The Room of Requirement, Hogwarts.
Harry consulted his notes, added two drams of Wiggentree bark to his cauldron, stirred five times clockwise, then twice counter-clockwise. He carefully observed the color of the potion before scribbling down some more observations on his parchment.
"Harry, you've been researching that potion for ages. Why not just ask Lucien?"
"Speaking of which, Lucien won't be back for another ten days or so, right?"
Ron asked the question while poking and prodding at a metal owl with his wand.
The wand in his hand was new, bought by the twins over the winter holidays—fourteen inches, willow, with a unicorn hair core.
It felt incredibly natural in his hand. Casting magic no longer felt awkward or blocked. Only now did Ron realize just how hard he'd had it before with his old, broken hand-me-downs.
Hearing Ron's question, Harry rubbed his messy black hair and mumbled, "I want to try finishing it independently. It's a challenge, isn't it?"
The potion he was researching was the one he had promised Hermione—something to shrink and adjust teeth. However, they had agreed not to tell Lucien just yet, so Harry had to keep his head down and work on it alone.
Fortunately, after more than a year and a half of tutoring from Lucien, Harry's potion-making skills had improved steadily. Between browsing the library and consulting the Potter family grimoires, his progress was actually quite impressive.
Besides, this potion wasn't overly difficult. Harry wasn't skilled enough yet to invent a brand-new potion from scratch; he was mainly modifying an existing formula.
As for his reply to Ron, it was the truth. After spending nearly two years around Lucien, Harry had been influenced by him. He was starting to vaguely understand the "joy" of improving through research and learning through exploration.
So, Harry really did want to use this opportunity to test his own level in Potions.
Ron continued tinkering with his metal owl, not even looking up as he said, "I get it, I get it. Good luck."
In a way, Ron was doing something similar. The owl in his hands was his own design and build. It was quite difficult, and currently, it couldn't actually function like a real owl.
Last Christmas, Ron had encountered a seemingly ordinary but magical owl that had given him and Harry a crucial clue when they were agonizing over Nicolas Flamel.
Afterward, Ron had specifically gone to the school Owlery multiple times to try and find that owl. Unfortunately, after several days of searching yielded nothing, he eventually gave up.
However, when he decided to craft a simple alchemical animal, his first thought was of that owl, so he modeled his project after it.
The two of them busied themselves with their respective tasks as time flew by.
Harry bottled the cooled potion, set it on the edge of the table, and began packing up his cauldron and scales.
Ron stretched lazily and leaned over to Harry.
"So? Have you tested it on a toad yet? How's the effect?"
Harry gave Ron a helpless look. "Ron, you do realize toads don't have teeth, right?"
Ron blinked. "Er... right. Forgot about that. Brain's a bit fried. Want me to test it for you?"
"I'm used to testing Fred and George's new prank items anyway. Ugh, what was that word Lucien used to describe it..."
Ever since the twins started managing "Workshop Seven" at Hogwarts for Lucien—selling a wide variety of magical items—they had earned money and gained knowledge, turning many ideas that previously stopped at the concept stage into reality.
The twins were churning out prank potions and alchemical props endlessly, and the best "guinea pig" for their new products was naturally their own brother—Ron.
Fortunately, to keep Ron from writing home to complain to their mother, the twins offered him some Knuts and Sickles as pocket money, or rather, "experimental hazard pay."
To this, Ron's reaction was naturally...
To accept it gladly.
He had been pranked by his twin brothers his whole life anyway. Fred, for instance, had once turned Ron's teddy bear into a giant spider—he was holding it when it suddenly sprouted far too many long legs.
Now that there was pocket money involved, why not? One had to look on the bright side of life.
Harry thought for a moment, then hesitated before offering the word:
"Tolerance?"