It really is something to look forward to..."

She opened the door to Greenhouse One.

"Come along, Mr. Green. We'll bring over the Bouncing Bulbs. Those dear little troublemakers are probably tired of waiting already."

Whenever the professor spoke, her hat always bobbed along in harmony.

But not today. Sean stared at the black part of her hat.

Suddenly, he thought of Professor Snape's gloomy black Eyes.

Secretly brewing potions shouldn't violate school rules, right?

Sean thought.

By the time he came back to himself, he was already looking into a pair of warm, steady Eyes.

"My dear Mr. Green, how unusual. Have you been daydreaming?"

Though she asked this, there was not the slightest trace of doubt in Professor Sprout's eyes.

"The timing is just right. Come, dear Mr. Green. Something interesting is waiting for you."

Professor Sprout warmly led Sean toward another domed building.

She did not respond to Sean's questioning look.

They stopped before the domed building with a wooden sign that read "Greenhouse Three."

Sean had never been inside—Michael had said that the plants in Greenhouse Three were more interesting, and more dangerous.

Professor Sprout took a large key from her belt and unlocked the door.

The damp smell of fertilizer rushed at them. A thorny green plant stretched out its tendrils.

Beside it, several green, bean-like fruits hopped about within the fence.

Sean recognized them as Bouncing Bulbs, but something was strange. Why were they surrounded by Venomous Tentacula?

And why had these territorial magical plants not attacked them?

As Sean watched, Professor Sprout's booming, cheerful voice rose, drowning out the rustling sounds in the Greenhouse.

"Oh, Mr. Green, let me tell you a story:

Bouncing Bulb seeds need to grow in dark, damp places.

And those just happen to be where Venomous Tentacula gather.

About one-third of the Bouncing Bulbs in the Greenhouse grow alongside Venomous Tentacula.

Venomous Tentacula will not allow other plants to invade their territory.

Yet look—

the Bouncing Bulbs still thrive..."

After piquing Sean's curiosity, the plump professor continued in the deep tone of a storyteller.

"If you look carefully, you will see Venomous Geraniums rising beside them.

It is precisely the mutual deterrence between the two that gives Bouncing Bulb seeds the conditions to grow, break through the soil, and hop away.

Nature is always wondrous. Life will always find a way out."

She gently bent down.

Her eyes were filled with sincere, warm light.

"Bouncing Bulbs that stay away from here are always safe. But if they fear Venomous Tentacula and hide forever in dry, hot corners, letting their fruit wither away, dear, that is not the meaning of life."

Sean was somewhat shaken by the story of the Bouncing Bulbs. He looked at the professor, and the plump witch slowly nodded at him.

"You will succeed. Don't be afraid, little one."

...The professor knew what he was going to do.

By the time Sean left the Greenhouse, his heart was calm and steady, and the scent of soil clung to him.

Though he did not know how the professor had guessed,

since she had tacitly approved and encouraged him, that meant what he was doing could not violate school rules.

Even if it did, the consequences would not be severe.

Therefore,

after Transfiguration Class that afternoon,

amid Justin's, Champion's, and Hermione's puzzled looks, Sean disappeared around the end of the corridor.

The surroundings gradually turned cold and gloomy. Glass jars lined the walls, and the soaked animal specimens that made people shudder appeared before him once more.

Sean held his breath, hoping Professor Snape would not appear here.

In truth, all professors were busy, especially Professor Snape, the head of Slytherin.

After glancing into the classroom,

Sean let out a long sigh of relief, then quickly arranged the ingredients on the table and lit the Cauldron.

The faster he worked, the more attempts he would have.

Sean also set out his notebook and Quill of Acceptance.

Brewing data was crucial. Summarizing experience and constantly improving were the proper ways to learn.

A graceful plume of White Smoke rose from the Cauldron, and candlelight slowly reflected in Sean's emerald-green Eyes.