The night in the Forbidden Forest was still so dim and lightless. Occasionally, the wind blew, making the leaves rustle in a chorus.
In the hollow deep in the Forbidden Forest, it was still a chaotic scene. Countless Acromantulas, large and small, surrounded Marcel, who had arrived again, staring at him silently with eight large, gleaming eyes.
This was the third time Marcel had entered the territory of the Acromantulas since the start of this term. He had spent almost the entire summer vacation on the bloodline modification project.
You know, when he was at the Château de Blois, apart from helping Vylie take care of the Raffaela Dragon's Kiss, Marcel spent most of his spare time conducting research in this area.
And gratifyingly, the research on bloodline modification was going smoothly, and the first attempt could begin tonight.
"Aragog, are you ready?" Marcel asked calmly.
When Marcel returned from France and came to the Forbidden Forest for the first time, Aragog and his wife Mosag met with him together.
Originally, Mosag would not agree no matter what. To ask her to send out her own children was simply like asking for her life.
But when Mosag learned that if Aragog accepted the bloodline modification, the children born would be stronger and easier to survive, she quickly agreed.
In the Forbidden Forest, even for the Acromantula colony, the survival rate of juveniles was not very high. Mosag would always lose her temper because her children suddenly disappeared or died. For her, it was extremely important that her children could grow up healthy.
But even so, the matter of "accepting wizard modification" still made Aragog a little hesitant.
When Marcel asked Aragog if he was ready, Aragog clicked and moved around, obviously still a little worried.
"Don't worry, I've said it before, even if the modification fails, there won't be any problems," Marcel comforted. "At most, you'll feel very tired and need to rest for a few days."
The modification plan Marcel chose started from Potions, which he was best at.
He extracted some of Aragog's body fluids and specifically mixed them with the basilisk's blood. If successful, Aragog might not change too much, but his children would integrate some of the magical properties of the basilisk into the characteristics of the Acromantula.
However, the difficulty of this bloodline modification was indeed great. Even if the research process went quite smoothly, Marcel did not think it would succeed soon.
When Aragog indicated he was ready, Marcel decisively injected the prepared potion into his body.
Time passed little by little, and Aragog's state did not seem to change much. He just slowly became listless. From standing at the beginning, he gradually turned into lying on the ground.
"I feel... no strength," Aragog clicked.
"I think the first attempt failed," Marcel patted Aragog's leg, then took out a bottle of potion and handed it to his mouth. "Drink this, then rest for a few days, and you'll recover soon."
The failure of the first attempt did not surprise Marcel too much. This was normal. All he needed to do was adjust the modification formula according to the data collected from this attempt, that was all.
…
The next morning, the sun rose as usual, scattering the first rays of the morning sun onto Hogwarts, dispelling the quiet brought by the night.
Marcel crawled out of bed, washed up hurriedly, and walked quickly to the greenhouse.
Although Vylie had taken a year off, the task of taking care of those flowers and plants continued—there were many potion ingredients planted by Marcel himself in there. If he wasn't careful, the loss would be huge.
In the past, there would definitely be no one at such an early hour, but today there was an uninvited guest in the greenhouse.
"Professor?"
As soon as Marcel opened the greenhouse door, he saw Snape examining the herbs inside.
Snape nodded expressionlessly at Marcel.
Just as Marcel was about to go about his own business, Snape unexpectedly spoke up.
"How is the Wolfsbane Potion coming along?" Snape asked.
"Progress is good, Professor," Marcel turned around and replied. "Although the preparation process is complicated, there are no major difficulties in terms of pharmacology."
"Mmm." Snape nodded and lowered his head to continue examining the herbs.
Seeing this, Marcel wanted to turn back and tinker with his own things, but then he paused after a second thought.
"Professor Snape, there is a flower I was wondering if you could help me take a look at?" Marcel asked.
He was referring to the flower seeds Vylie had asked him to try planting last term. After that, Marcel had checked a lot of information, but he had not solved the initial question.
He thought that perhaps Snape, as a Potions Master, might know.
"You should ask Professor Sprout about this kind of question," Snape raised his head and said impatiently.
But even though he said so, he still walked towards Marcel.
The flower seeds Marcel had planted before had already grown some stems and leaves. They looked very ordinary, not moving around like other magical plants, nor suddenly spraying any gas.
Like some Muggle plants, they just broke through the soil and stood there quietly.
But if you looked closely, you would find that there was a faint psychedelic glow on their branches and leaves, which made people stare at it for a long time unknowingly.
Even Snape fell for this point.
Marcel had to pat Snape's arm to remind him.
"Don't stare at that brilliance, it's easy to get sucked in," Marcel said.
Snape looked away, stood there thinking for a moment, and then spoke.
"I haven't seen it either, nor do I remember any classics mentioning this plant, but it should have a strong hallucinogenic effect," Snape said seriously. "When they bloom, we must be prepared for this."
Marcel nodded immediately.
"...You can ask Professor Sprout again," Snape suggested.
"Actually, I've already asked, and she doesn't know what variety this flower is either," Marcel said. "These are flower seeds provided by Miss Blois. Although I don't know where she got them, it might be a new variety cultivated artificially."
Snape gave a "hmm," glanced at the plants again, and walked away.
He came to the greenhouse this time to select some herbs for teaching. Although he always had a cold face and didn't like students asking questions in class, he was always fully prepared for teaching.
Snape was a qualified Potions professor. This was personally recognized by Dumbledore, and his judgment was rarely wrong.
The time before breakfast passed quickly. After Marcel packed up his tools, he left in a hurry. And Snape had already returned to his office halfway through his work.
After breakfast, the first class today was Professor Lupin's Defense Against the Dark Arts class.
Lupin walked into the classroom almost as the bell rang. He smiled at everyone and put his tattered suitcase on the lectern.
His clothes were as shabby as when he arrived, but he looked healthier than he did on the train, as if he had eaten a few solid meals.
"Good morning, everyone," he said. "Please put your books back in your bags. Today is a practical lesson, you only need your wands."
The whole class immediately put their books back in their bags. Everyone looked very excited because they had never had a practical lesson in Defense Against the Dark Arts.
This sounded really fresh.
"Then," Lupin saw that everyone was ready and said, "follow me!"
Everyone stood up and followed Lupin out of the classroom.
He led them along a deserted corridor, turned a corner, and walked into another corridor. Soon, he stopped, right outside the staff room.
"Inside, please," said Professor Lupin, opening the door and stepping back.
The staff room was a long room full of mismatched old chairs. It looked very spacious and the windows were large, which made it always very bright inside.
In the deepest part of the room against the wall, there was a large wardrobe. It shook from time to time, banging against the wall, as if something was trapped inside.
"How could I forget about this! I should have skipped this class if I had known..." Marcel shook his head and thought, "Unless everyone wants to see what a Boggart really looks like."
"Nothing to worry about," said Professor Lupin calmly, because a few students looked a little nervous. "There's a Boggart in there."
"Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces," said Professor Lupin. "Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks—I once met one that had lodged itself in an old grandfather clock."
"This one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my third years some practice."
"So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what is a Boggart?" Lupin asked, looking at the students.
"It's a shape-shifting creature," said a Ravenclaw boy. "It can look into your heart and turn into whatever you fear the most."
"Yes, exactly, quite right!" Lupin nodded with a smile.
He paused, glanced at Marcel standing in the back, and suddenly said, "Mr. Maclean, I always hear from other professors that you usually have a deeper understanding of some knowledge. Is there anything you want to add?"
Marcel looked at Lupin and said, "I can't say it's an addition, it's just a guess—the reason why Boggarts transform to scare people might be because they feed on human fear, rather than self-defense as generally believed in the wizarding world."
"Of course, this is just a guess by some wizard scholars, but I personally think this guess does make sense."
"Yes, this is just a guess, Maclean is right," Lupin nodded. "But this is a good research topic, involving a lot of very profound knowledge. I hope you can figure it out in the future."
"Alright, then next, I think..."
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