Chapter 157. The Greatest Potions Master of This Century!
Inside the suitcase, on the grassland where the Erumpents roosted, just below where the many animal balloons drifted.
Severus Snape stood tall on the crest of a gentle slope, tilting his head back to watch the balloons that had just skimmed over him.
At his feet sat a brand-new iron bucket, some twenty to thirty centimetres high, half-filled with a clear liquid tinged faintly green.
It was a medicinal draught Snape had prepared by mixing water with a potion he had brewed, in a set proportion to create a treatment.
"Professor, are you ready?" Duncan shouted up from the foot of the slope, wand held high and voice raised.
"Begin," rasped Snape, and, for fear Duncan might not hear, he repeated himself using the Amplifying Charm.
"Right!" Duncan traced a not-so-perfect circle with his raised wand.
The grass blades on the ground shot skyward like fired arrows—whoosh, whoosh—stretching out into a veil of emerald-green gauze.
The animal balloons struck by the grass began to make a psss-psss deflating noise and, like jet planes, they whooshed through the air, careening wildly.
A few seconds later, the psss-psss stopped, the animals all returned to their original shapes, and then, one after another, came thundering down onto the grass with a rumble—rumble.
Their eyes glowed scarlet as savage roars burst forth, and they swung their heads about, hunting for something on which to vent their rage.
At the sight of so many magical animals, Snape could not help but feel a twinge of unease, raising his wand to guard his chest.
A massive dragon rudely shouldered aside the beasts blocking its path, bellowed, and thundered up the slope toward Snape.
Just as it was about to close in, a cheerful whistle sounded, the blood-red light faded from the dragon's eyes, and its stride gradually slowed.
It halted two steps in front of Snape, parted its jaws, swallowed down the roar about to burst out, and looked around in confusion.
Then it called out in a loud voice, "Duncan, my friend, it doesn't seem to be mealtime yet, does it? Why did you let us down early?"
After several days of routine, the animals had almost grown used to it.
Regain their senses and eat quickly; then, once they turned violent again, become balloons to hang in the sky—orderly and neat.
"Wait a moment," Duncan answered offhandedly, then shouted to Snape,
"Professor, that's it. They can only stay clear-headed for five minutes. Mind the time."
Snape glanced at the sturdy dragon that had stopped moving and let out a breath.
Under ordinary circumstances, faced with this situation, he might not even have frowned.
But he had not properly rested in days; never mind fighting a dragon—he felt light-headed even walking.
Even if he forced himself to subdue the dragon, he would certainly look a fright, and that Scamander boy down the slope would have a laugh at his expense.
He took a moment to compose himself, then used the Amplifying Charm to call, "That's sufficient. Have them all come here together!"
"Got it, Professor—careful now!" Duncan called a reminder, then sent the command to all the animals.
They stopped peering about, turned, and ran swiftly in pairs and trios toward where Snape stood.
Snape's expression grew solemn.
He tapped the iron bucket with his wand, then pointed it at the oncoming animals and spoke an incantation.
The liquid in the bucket surged forth in an endless stream, soared into the air, and split again into strands of varying thickness.
According to each creature's size, those strands stretched out into the mouths of the running animals.
And the bucket seemed to hold an entire lake; the draught kept flowing, as if without end.
Only after every animal was filled did Snape sweep his wand to stop it, leaving just a thin layer of liquid on the bottom of the bucket.
"That will do. Have them keep as still as possible, and in five minutes we'll see the effect—see if we can restore them to normal."
Snape paused after he spoke, then added, in a slightly lower voice:
"You be ready as well. If it doesn't work, turn them back into balloons again at once."
"Don't worry, Professor. I'm very experienced with this!" Duncan answered confidently.
After days of twice-daily drills, he had become a heartless quick-draw machine.
Snape dipped his chin in the barest of nods and said nothing, his eyes fixed on the animals, a trace of impatience flickering there.
Duncan thought for a moment, then took out a silver pocket watch engraved with a dragon motif, holding it suspended in the air with the Levitation Charm.
In an instant, silence blanketed the open field.
Only the tick-tock of the hands and the sighing wind lingered in Duncan's ears.
He and Snape stood stock-still, eyes set on the creatures ahead, waiting for the verdict five minutes would bring.
Time trickled by with Duncan's every breath, and at last the hands made their hard-won final step.
The pocket watch quivered in the air.
"Professor, five minutes are up. They haven't gone mad. You did it!"
"You're amazing—solving the problem in so little time!"
"You're simply the greatest Potions Master of this century!"
"Even Merlin, in the field of Potions, wouldn't measure up to a single finger of yours!"
Duncan stuffed the pocket watch back into his pocket with a flourish, leapt high with excitement, and laid it on thick, praising Snape to the skies.
These past few days he had watched the animals suffer and had been powerless to help—left only to fret.
Now that Snape's potion was a success and their ordeal was at an end, Duncan had no qualms about lavishing him with a few more compliments.
The corners of Snape's mouth twitched upward.
He clenched a fist and gave a quick, restrained pump, an appreciative smile flickering across his face.
But as Duncan's eyes swung his way, he swiftly schooled his features, set his face like stone, and stared straight ahead.
"As for you—come with me. They'll need to drink this potion every day from now on, and you'll be the one brewing it."
"My time is valuable, and spending it on such simple, repetitive tasks would be a heartbreaking waste."
Snape's thin lips curled as he spoke.
Pleased by Duncan's earlier flattery, he was ready to teach him something about Potions you couldn't learn from books.
"Understood, Professor!" Duncan shot to Snape's side at once, not wasting a single moment.
A one-to-one masterclass from Potions-maestro Snape was not something money could buy!
But just as they were about to step off the grassland, a violent dragon's roar suddenly rang out behind them.
At the same time, Kray flashed in from not far away like lightning, crying anxiously, "Duncan, Gillian has gone berserk again!"
Gillian was the other, female Thunderbird.
Seeing her restored to normal, Kray had meant to go over and show some gallantry.
But no sooner had he flown up than Gillian's eyes turned red again, and she launched a fierce pecking assault on him.
"It seems those few cases are more severe," Snape murmured, brow furrowing.
Duncan ran over, used the bubble gun to turn those few animals back into balloons, and asked, "Professor, what do we do now?"
"No problem," Snape said coolly. "Increase the dose!"
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