Even though the Boil-Cure Potion was the simplest one they'd ever brewed, it was still enough to send a bunch of first-year students into total chaos.
Snape drifted around the classroom like a giant bat, his long black cloak billowing behind him as he inspected every workstation.
Rock set the cauldron on the fire and grabbed the magical thermometer to monitor the temperature.
Theo, following his lead, calmly handled the rest of the prep work—measuring out dried nettles and placing the porcupine quills neatly on the table.
Then he began taking notes with a quill, recording each step on parchment.
While the cauldron hadn't started bubbling yet, Rock carefully prepared the horned slugs, handling them gently to keep them intact.
"Rock, it's boiling."
Theo watched the surface of the water begin forming small bubbles like fish eyes, double-checked the thermometer, and spoke up.
"Alright."
Rock wiped his hands on a handkerchief, then added the powdered snake fangs to the cauldron. He picked up the dried nettles Theo had already weighed, lowered them to the surface, and dropped them in steadily.
With the addition of the nettles, the potion gradually turned a clear, pearly shade of pale green.
…Honestly, no wonder medieval Muggles burned witches. This color, the bubbling surface—it absolutely looked like poison being brewed.
"Theo, turn the alcohol lamp down—just a tiny flame. Slowly. Careful not to snuff it out."
As he spoke, Rock picked up the stirring rod and gently stirred four clockwise rotations.
His movements were extremely slow—Boil-Cure Potion couldn't tolerate a violent whirlpool.
Theo used the anti-stick spoon to lower in four horned slugs one by one. The potion released soft pops, and its color deepened into a bright emerald green.
A faint mint-like aroma spread from the cauldron.
"It's working!" Theo grinned.
Rock shook his head lightly, keeping his eyes on the thermometer to ensure it didn't get too hot. "Not yet. Still a little off."
All they could do now was let it simmer.
"Kill the heat."
When the time was right, Rock gave the order.
"Wingardium Leviosa."
With a flick of his wand, the cauldron rose and floated off the flame.
After waiting ten seconds for the bubbling to stop, Rock pinched a small amount of porcupine quills between his fingers and sprinkled them evenly across the surface.
sizzle… crackle…
The moment the quills touched the potion, they reacted softly.
The emerald green potion shifted toward a lake-blue shade, sending up delicate streams of steam.
Tunk—
Soft footsteps approached from behind. Rock's brows tightened, but he kept working.
Only Snape was allowed to wander like that during class—and the man rarely made noise when walking. If he was deliberately making sound now, it was to throw them off.
Or, more likely, if Rock even glanced away, Snape would immediately pounce with a scolding.
Focus was the key to brewing potions.
Just as Rock was preparing to bottle the potion, Snape leaned down and inhaled the rising vapors deeply.
Rock remained calm; Theo nervously tried to read Snape's expression.
Unfortunately, Snape's face was stone-cold as always. After a long silence, he lifted his eyelids.
"Acceptable. Mr. Rock, Mr. Theo—by first-year standards, this is adequate." Snape practically snorted the words out of his nose, his cloak snapping behind him as he strode to another table.
"Whew—" Theo let out a massive breath. Snape was terrifying.
Rock exchanged a subtle glance with him—relax—and began bottling the potion.
Across the room, Adam, who'd just been shredded by Snape, stared with open envy.
Decision made: next Potions class, he was sticking with Rock no matter what.
"Aaah!"
Suddenly, a student near the front screamed, and half the class jumped onto their stools.
A Hufflepuff boy clutched his right hand, now covered in angry red boils, his face twisted in pain.
The cauldron in front of him had already spilled, hissing as it ate into the floor.
"Idiot!"
Snape swept past Rock, snatching up the Boil-Cure Potion Rock had just bottled.
"If you can't use the Levitation Charm, have you never heard of using tools to move a cauldron?"
He snarled, flicked his wand, and instantly vanished the spilled potion and mangled cauldron.
Without another word, he poured Rock's potion over the Hufflepuff student's hand. The boils vanished on contact, retreating like they'd found their natural predator.
"Five points from Hufflepuff for your stupidity!"
Rock smacked his lips. So Snape used his potion… but apparently awarding points was still off the table?
Snape continued his rampage around the room, deducting points even from Ravenclaw students for the smallest mistakes.
Class ended with everyone thoroughly traumatized.
"That was exhausting."
Only after they'd put a healthy distance between themselves and the Potions dungeon did Theo dare to complain.
"Be grateful. We only have to write a three-scroll essay. Rock has to write an extra one." Adam looked like he'd just survived a war and offered Rock his condolences.
Rock just smiled. Essays weren't really a problem.
He was much more focused on his stats screen.
Material Handling Lv.1 (100/299)
Heat Control Lv.1 (100/299)
Magic Infusion Lv.1 (100/299)
Just one session brewing the Boil-Cure Potion had bumped all his Potions-related skills up to Level 1—though he had to admit it felt a little like cheating.
After all, Snape's Potions Affinity aura definitely sped things up.
Still, at least now he felt genuinely competent at basic potion-making technique.
Even the Boil-Cure Potion recipe was at about 75% mastery. Potion recipes didn't have levels—only mastery ratings.
And Snape was right—the potion he and Theo brewed was only just "acceptable."
"If you ask me, Potions should really be an elective," Theo muttered, rubbing his nose. He still felt dizzy from Snape's constant pressure.
Rock didn't respond. If magic was like a cultivation path, then Potions was basically alchemy.
Resources were absolutely essential—and a good potion could bring immense wealth and reputation.
Snape's own achievements in Potions had earned him a Second-Class Order of Merlin.
And the ingredients in Snape's office alone were worth more than several shops on Diagon Alley.
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