r18novel Chapter 101: An Irreplaceable Miracle
Chapter 101: An Irreplaceable Miracle
Chapter 101: An Irreplaceable Miracle
Like Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets.
This is a remnant of Helga Hufflepuff in the ancient castle. Over the years, it has been given several different names, and its original history has gradually been buried under the dust—unintentionally, a gentle breeze blows, and the past of the beginning of history is brought back to life.
Ian was still unaware of the reason why the Room of Requirement was created back then, but that did not prevent him from glimpsing the secrets of this secret room through the Room of Requirement's unreserved display.
[Ancient Alchemy Proficiency +4]
[Ancient Alchemy Proficiency +3]
[Ancient Alchemy Proficiency +5]
Complex and mysterious runes shimmered in the dim light.
Complex alchemical formulas and magical runes danced slowly in the air, each symbol containing profound wisdom and power, and they connected to form the path to the temple of knowledge.
The inscriptions and formulas scattered throughout the room and in every space together form a magnificent picture that would absolutely amaze countless alchemists in the field of alchemy.
Ian felt the same way. Among the shimmering inscriptions, he seemed to glimpse Helga Hufflepuff's figure from back then. A thousand years ago, Lady Helga Hufflepuff had slowly written down her accumulated knowledge, stroke by stroke, thread by thread, in what should have been an extremely ordinary room.
This is not just Helga Hufflepuff's golden house, but also a treasure she left to posterity.
Many extremely profound magical knowledge is inscribed here to create alchemical miracles like the House of Requirement, including magic that is now strictly controlled.
[Seamless Stretching Charm (Level 0) 32/50]
Without a sound.
As Ian was comprehending the magic, his personal panel underwent another slight change—this was magic that wouldn't appear in the standard textbooks, as it was controlled by the powerful families and clans of the wizarding world through the law.
The Seamless Stretching Mantra.
A gem in the field of space.
In any world, the power involving space and time is undoubtedly at the pinnacle of power. Perhaps the powerful families don't want too many people to learn this magic, nor is it simply to monopolize the sales channels for goods like suitcases and family tents.
There must be some profound things that only philosophical elites can understand, so that they can demonstrate their specialness and feel the glory of their family.
"Thank you, ancestors; thank you, founder; thank you, Hogwarts!" Ian sat cross-legged amidst countless runes and alchemical formulas, diligently absorbing the knowledge shining through them as if gazing at the stars.
[Transfiguration Proficiency +3]
[Ancient Alchemy Proficiency +5]
[Seamless Stretch Spell Proficiency +3]
【Illusion Spell (Level 0) 4/50】
This is a more intuitive way of learning than books. It's like breaking down a sophisticated instrument into countless small parts, which allows someone with the relevant background to understand the underlying principles.
Ian spent the entire afternoon in the Room of Requirement. If he hadn't promised the young wizards that he would teach them the SCP mini-class that night, and as a junior professor he couldn't be as incompetent as Headmaster Dumbledore, he might have wanted to stay up all night in the Room of Requirement.
"This place will surely speed up my learning of the alchemy assignments left by Master Morgan." Before leaving the Room of Requirement, Ian lingered, turning back again and again to look at the revealed runes and construction formulas.
The things here are clearly not something that can be learned in ten days or half a month. Even with Ian's powerful comprehension and learning abilities, it is unknown whether he can learn them all within a year. In fact, you can understand this by thinking about it. After all, this Golden House is Helga Hufflepuff's masterpiece.
"That Professor Arthur King, does he really think someone can thoroughly research the Room of Requirement within a year?" Ian didn't know much about people who were rarely mentioned in the original work, let alone a character who had never appeared at all. He could only guess that perhaps the other party had been a student of the alchemy master Nicolas Flamel.
As Ian pondered what he had learned from the Room of Requirement, he returned to the Ravenclaw common room. There, the scoundrel at the entrance was trying to harass a little witch he knew well.
Cho Chang is definitely one of the best among the Ravenclaw wizards, but when faced with a course she had never been exposed to before, she could only be stopped outside by the bronze eagle head and have her head banged on.
It's just a pity.
For profound mathematical problems, racking one's brains obviously won't yield answers—Ian's arrival became Cho Chang's savior, and the Bronze Eagle reluctantly opened the door for the two of them.
"You can even answer a question like this? Is there anything you can't do?" Cho Chang's attitude towards Ian was similar to that of most first-year wizards, and she had begun to admire him.
"Actually, I was forced to learn this too, really. Don't let me find out who taught the Gates all this stuff, or I'll definitely let that person know that Ian is not someone to be messed with!" Ian cursed himself loudly indignantly, obviously to avoid being suspected by the clever little wizards.
These days, there are bounties circulating in Ravenclaw about a "mysterious evil man," and some senior wizards have even made their own "torture instruments" in hopes of catching the culprit who corrupted the Bronze Falcon. Ian had seen those things, which is why he no longer dared to consider surrendering himself for the bounty.
"You're right! That person is really awful! I think he must be a despicable pervert, and he's probably hiding somewhere enjoying the pleasure he gets from torturing us!" Qiu Zhang had no doubt about Ian; she simply empathized with his words, and the indignation in her tone was genuine.
"..."
Ian opened his mouth.
In the end, he didn't dare to offer any explanation. Actually, he hadn't intended to teach in too much depth at first, but who knew that the Bronze Eagle Head seemed to be addicted to learning. He couldn't help but communicate with the Bronze Eagle Head, and even for some knowledge that he didn't know, the Bronze Eagle Head wanted him to learn and look it up before coming back to answer.
"Please pay your tuition fee voluntarily, William, can you collect it for me?" As Ian's classes became more and more popular, he also gained a very conscientious free cashier.
The evening lessons went smoothly as always, and everyone learned something as usual. Some of the more talented young wizards were even able to subtly change the light source on their wands.
Before returning to the dormitory.
Ian even saw William trying to fling the light source off his wand, the green light just like his hair. Perhaps because he had seen Ian scare people before, the guy kept muttering "Avada Kedavra" and his imposing manner really made Ian lose his composure.
Michael wasn't the type to enjoy "evening study sessions," and Ian rarely saw him in the small classrooms. However, when he returned to his dorm today, he found Michael studying under William's small desk lamp—this was absolutely unprecedented, as the black guy was usually the first to rush out of the classroom after class.
He's not quite like Ron.
Michael's magical talent was actually even higher than William's. It's not that William's talent was bad; in fact, William was already comparable to Hermione among the first-year students. It's just a pity that Michael was a genius; he always managed to learn what he was supposed to learn in class.
In the dormitory.
One is a top student, the other a genius; the déjà vu is really strong. Only Ian wouldn't feel pressured in a dorm like this, because he's the kind of genius who's practically cheating the system between a genius and a top student.
"What are you looking at?" Ian noticed that after returning to his dorm, Michael hurriedly packed away his books, looking rather comical with a guilty expression.
"Nothing...nothing." The black man stammered, his eyes darting around. He waited until Ian had washed up and gone to bed long before he furtively took out the book again and continued reading.
Ian secretly cast a newly learned illusion spell on himself, and quietly slipped from the bed to behind Michael. Only then did he finally understand what book the little black guy was reading for the first time ever.
108 Love Techniques for Wizards
really.
Michael doesn't seem to learn anything useful after class.
"You won't get a girl with the stuff in this book." Ian, having satisfied his curiosity, couldn't help but show up and whisper a reminder, which almost made the unsuspecting Michael jump up in fright.
The black man's skin almost turned into the skin of the Red Devil.
"Impossible! The author of this book said that if he can't win over the girl he likes, he will give me a full refund! There's also his ultimate weapon at the end of the book!" Michael simply didn't want to believe Ian's assessment. He quickly flipped to the last page of the book and then scratched off the shiny coating.
Remember, for us playboys, love potions are a foolproof killer.
Upon seeing the text, Michael's skin immediately turned a deep purplish-red.
The human body is truly amazing.
"You must have bought this book in Knockturn Alley!" Ian's eyes widened as he looked at the author's name... Sure enough, the author hadn't dared to sign his name on the book.
"Refund! Refund!"
After regaining his senses, Michael became furious. He had always been a little wizard who loved sweet romance and was clearly extremely resistant to some Hextech methods.
"We're all brothers. If you need it, I can actually brew it for you. Rebecca can drink it for a lifetime. How can that not be called love?"
While Ian was jokingly jumping around the dorm room and using his Black talent to hurl insults at the author's entire family, he pulled his suitcase out from under his bed. He had always dreamed of having a large house to carry with him, and the Seamless Stretch Charm could obviously make that dream come true.
"Let me see~"
It was late at night.
William and Michael had run out of curses and were already asleep, but Ian was still examining his suitcase, constantly trying to expand the interior space.
[Seamless Stretch Spell Proficiency +3]
[Seamless Stretch Spell Proficiency +4]
[Seamless Stretch Spell Proficiency +3]
On the second day.
The days remained calm and peaceful.
Ian was a little surprised that his good uncle had skipped two classes.
Yes.
The professor skipped class.
I heard that Potions classes for other years are being taught by other teachers, with the school's official excuse being that Snape has contracted an illness and is currently receiving treatment at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Injuries and Damage. However, Ian had secretly looked at his Marauder's Map, and Snape had clearly remained in his office at Hogwarts the entire time.
Dumbledore was an incompetent headmaster, and Snape, as a professor at Hogwarts—well, he wasn't exactly a very competent teacher to begin with.
Ian also secretly went to see Snape, but Snape blocked the door like Hagrid did, startling Ian with his face full of dark circles, as if he were seriously exhausted.
"Uncle! What's wrong?"
Ian wanted to check on Snape, wondering if Snape might have really contracted some kind of contagious disease.
After all, this face doesn't look like a normal person's face at all.
"Mind your own business, Prince! Your Charms class starts in fifteen minutes!" Snape, unappreciative, simply dismissed him without showing the slightest gratitude for Ian's concern.
He even looked at Ian with great annoyance, as if he wanted to curse, but in the end he didn't say anything.
Just as Ian was about to leave for Charms class, Snape suddenly plucked a few more hairs from Ian's head. He didn't pluck as many as before, but Snape's movements seemed to be becoming increasingly practiced.
"Are you ever going to stop?!"
Ian covered his hair, looking indignant.
Snape merely glared at him before slamming the office door shut. It was a minor incident; Ian, having been tricked by Snape again, was only sullen for a short while. Aurora's comment, "You have more hair than me, you definitely can't pluck it all out," was truly a good piece of advice.
Of course, Ian isn't entirely without grudges.
He had already secretly resolved that if Snape ever passed away, he would immediately launch a thorough search of the Mystic Realm, and then, together with his friends, pluck Snape's hair. If, as Professor Morgan had said, souls were reincarnated, then he would definitely make sure his good uncle was bald in his next life.
For the next two days, until the day before Halloween, Ian's life was very fulfilling. After class during the day, he would spend his time studying in the Room of Requirement, occasionally sharing his insights with the Dementors. After his evening classes, he would spend all his time further expanding the space of his suitcase.
A large, single-level apartment was clearly not enough for Ian's idea; he wanted to be able to keep thousands of magical creatures inside, so he could eat whichever one he wanted when he was out and about.
"Of course, I don't eat cute ones, I don't eat those that are intelligent, I only eat those that are fierce and unruly." Ian spent two days like this, without even going to watch the Quidditch selection tournament.
Ian wasn't really into this kind of sport that could excite wizards. Competitive games could be unfair, but they obviously couldn't completely lose their balance.
A player with an overly strong sense of individual heroism is often the key to the outcome of a game, which can easily cause the entire team's efforts to be wasted in an instant.
If the role of the seeker can be weakened, the game might become more interesting.
When the young wizards returned excitedly after watching the competition, Ian had already gained another boost in his power in the Room of Requirement, except that he had lost a few strands of hair while pondering the problem.
"Oh, you have no idea what you've missed! Gryffindor was about to be defeated, but one of their very cunning ones yelled, 'Ian's behind you!'"
"At the crucial moment, Marcus Flint, who had been dominating the battlefield, fell off his broom. He was terrified of you. Even with a broken arm, he was still looking around in a panic."
"Yeah, yeah, Marcus Flint was really in a bad mood. He was completely folded up and had to be taken straight to the infirmary." Michael and William's descriptions were like a stand-up comedy routine.
When Ian went back to get his textbooks with his two roommates, he heard a lot about the competition, and he was particularly interested in the part about Marcus Flint falling off his broom, as described by William.
It wasn't that he wanted to show off his power and scare people, but according to William and Michael's joint description, when Marcus Flint of Slytherin fell off the broom, his head was able to twist back 250 degrees wildly—what an exaggerated and outrageous description!
Ian really wanted to slap his two boastful roommates in the face right there and then, for they actually thought they believed Marcus Flint was an owl!
"Hurry! We'll miss it! That professor is terrifying!"
The afternoon class was Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Although everyone is quite afraid of Gilderoy Grindelwald, he is a teacher with real skills, a fact that has been unanimously agreed upon by all the students in the school in recent days.
"At least he's much better than that professor who got gored to death by a wild boar before the semester even started!"
"That professor who was murdered on the first day of school certainly couldn't have been any more capable than this current professor!"
"Of course! He's Gilderoy Lockhart! The perfect man! Although he'll be old by the time I grow up, I'll definitely have a daughter and have her marry him!"
have to say.
Gilderoy Grindelwald's disguise was truly outstanding.
Aside from his unreserved interactions with Ian, the various Lockhart-like details he displayed in public ensured that even the professors never had any doubts about him.
While the original Gilderoy Grindelwald was less arrogant and conceited, most people felt that the real Gilderoy Lockhart might not be as flamboyant as the rumors suggested. In fact, this actually changed Professor McGonagall and the other professors' perception of Gilderoy Lockhart considerably.
"Today, we will learn about these centaurs, these beasts," Gilderoy Grindelwald began his lecture.
This made Ian realize the methods and ruthlessness he had shown as the first sage.
With a blank expression, as if he had lost his soul, the tall horseman was completely at the mercy of anyone. He was clearly under the Soul Curse, and his entire mind was completely controlled by Gilderoy Grindelwald.
This is not the limit.
As Gilderoy Grindelwald traced the history of the centaurs and analyzed their habits and characteristics, he began to lead the young wizards in studying the centaurs' weaknesses.
"Some say that the internal structure of these beasts is no different from that of us humans, but that's not true. The centaurs' skin and certain organs provide them with extremely strong magical resistance." He continued,
Gilderoy Grindelwald waved his hand, his elegant movement resembling that of a conductor.
I didn't hear any incantation.
next moment.
The centaur's powerful body began to contort in an unnatural way.
Muscles and bones gradually separated in visible ripples, yet without any painful groans—for Grindelwald's magic had frozen their senses in that moment of terror. Amidst the horrified gazes and uncontrollable screams of countless young wizards, a jaw-dropping scene unfolded before the witnesses.
The centaur's body seemed to be dismantled by an invisible force; its limbs, torso, head, and even every rib, blood vessel, and organ were freed from their original constraints in an incredible way, slowly rising and suspending in mid-air. They were not floating haphazardly.
Instead, they are arranged in a strange and harmonious layout, as if they could be put together at any time to reassemble into a very, very vivid centaur.
Yes, it really is very vivid, because even after the centaurs split, Ian can still sense their thoughts, which proves that the centaurs are still alive after being disintegrated.
In fact.
You can also see this if you look closely.
Although the suspended organs were no longer complete living beings, they still retained a certain form of vitality, as if wrapped in a thin magical membrane, maintaining their most basic form of existence. The heart still beat weakly, the lungs seemed to breathe silently, and even the finest nerve endings flickered with a leaping light.
"Professor! What have you done?!"
"Oh my god! It's dead! It must be dead!"
"Ugh~ Ugh~ Ugh~"
Not everyone is as calm in their observation and perception as Ian.
The suspended organs, even the blood vessels and the blood flowing within them, were clearly visible, almost within reach. The surreal scene instilled an indescribable terror in everyone present. Of course, it was much better than facing Dementors, but many of the young witches were so frightened that they turned pale and vomited on the spot.
"What kind of magic is this?"
Ian raised his hand, unable to resist asking Grindelwald a question. Compared to the panic of his classmates, his attention was entirely focused on Gilderoy Grindelwald's magic.
"This is a torture spell. To learn this magic, one needs a very good understanding of the structure of living beings." Gilderoy Grindelwald looked at Ian with approval.
He quickly added, "I'm just a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher,"
I will not teach you such cruel dark magic.
Just as Ian was feeling somewhat disappointed that he finally had a chance to unleash his "Butcher's Instinct," Gilderoy Grindelwald spoke up in an extremely serious tone with a stern face.
"Hogwarts has always forbidden the study of dark magic. If I find out that anyone has sneaked into my office and opened the third drawer from the top of my sixth cabinet—ha, don't blame me for giving you a stern warning. You certainly don't want to know just how severe my warning is."
After Gilderoy finished speaking with utmost seriousness, he immediately flashed a Lockhart-like smile, "I hope everyone can become a well-behaved child with the ability to think independently."
As he spoke.
He approached the centaur, who had been magically disintegrated and whose time seemed to have been frozen.
"As you can see, centaurs have an extra layer of tissue on their skin compared to humans. It is this extra layer of tissue that gives them magic resistance comparable to that of higher magical animals."
"As for the metabolism of the potion, it relies on this organ - it's not difficult to break down the function of this organ, but it's really difficult to break through the centaur's magic resistance."
"However, as you can see, the centaurs are clearly not protected by magic resistance at the steel door, so attacking here will obviously require some special techniques." Gilderoy Grindelwald waved his magic again, restoring the dismembered centaurs to their normal state.
"I hope you will ask questions actively during my demonstration." Before Gilderoy Grindelwald could even begin his presentation, the doors to the Defense Against the Dark Arts class were flung open. Severus Snape, dressed in black robes and looking haggard, stormed into the classroom where the lesson was in progress.
"Come with me!"
Snape didn't give Ian a chance to answer, grabbing him and pulling him toward the door without even glancing at Gilderoy Grindelwald on the podium.
"Professor Snape, I think I'm teaching a class. Are you going to take my student away from my classroom?" Gilderoy Grindelwald frowned, his expression clearly displeased.
"I have urgent business with him, and besides—what useful things could you possibly learn from him?" Snape's dismissive tone clearly showed no respect for the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. This wasn't something a headmaster would do, but Snape's words and actions weren't without reason.
"Lockhart, don't think I don't know your ways—Dumbledore told me to be more careful with you, but he clearly doesn't know just how audacious you are."
Snape ignored Ian, who was tugging at his robes, and stared expressionlessly at the man on the podium. "Dementor, centaur, hopefully your money will also make the Ministry of Magic forgive your crimes."
audacious in the extreme!
That's incredibly audacious!
Ian stared intently at his good uncle—Snape! He's really gotten brave! He doesn't even want to maintain the facade of a working relationship!
"That's not something you need to worry about, Professor Snape." Gilderoy Grindelwald, after being scolded, suddenly went from frowning to smiling.
"I already explained this in sixth grade class. There are no Dementors. I just let the young wizards in class that day experience what mental magic feels like."
He gave Ian a meaningful look, his tone light.
"This centaur, is that also part of your mental magic? Hah, your magic actually managed to affect me too. Should I praise your magic for being truly powerful?"
Snape glanced mockingly at the dumbfounded centaur on the platform. He noticed his robes were practically torn to shreds by Ian, and glared at Ian with his panda eyes. "This is a sinful centaur. I have permission from the Ministry of Magic." Gilderoy Grindelwald raised an eyebrow and indeed produced a permission certificate from the Ministry of Magic.
This was utterly unbelievable to Snape.
Under the watchful eyes of the Ravenclaw wizards, Snape felt a little embarrassed, so he could only force out a defiant remark and pull Ian away.
"Looks like your money really works; it even gets you connections at the Ministry of Magic." An annoyed Snape, not wanting to linger, quickly led a somewhat reluctant Ian away around the corner. Many of the young wizards were still reeling from the shock of Ian being taken away, and Gilderoy Grindelwald was also watching the entrance with the other young wizards.
He didn't stop Snape from taking Ian away, but his eyes briefly turned white in the blind spot of the young wizards' vision, only to quickly revert to their original state.
"Professor Snape isn't usually like this. It seems something big has happened in their family." Gilderoy Grindelwald only frowned slightly, not showing any signs of frustration or curiosity about his failure. He simply used a teasing tone to subtly draw everyone's attention back to him.
"Let's forget about our incompetent Potions teacher and get back to our noble Defense Against the Dark Arts class. I think Professor Snape must be jealous of my talent."
The lectures continued.
Ian, however, clearly couldn't fully experience the lesson. Snape dragged him to the basement, and, completely bewildered, he entered Snape's office.
"You weren't sick? I knew it! You wouldn't let me brew it, but you secretly brewed so much in the office—" Ian smelled the familiar aroma of brewing potions as soon as he entered.
only.
Before he could even jump up, he discovered that all the potions on the table were actually grayish-white, completely unrelated to the jewel-like deep blue Infinite Power Potion.
Did I misunderstand my uncle?
Snape was rinsing the cauldron there when Ian walked over with some confusion, picked up a bottle of grayish-white potion from the table, uncorked it, and held it to his nose.
The ingredients are indeed correct, but the smell is slightly different, and the color is completely different, which is obviously not the smell that the Infinite Power Potion should have.
"Is this your improved variety?" Ian asked curiously, only to find that Snape's expression had become even more gloomy, and he had set up all the reprocessed crucibles.
There were six pots in total.
The quantity and even the placement of the potions were a perfect replica of the ones he had discovered Ian had secretly brewed. Ian felt as if he had returned to that afternoon at the Room of Requirement.
"What does this mean?"
Ian saw Snape take out six prepared materials and place them on the table. Only then did Ian notice a bottle of potion with a shimmering golden luster on the table.
"Don't touch that thing!"
Snape saw where Ian's gaze was fixed on, and he hurriedly tried to rush forward to take the potion, but Ian, standing in front of the table, had already swiftly picked up the bottle and pried off the cork.
It has a flavor that has never been properly cooked.
But it's not unfamiliar.
"You took my hair and you really did something wicked!" Ian had never been so furious before, because he could smell the unique aroma of Polyjuice Potion in the bottle! He had suspected Snape of using his hair to make this stuff before, but now he had actually caught Snape red-handed!
The compound decoction needs to be prepared for twenty-one days. This uncle, who is more evil than evil, is indeed very cunning. I wonder if he has always had the habit of impersonating others to do bad things!
"I don't know what you're talking about!"
Snape's eyes flickered. He snatched the bottle from Ian's hand. "Use your brain. What would I need to do to become like you?"
Snape knew he couldn't hide the contents of the potion from Ian, since no one knew Ian's potion-making skills better than the professor.
"Go and brew the medicine!"
He spoke to Ian and gave him instructions.
Seeing that Ian didn't move and was just standing there glaring at him, Snape frowned and said through gritted teeth, "I'll pay you! Go brew the medicine!"
Ian still did not take any action.
What do you want?
Snape was clearly somewhat exasperated.
"I want to know what you did looking like me!" Ian really didn't expect Snape to be such a pervert. Sure enough, Cho Chang would blame the family for calling him a pervert.
"I've only used this office." Snape slumped weakly in his chair, clearly unwilling to reveal his true purpose to Ian.
"Um?"
Ian found it somewhat difficult to understand.
"Prepare the medicine!"
Snape felt Ian's suspicious gaze, his expression one of utter humiliation and discomfort, completely clueless as to where he had gone wrong.
Or is it that it's a miracle that such a potion can be successfully brewed even once? If that's the case, it's actually not bad, because he wouldn't need to select an ingredient from the recipe to try and eradicate it.
"Okay, Professor, I don't need your Galleons. I just need you to exchange my Galleons for pounds and send them to my house for Christmas." After receiving Snape's reply, Ian stopped being a wooden doll and started brewing the Infinite Power Potion.
He wasn't rusty at all. Ian had originally thought Snape would correct some of his actions, but to his surprise, Snape just kept a close eye on his every step and didn't seem to want to give him any pointers at all. The only sound in the office was the "gurgling" of the potion as the dark blue potion was poured into the bottle.
"You want six pots?"
Ian handed the brewed potion to Snape. He looked at the remaining five cauldrons and was about to continue when Snape, with an unpredictable expression, chased him out of the office.
"Get your Galleons ready!"
He had no intention of going back on his word.
The door was closed very roughly. Ian tried to press his ear against the door to listen for any sounds inside, but all he heard from Snape's office was the sound of pots being shoveled and washed.
I listened for about five minutes.
Ian just felt incredibly bored.
"Perhaps I can still catch up with Defense Against the Dark Arts class." Still not understanding Snape's situation, Ian was still thinking about the highly valuable lessons from Grindelwald. He didn't think Snape couldn't achieve what he could; perhaps Snape had misremembered the ritual steps?
Although Snape was a Potions Master, it's still possible that staying up late can weaken one's memory. Surely, it's not like only he could brew such a potion, right?
Hmm... it doesn't seem impossible. Maybe I can ask Professor Morgan next time what's going on. Ian followed his usual pattern of seeking help from his mentor whenever he encountered a problem.
Some time after Ian left the basement.
"How could this be!"
Snape stared in disbelief at his failed attempt at yet another masterpiece. He had perfectly replicated every step of Ian's work, down to the time taken for each step.
however.
The potion produced after the ritual using the wand is still a grayish-white color. It has some effect of invigorating magic, but it cannot produce the same effect and quality as the deep blue potion.
"My steps were correct, I even became him—and it still didn't work?" Snape was completely baffled, pacing back and forth in his office for a long time, but still couldn't figure out the reason.
Dumbledore won't be back until tonight, and I don't dare ask him for help. Maybe I can look in the restricted section of the library; after all, that brat said his recipe came from there.
Thinking of this.
Snape rushed out of his office, his hurried manner causing the cats in the corridor to scatter. He encountered Sybil Trelawney, a fellow Hogwarts professor, in the lobby on the first floor.
"Good afternoon, Snape."
Sybil Trelawney, with her fluffy hair and thick-rimmed glasses, carefully held a crystal ball, clearly a teaching tool for senior wizards.
"You seem to have something on your mind, yes, I can sense it—" Sybil Trelawney, getting into character early, grabbed Snape somewhat nervously.
"I am not your student, and you don't need to put on an act in front of me, Professor Trelawney." Snape's gaze was cold as he flung Sybil Trelawney's hand away.
He continued walking towards the library.
however.
Sybil Trelawney behind her suddenly twitched, her eyes rolled upwards, and then, as if it weren't her voice, she uttered a soft whisper.
"Why don't you ask about that book, the one you got years ago, the one that made the Squib Resurrection Potion?" Sybil Trelawney's words made Snape stop in his tracks.
He turned around in horror.
He looked at Sybil Trelawney with disbelief. However, after saying that, Sybil Trelawney convulsed a few times as if she had an epileptic seizure.
"What's wrong, Snape?"
She seemed to have completely forgotten what had just happened.
"Do you remember what you just said?" Snape stared intently at Sybil Trelawney.
He saw a blank look in Sybil Trelawney's eyes.
Snape finally let out a sigh of relief, his expression complex.
"Sorry, I have something to do."
His attitude improved slightly, and he even started running. He quickly returned to his office and reopened the hidden compartment where he had taken out the potion earlier.
Without the slightest hesitation.
Snape took a brick from the hidden compartment, and the brick immediately transformed into a book, or rather, a very old diary. The bright red cover seemed to reflect the owner's personality, and the diary's owner had a name that Ian knew very well—Morgan le Fay.
Apart from the cover.
There wasn't a single word in the diary. Snape sat back down at his desk, hesitated for a long time, then gritted his teeth, picked up a quill, and wrote down his question.
Is the formula for the revival medication incomplete?
He wrote down his doubts.
[Search results, keyword: Rejuvenation Agent: The complete formula for the Rejuvenation Agent has been presented. The answer you are looking for is not recorded in this notebook. Perhaps you should look for verification methods elsewhere.] Words began to appear on the blank pages of the diary, with a feel similar to a search engine response.
"Just as I thought, I still can't believe that madwoman's prophecy. What's wrong with Ian's damn Infinite Power Potion?" Just as Snape sighed with frustration and was about to reseal the book, something unexpected happened.
Although no words were written down.
But the handwriting in the diary reappeared.
Search results for the keyword "Infinite Power Potion": Apocalypse Potion (prerequisite), cannot be copied, recipe unknown, my master had a record of it.
This is a taboo among mortals; it requires the permission of the gods.