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Chapter 62: The Paired Ritual
🕑 Added 2025-10-31 02:07:14 +0000 UTCChapter 62: The Paired Ritual
Professor Snape departed as abruptly as he had appeared, leaving a bewildered Sean standing in the dungeon, clutching ten gold Galleons, acutely aware of the gossiping portraits watching him from the corridor above.
"Professor Snape just…" he murmured, utterly confused.
"Hahahaha! Young Green, surely you don't think that gloomy—ah, I mean, brave—fellow has finally lost his marbles?" Sir Cadogan, ever audacious, bellowed from his frame.
The surrounding portraits immediately erupted in renewed chatter. Sean silently walked a hundred paces down the corridor, the portraits noticeably quieting and even shrinking back as Professor Snape swept past again, his face darker than the storm clouds outside.
"Lady Violet," Sean asked the kindly woman in the white gown portrait, "Sir Cadogan will be alright, won't he?"
"Well, that depends on your definition of 'alright'," Lady Violet replied with a serene smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Being set on fire? Transferred to a portrait filled with trolls? Or perhaps…" She trailed off, letting the implication hang. "He'll survive, of course. As for anything beyond that…"
Sean offered a silent, three-second moment of sympathy for Sir Cadogan, then continued on his way. For the rest of the evening, the knight's dramatic howls echoed through the upper floors.
Back in the relative safety of the Ravenclaw common room, Sean pulled out the newest parchment scrap he'd retrieved from Snape. Reading it helped distract him from the seemingly endless climb up the tower stairs.
As I stated previously—truth is uncompromising. Those wizards destined to find it, invariably will.
As the modified ritual sharpens a wizard's perception, the truly talented will notice the subtle, beautiful changes within the potion.
Ignorant fools remain mired in rotten tradition, but true Potion Masters never cease their exploration.
Perhaps you wonder why these modified rituals are so few—
Curiosity piqued, Sean turned the scrap over, the climb suddenly feeling less arduous.
You must remember—Charms and Potions are linked by a fundamental thread. You should have sensed this when you began guiding the magic with your will.
As you suspected, I completed the necessary work.
For each modified potion ritual, I have recorded a unique method for guiding the reaction with focused intent.
Posterity must understand: this is Borage's true, greatest contribution to the profound and mysterious art of Potions!
Now, I shall reveal the secret behind a potion's inherent magic—
Sean held his breath. The ritual and the willpower control… they were linked? A complete system? The value of Borage's 'greatest contribution' kept rising…
He couldn't help but marvel. The vastness of magic was such that just when a hopeful wizard began to forge a new path, he opened a book and found another had already mapped the way.
He meticulously copied down the newly revealed methods, word for word. He was facing a treasure trove, the accumulated wisdom of a lifetime's exploration by one of the acknowledged masters of the craft.
He checked his Panel again, noting his progress:
[Title: Potions Dabbler]
[Boil-Cure Potion: Apprentice (210/300)]
[Next Tier: Potions Novice (Requires three Novice-level Potions)]
The Boil-Cure Potion was nearing the Novice level. It was time to start brewing other potions to gain the necessary experience for the next title. Magical Drafts and Potions included recipes for several basic draughts: Common Antidote, Forgetfulness Potion, Herbicide Potion, Sleeping Draught, Swelling Solution, Wiggenweld Potion… Their difficulty levels were similar, and the ingredients generally cost only a few Galleons per batch.
However, that price was for standard quality ingredients yielding an 'Adept' level potion at best. Higher quality ingredients, capable of producing superior results, cost exponentially more. Truly master-level potions were practically priceless. Perhaps, Sean mused, it was because true Potion Masters rarely bothered with basic draughts, while lesser apothecaries lacked the skill to brew them to perfection? His own 'Expert' level Boil-Cure Potion, valued at a staggering ten Galleons, had certainly boosted his finances considerably.
Later that night, as Sean drifted off to sleep, the wind rustled the pages of Advanced Potion-Making, left open on his nightstand. Another slip of parchment danced free, landing softly beside the sky-blue bed curtains.
Indeed, the journey continues.
We have not yet found that final, definitive answer regarding the fundamental nature of Potions.
However, by chance, we have observed certain… anomalies.
Could this be a new beginning for the art?
—Borage
Monday morning. Silence reigned among the Ravenclaw first-years as they descended to the dungeons for their double Potions lesson. Under the Potions Master's intimidating gaze, it was universally dreaded.
"Oh, Sean, slow down, slow down," Justin muttered, struggling to keep up as he assisted Sean. It felt like Sean made leaps in progress with every single brew, making his meticulously copied notes increasingly difficult to follow.
"Wait, Terry, are you saying," Michael asked incredulously, pausing mid-slug-stewing, "that while we're still prepping ingredients, those two next door have already finished brewing?"
"Yes," Terry confirmed, his eyes fixed on Justin, who was carefully bottling their finished potion.
"I find that hard to believe… Right, I believe you, Terry," Michael amended hastily, following Terry's gaze. He quickly looked away, then leaned closer, whispering, "Terry, my deepest apologies for doubting both you and Sean. Do you think… maybe after class… we could ask Sean for some tips?"
Just as the first period was ending, Professor Snape swept towards the back row, causing the young eagles and badgers to shrink in their seats.
"Barely adequate," his voice remained cold, though perhaps a fraction less venomous than usual. "One point—each."
Sean glanced at the 'Novice' level potion Justin had brewed almost entirely on his own. Justin's talent for Potions seems quite promising, he noted internally.
As the second period began, Snape made an announcement that elicited groans from most of the class: they would be learning a new potion – the Swelling Solution. Students who had just barely mastered the Boil-Cure Potion looked horrified, quickly silencing their protests under Snape's icy glare.
Only Sean's eyes lit up with renewed interest.
"The Swelling Solution," Snape began, his voice low and smooth, instantly quelling the last whispers in the dungeon, "is a potion that appears simple, yet demands… precision and intellect." He paused, a faint sneer touching his lips. "Qualities, I fear, that are in short supply among most of you. Therefore, should your attention dare to wander for even an instant…"
The students snapped to attention, their focus absolute.
The Swelling Solution required three ingredients: bat spleens, dried nettles, and puffer-fish eyes. Sean had never handled two of them before. As Professor Snape began demonstrating the preparation, Sean watched, his eyes unblinking, absorbing every detail.
