The dungeon was always cold, the stone walls marked with dark yellow stains.
Shelves were filled with oddly shaped glass bottles, containing indescribable substances—some bubbling, some quietly settling.
Steam from the cauldrons hazed the entire classroom, making Professor Snape's face even more indistinct.
"We can do this, Sean!"
Justin whispered, giving both himself and Sean a little encouragement.
But Sean immediately noticed his slightly trembling hands.
He could understand; after all, last time they had brewed a pot of blue potion, and Professor Snape had scolded them harshly.
"Do you want me to help handle the ingredients?"
Justin asked, a bit nervously.
Sean shook his head gently:
"I'll finish quickly."
Justin didn't press further and instead focused more seriously on watching Sean handle the ingredients, ignite the cauldron, and control the heat…
Every movement was precise and fluid.
Compared to the other hesitant, worried young wizards around them, Sean's pace was at least three times faster.
Potions is a precise and exacting branch of magic.
A competent potion-maker must master a wide and complex body of knowledge, which is why Professor Snape is so strict. If young wizards fail to follow the precise steps of potion-making, what might happen to magical ingredients in a cauldron with white steam—only Merlin knows.
Thus, most young wizards follow the steps mechanically, and only once they gain proficiency does the magic of the potion gradually reveal itself.
Sean, however, had completely immersed his mind in this mysterious branch of magic.
Skillful ingredient handling, flawless heat control, appropriate stirring, strict boiling times…
The cauldron bubbled steadily, Justin carefully recorded every step, and acted as Sean's assistant,
handing him ingredients and keeping track of time.
While the other young wizards struggled with their materials, Sean and Justin had already added the final porcupine quills.
Professor Snape's sharp eyes immediately noticed this unusual progress, focusing on the cauldron; in an instant, he could predict the potion's outcome—acceptable, but nothing extraordinary.
He snorted coldly and looked away.
"It's time."
Sean's potion had reached its final, most critical stage.
In his mind, he didn't recall the centuries-old ritual, but the unrecognized innovations of Master Libatius Borage.
Sean recited the spell, and the ritual began; this was the first time he had truly used the improved ceremony.
His focus was sharper than ever, as if he were a potion-maker brewing tirelessly to cure scabies.
As this emotion naturally flowed, the potion itself underwent a fundamental change.
The once blue-green liquid thickened, and the jelly-like potion no longer contained any impurities.
[You have brewed a complete pot of scabies potion with experienced level Skill. Proficiency +10]
Justin's breath caught as he compared the potion with Professor Snape's example from memory—
There was barely any difference.
"Sean, did we succeed?"
He asked quietly, nervously.
"Yes."
A wave of deep fatigue hit, feeling like he hadn't slept for three days.
Master Libatius Borage had been truly meticulous.
"This is amazing! I knew we could do it!"
Justin let out a long breath. He carefully stored the potion in a crystal vial,
then stood tall, waiting for Professor Snape's inspection, completely different from the last time, when he had been trembling and pale.
Even the exhausted Sean found a smile creeping onto his face.
"You've finished?"
At that moment, Sean noticed Michael peeking around, and Terry, beside him, belatedly glanced over as well.
"Of course! Sean brewed a perfect—" Justin's words caught in his throat, because a shadow had fallen over them.
Professor Snape's tall frame blocked out the sunlight, and his cold, piercing gaze silenced all the young wizards nearby.
"Perfect—" He picked up the crystal vial, and the corner of his mouth briefly curved into a mocking smirk—then miraculously vanished.
He was nearly frozen in place.
If the scabies potion just now had been merely acceptable, this one had already reached the threshold of excellence.
A terrifying improvement… "Barely passing—"
Snape set the vial down, his voice sounding as if squeezed from his throat, "Add one point—each."
Then, with a sweep of his robe, he left.
"I didn't hear wrong, did I…" Michael's eyes went wide.
The circle of young wizards around them stared in disbelief.
"Awesome, Sean! We've earned back the points they took away."
Justin was visibly excited; it seemed he had been quite concerned about the lost points.
Sean just nodded, his gaze dropping to the panel:
[Scabies Potion: Locked (15/30)]
Halfway there. If he could maintain proficient brewing, two more attempts would unlock the potion-making title.
If Snape giving points to Ravenclaw was a small thing, then in Michael's retelling,
it turned into Snape giving Sean two hundred Galleons and even helping him cook two dishes.
The rumor persisted all the way to the afternoon History of Magic class.
History of Magic had almost become an unrestrained, gossip-filled, atmospheric lesson.
Though the young wizards didn't only talk about Sean, occasionally what reached his ears left him speechless.
"Single-handedly fought a mountain-dwelling giant and escaped unscathed, defeated a werewolf with bare hands—"
Even Michael, the rumor-spreader, froze upon hearing that line.
Do you guys even know what you're saying?
Then he leaned to one side,
"One mountain-dwelling giant? Make that three!"
He said it convincingly.
Justin, sitting next to Sean, turned red trying to hold back.
Sean sighed and returned to organizing his History of Magic notes.
He had completed the framework and filled in the necessary details, though it wasn't yet perfect.
Tuesday's History of Magic class had a slight adjustment; Hufflepuff attended with Ravenclaw, so Justin found it hard not to glance at Sean's notes, which had even been subdivided into secondary sections.
All characters and historical events were arranged along a timeline, and Sean had thoughtfully created another index,
categorizing different events and characters and linking them to page numbers.
For example, the "Collection of Oddities" Justin was reading included several oddities like Ulric and Wendelin.
Justin read eagerly; History of Magic no longer seemed boring, and he no longer worried about being confused by tangled events and characters.
Sometimes he even glanced at Sean's other notes—both being magizoologists—how did Ms. Elfrida Clagg and Mr. Newt Scamander's contributions differ?
How were these contributions layered to form the Ministry's new regulations?
Sean had organized it all in detail.
Justin naturally looked over, and before he realized it, he had read through all the history on magical creatures.
This efficient learning fascinated him completely.
Suddenly, he snapped out of his immersion, his breathing quickening, and whispered:
"Sean, I think this could totally be published. I've never seen History of Magic so interesting!"