There were no classes that afternoon.
Gerald went to the Great Hall for lunch, then returned to his dormitory for a few books, planning to head to the library and keep working through chapter four of Advanced Alchemy.
As he walked along the Third Floor Corridor, he spotted Percy Weasley in the distance.
Percy was coming from the direction of Gryffindor Tower, carrying a thick stack of parchment, his expression as solemn as if he were about to sit an important exam.
Something stirred in the pocket of his school robes. A gray rat poked its head out, sniffed the air, then ducked back inside.
Grayish-brown, with a short tail and a missing toe.
Gerald's gaze lingered on the rat for a moment before he casually looked away and kept walking.
Percy passed him, the corners of his parchment brushing Gerald's sleeve.
He heard Percy mutter a quiet "Sorry," and his footsteps gradually faded away.
Gerald stood where he was without looking back.
He knew the rat was now sitting quietly in Percy's pocket, like a lie waiting to be exposed.
But he also knew it wasn't time yet.
Gerald continued toward the library.
There weren't many people in the library.
Gerald took out Advanced Alchemy and opened it to chapter four, which covered the energy transmission efficiency of runic arrays.
"The gap between theoretical maximum efficiency and actual efficiency often lies not in the precision of the runes themselves, but in the way the runes are connected."
Gerald circled the passage and wrote a note in the margin.
"This is similar to the principles of series and parallel circuits."
After reading for an hour, he closed the book and rubbed his eyes.
His gaze drifted absently over the shelves, and a thick, old book caught his attention.
The lettering on its spine had faded, but there was a symbol he recognized in the corner of its cover. He had seen it in Introduction to Alchemy.
It was the emblem of the Alchemists' Council.
Gerald pulled the book from the shelf. It was much heavier than he had expected, and its pages had begun to yellow.
Even the title had become illegible.
He opened it to the first page and found a handwritten line.
"The ultimate goal of alchemy is not to turn stone into gold, but to understand the language of creation."
Gerald stared at that line for a long time.
Because he had noticed a tiny name beneath it, to the right.
Braid Green.
Green?
Gerald closed the book and tapped its rough leather cover twice with his fingertips, quickly recalling what the original story had said about the lineages of pure-blood families.
If you traced magical talent far enough back, you could always find its origin in some pure-blood family.
In a sense, it came entirely from the bloodline, something you were born with.
Even Hermione, who was Muggle-born, must have had a wizard ancestor if you went back enough generations.
So Gerald's magical talent couldn't have appeared out of thin air.
Could this Braid Green be my ancestor?
Gerald thought it was quite possible. To test his theory, he got up and made a circuit of the general reading section.
He found Modern History of Magic, Hogwarts, A History, and several books on the history of British Wizarding Families, and began leafing through them.
At last, in an obscure little book called The Origin of Wizards, he found an entry about the Green family.
"The Green family was a medieval pure-blood wizarding family renowned for alchemy. Its founder, Gawain Green, lived from 1342 to 1419. The family gradually declined in the early eighteenth century. Its last known member, Braid Green, died in 1798. No descendants of the final generation could be documented, and the family bloodline came to an end."
Renowned for alchemy. A bloodline that had died out.
Gerald closed the book and quietly pondered this.
Over the past few days, he had already checked student records from decades ago without finding his father Victor Green's name.
In other words, his father had at least never been a Hogwarts student.
Most likely, he hadn't possessed any magical talent either.
All right, then. It looks like the Green family's talent for alchemy, dormant for nearly two hundred years, has awakened in my bloodline.
No wonder he had picked up alchemy so quickly that even Fred and George found it absurd.
He had always thought "talent" was a rather nebulous concept, but now it seemed there really was something to this bloodline business.
Unfortunately, the family's alchemical manuscripts, writings, and experimental records had probably all been lost.
He decided that, if he ever had the chance, he would try to collect whatever alchemical manuscripts the Green family had left behind. If nothing else, he could see what his ancestors had worked on back then. Perhaps they might even give him some ideas for his own alchemy.
And now I have spiritual awareness, too. I can perceive even the smallest details. The boost this gives me in potions and alchemy is enormous.
Perhaps I'll really be able to make some incredible alchemical items in the future. And if I combine that with the artifact refining methods used in immortal cultivation...
Gerald felt that a path to invincibility was slowly unfolding before him.
"Phew, it's finally my turn this time!"
Gerald looked through a few more books, but very few mentioned the Green family, and even those offered only scattered snippets.
His interest fading, Gerald put the books away and left the library, heading straight for the Forbidden Forest.
The Foundation-Stabilizing Liquid made from Ironwire Vine was almost sold out.
If sales went well on Aberforth's end, he would want more next time.
The Ironwire Vines in the greenhouse were growing well, but there were only a dozen or so plants. Each vine could only have a few leaves picked at a time; he couldn't pull them up by the roots.
There was only one Heaven-Subduing Flower, which had produced two buds. After he picked the first bloom, the second still hadn't fully opened.
That yield wasn't even enough for his own use.
He needed to gather another batch from the Forbidden Forest.
Besides, he also wanted to try his luck again and see whether he could find any spirit herbs or spirit plants of the second tier or higher.
It was a rare fine day. Bright sunshine bathed the grounds outside the castle, and the mid-November weather was neither too cold nor too warm.
Gerald descended the steps and followed the path along the edge of the lawn toward Hagrid's Hut.
Although he already had Dumbledore's tacit approval, Gerald still made a habit of checking in with Hagrid before entering the Forbidden Forest.
Not
that he necessarily needed Hagrid to accompany him, but it was always good to let him know he had gone in.
Of course, the enthusiastic Hagrid chose to accompany Gerald every time.
When he reached the hut, the door was closed.
Gerald knocked a few times, but no one answered.
Looks like he's gone out.
Gerald waited outside the hut for a few minutes, but Hagrid didn't return.
After a moment's thought, he turned and headed toward the Forbidden Forest.
Aragog the Acromantula lived deep in the Forbidden Forest. As long as he didn't venture that far in, there probably wouldn't be much trouble.
The forest was so quiet that afternoon that only the wind could be heard.
Sunlight filtered through the canopy, casting dappled patches of light on the dirt path, while the occasional dead leaf drifted down from overhead.
Gerald followed the route Hagrid had taken him along last time, walking deeper into the Forbidden Forest alone. He held his wand in his right hand, while a fireball hovered above his left palm, ready to unleash.
After walking a little farther, he tried activating the Qi-Perception Spell.
But the next second, he froze.
Several spots within his field of vision lit up with a blue-green glow, standing out sharply in the Forbidden Forest.
With a closer look, Gerald realized they were Ironwire Vines.
"Holy shit, a highlighting cheat!"
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