The order from two years ago finally arrived

On the first Wednesday of September, autumn arrived earlier than usual in the Scottish Highlands.

The Pumpkin Juice in Hogwarts' Great Hall has been replaced with hot cider, the surface of the Black Lake has changed from azure to grayish-blue, and the Beech leaves on the edge of the Forbidden Forest have begun to turn yellow.

The Castle was breezy, and the young Wizards had changed from wearing their school robes alone to wearing them with sweaters. Several of the younger students, whose families lived in the south, had already put on scarves.

The Corridor remained the same as before, torches burned on the stone walls, the Portrait dozed off or visited each other, and the staircases turned and swayed as they should.

The first Potions Class of third grade was attended by Slytherin and Gryffindor together.

The air in the classroom still smelled of herbs mixed with the soot from the dry pot. The crucibles were lined up on the long table, their bronze surfaces polished to a shine, and the day's materials were placed next to each crucible.

Dried Nettles, Ephedra Juice, moonstone powder, Shrinking Fig, cutting board, silver knife, stirring stick.

The door on the side of the podium was closed, with a frosted glass panel embedded in it, through which the office lights could be seen.

Avery was in a good spot at the front, nudging Alex with his elbow. Hermes and Regulus sat in a row, their heads pressed against the corner of the stone wall, their eyelids drooping.

The side door creaked open from the inside, revealing Slughorn's belly first, followed by his round face.

He was wearing a deep burgundy velvet vest, the buttons were pulled tight, and a dark green bow tie was tied at the collar.

He walked in with a grin, raised his hand and waved, wiping away the remaining writing from the previous lesson on the blackboard behind the podium.

"Good morning, good morning," the professor's voice rang out from the doorway all the way to the podium, warm and loud. "How was your holiday? Did anyone manage to go through the new textbooks in those two months?"

A few scattered responses came from below.

"--Oh? Flora, you went to France? Nice or Paris?"

A Slytherin girl replied in a reserved tone, "Nice, Professor, I bought a batch of Armadillo Bile from Africa at a Potions in Nice. The quality is better than that from Diagon Alley."

"Armadillo Bile," Slughorn's eyes lit up, and he clapped his hands. "Africa stuff, good, good."

The active ingredients in Armadillo Bile vary greatly depending on its origin. Nigeria bile is more acidic, while Tanzania bile is more alkaline. If you're using it to make anti-swelling medication, Tanzania is better.

I know that shop in Nice. The owner's name is Dubois. He has an incredibly sensitive nose; he can tell whether bile has been diluted with water just by smelling it.

A Gryffindor boy raised his hand. "Professor, I tried making an Draught of Living Death at home, following the steps in the textbook, but the color turned out pale yellow. The textbook says it should be pale purple. Where did I go wrong?"

Slughorn chuckled, "Pale yellow? Did you rush to add Moonstone Powder while you were cooking it?"

"Yes, I'm afraid it won't be enough time."

"The Moonstone Powder should be added after the medicine turns dark red. If added too early, it will combine with the reaction products of the Lovage, making the color more yellowish."

"Alright," Slughorn clapped his hands, "Today's lesson is on Shrinking Solution, one of the more interesting ones in the third-year curriculum. Its function is to shrink the size of living things."

First, let me ask a question: what is the most crucial step in determining whether Shrinking Solution is up to standard?

A hand went up from the Slytherin side; it was Lina. She stood up and said clearly, "The fig must be added after the leech juice has completely dissolved. Adding it too early or too late will cause the shrinking effect of the potion to be unstable."

Slughorn's eyes narrowed to slits. "Miss Costa is right, two points added."

Then he looked towards Gryffindor, where Mary MacDonald had her hand raised. "Professor, I have a question. If the Shrinking Solution is used on plants, will the effect be different?"

For example, if you shrink a tree, are its roots, leaves, and internal fibrous structure scaled down proportionally, or rearranged according to some kind of pattern?

"Good question, Miss MacDonald, two points for Gryffindor," Slughorn said approvingly. "The Shrinking Solution works differently on plants than on animals. The Plant Magic Power is more like a net. During the shrinking process, the arrangement of the fibers is compressed, but not proportionally. The specific ratio depends on the Magic Power density of the plant itself."

We'll cover this in fourth grade, and you can ask again then.

"The difficulty of this lesson lies in controlling the heat," he turned around, tapping the blackboard with his wand, where rounded characters appeared. "Controlling the heat is the core of this lesson. If you want to get an O on this potion, you'd better master controlling the heat first."

Let's begin. Add the ingredients in order, keeping the heat on medium-low. Add the sliced figs last, and stir three times clockwise after adding all the figs. Make sure there's no more or less than desired.

The classroom was filled with the soft sounds of crucibles clattering and materials falling into the water.

Regulus followed the steps exactly: slicing where needed, peeling where needed, stirring where needed, instead of using his own method.

The liquid slowly changed color in the pot, from transparent to light green, then to dark green, and finally to dark purple, maintaining a uniform simmer throughout, with bubbles rising from the bottom of the pot at a consistent speed.

Finally, add the sliced, Shrinking Fig and stir clockwise three times. The liquid will change from dark purple to light yellow, with a thin layer of Silver Light sheen on the surface. It will be thick, have a good color, and a pure aroma.

Slughorn strolled over from the podium, paused in front of Regulus's crucible, and glanced down at the finished product.

"Mr. Black's pot has the perfect color and consistency; the heat control is excellent. Others can use this as a benchmark."

After saying that, he nodded and left, without giving any extra points.

"Mr. Cuthbert, your pot is smoking black smoke. Did you throw in figs, skin and all?"

Okay, put out the fire, let's try again.

The Dismissal Bell, and most of the classroom's students had their crucibles filled with liquids of various colors: deep purple, light green, yellowish-brown, yellowish-pink, and one was black.

The students packed up and left. Avery poured the waste liquid from the dry pot into the recycling bin, Alex gathered the leftover materials together, Hermes was the first to rush out of the classroom, without even taking his schoolbag.

Slughorn emerged from behind the podium, hands behind his back, smiling broadly, "Mr. Black, could you wait a moment?"

The others walked past Regulus without looking at him, without waiting for him, not even Lina turned around.

In the past, when the professor kept them behind, these guys would stand at the door for a while, peeking around, waiting for Regulus to come out before leaving together. Now, they don't even glance at him and just walk away.

The classroom door closed, and the footsteps in the Corridor outside faded into the distance.

Regulus packed his bag, stood up, and followed Slughorn into his office through the side door.

This is the most familiar professor's office in the entire Castle, with its sweet scent, warmth, and the woody aroma of dried herbs.

A velvet armchair sat behind the desk, on which sat a pot of freshly brewed tea and a dish of Candied Pineapple.

Slughorn greeted him, "Sit, sit, Regulus."

Regulus sat down opposite him.

Slughorn took two teacups from the cabinet by the fireplace, filled them with the teapot, pushed one towards Regulus, picked up the other, and slumped into the large armchair.

Just like every time he came before, but this time Slughorn didn't ramble on, didn't rush to speak, didn't boast about which old friend sent the tea, and didn't offer him Candied Fruit.

Regulus held the teacup with both hands and bowed slightly. "Professor, you summoned me here..."

Slughorn raised his hand, and Regulus shut his mouth.

The old man picked up his teacup, took a sip, put it down, ran his fingers along the rim of the cup, and his gaze lingered on Regulus's face for a moment.

Not long after, he bent down and pulled open the bottom drawer.

The drawer was lined with a layer of dark green velvet, and in the very center sat a palm-sized, dark-colored jar that looked like it was made of Obsidian.

The bag was sealed with a ring of dark gold wax, the surface of which was engraved with Rune, fine, regular, and intricate, spreading outwards from the center.

He placed the jar on the table and pushed it in front of Regulus, his movements casual, but his tone betrayed a hint of undisguised smugness.

"That thing you asked me in first grade, it's been two years, and I've almost figured it out."

Regulus looked down at the jar, his mind racing.

In first grade, what question did he ask about Potions?

I remember now, could the Potions applied to the body, the ritual totems, and the external materials be made using Potions to increase the strength and power of the body?

I had almost forgotten about it, but I didn't expect the old man to remember.

To be honest, I was a little touched.

So this was a free order placed two years ago, and it's been delivered now?

He reached out and took the jar, sincerely thanking the professor.

Slughorn smiled and waved his hand, tilting his chin forward to gesture for him to take a look.

Regulus lowered his head and examined it carefully; he had put a lot of effort into the jar itself.

The Rune on the sealing wax were glowing faintly, the light shining through the engravings, sometimes bright and sometimes dim.

The outside of the jar is also encased in Magic, which insulates, moisturizes, and isolates it from the external environment. Even the light is controlled by Stasis Charm that slowly flows across the surface of the jar.

He drew his wand, touched the rune with the Rune, and without chanting a spell, Magic Power seeped in, freezing the loop of the spell that maintained the seal on the wax.

The light from the Rune stopped at a dim, half-bright level, and the incantation on the surface of the jar also stopped.

He unscrewed the lid and peeked inside.

The ointment is dark gray, with a consistency that can be drawn into threads when scooped out with a silver spoon. It has no odor, a very even color, and a smooth surface.

Slughorn watched him unscrew the lid, a smirk playing on his lips, as he leaned forward, resting his stomach on the edge of the table.

"Can't you smell it?"

Regulus nodded.

"That's right. If you could even smell the ingredients, I wouldn't be making this."

Slughorn sat back down, took a piece of Candied Fruit from the plate, popped it into his mouth, chewed it a couple of times, and wiped his fingers with a handkerchief.

"Do you know how difficult this thing is?" His eyes narrowed, his tone brimming with barely concealed smugness. "I've flipped through countless books, asked countless people for help, and searched through countless materials—"

He counted on his fingers. "First, we found a record in a 17th-century Dutch notebook. That Dutchman had worked for the East India Company and spent a few years in Java with local shamans. The notebook mentioned an ointment that, when applied to the body, could withstand the bites of the poisonous spiders of Port Elizabeth and survive for three days."

He paused, saw that Regulus was listening attentively, and nodded with satisfaction.

"The notes only described how to use the ointment, but the recipe wasn't complete. I went through a bunch of books and found a passage in the appendix of ' Secret Potions '. It said that the Witch Doctor of Uagadou had a kind of topical medicine that used tree bark and animal fat as a base to draw patterns on the body."

After finishing the painting, one can endure the tribe's coming-of-age ceremony and run barefoot through thorny fields all day without getting blisters on the soles of their feet.

However, the recipes for these two things didn't match. I searched for another half month and found an Iceland manuscript that mentioned that wizards in the Northern Lands used Ice Crystal Flower and Dragon Blood to make an ointment for use when going out to sea in winter, but it had serious side effects, causing numbness in the fingers for three days after just one use.

Then I thought, could I combine these three things to create something that is effective, has no side effects, and can be stored stably?

He leaned back, resting his hands on his stomach, his round face full of smugness.

"I tried forty-seven kinds of materials, from Siberia Ice Crystal Flower Andes Mountains bark, from Indian Ocean Coral Powder to Deep-Sea Ore from the North Sea, trying them one by one."

It took me half a year to get my hands on some of the materials. The old man in Siberia who picked flowers was the uncle of one of my students. I had to write three letters before he agreed to pick them for me.

The experiment involved boiling about two hundred batches, taking a full year and a half.

He pointed to the jar on the table.

"This is the final product. The base is made from Dragon Blood and Troll Heart Powder. We tried dozens of different ratios."

Regulus glanced down at the jar of ointment again, then looked up at Slughorn, his tone sincere. "Professor, thank you. I'm serious; this wasn't easy to make."

It's not easy.

Slughorn reached out and took the jar. The lid snapped shut on itself, the Rune on the sealing wax lit up again, and the sustaining spells on the outside of the jar resumed functioning.

"But for me, it just took a little time."

He pushed the jar back and placed it in front of Regulus, his smile fading slightly, "There's a specific way to use this medicine; you absolutely mustn't try to do it yourself."