Chapter 230. Wolfsbane Potion and Hagrid's Discovery
Adrian Wesson did not know exactly how Dumbledore had dealt with Peter,
but from Lupin he learned that Peter had seemingly been placed somewhere within Hogwarts Castle for the time being, so as to avoid Sirius Black's pursuit.
Moreover, the news that Peter was still alive had not been spread; Dumbledore also hoped they would keep this secret
until Black was apprehended.
Aside from that, ever since Scabbers turned into a human, Ron had not been in a good way—downcast for several days.
Whenever Wesson taught him, he seemed utterly distracted.
There was nothing much Wesson could do about it.
He had already done all he could.
Harry, however, suddenly developed an interest in the Animagus and asked Wesson many questions about it.
It was a very interesting and practical branch of magic, and Wesson also recommended that Harry study it.
Given Harry's talent, learning to become an Animagus would certainly pose no problem.
It was just that the prerequisites for this magic were too many, so Harry decided to try it during the long holiday.
Only seven people were registered as Animagi with the Ministry of Magic, but Wesson knew that those who had mastered this magic were definitely more than that—far more, in fact. After all, no one was keen to reveal their Animagus form.
Maintaining a mysterious Animagus form was a good trump card for most witches and wizards.
Take Wesson, for example—he had not told anyone his Animagus form.
Although he had no idea what use turning into a hedgehog would be.
If he could turn into a bird, he could at least go for a flight…
Life at Hogwarts went on as usual.
Peter was probably hidden by Dumbledore elsewhere; at any rate, Wesson had not seen him again in the castle. In early October, the temperature gradually turned cooler.
Wesson changed into a thicker dark-grey robe.
Just as he was enjoying breakfast in the Great Hall, Lupin came to find him.
"Sorry to trouble you, Wesson," Lupin said, looking rather tired.
"Don't worry, I've done this many times," Wesson said easily. "The last two years I even covered for the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor."
Yes—because last night had been the full moon, Lupin simply did not have the energy to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts today.
He had asked Wesson to take his classes.
Wesson readily agreed; he was well practised at this.
Only, this time he would be covering all years, because Lupin really did not want Snape to teach in his stead.
"How long do your after-effects last?" Wesson asked, curious.
"A morning, or a day," Lupin sighed. "That's already good, because the potion you gave me last time seems to work extremely well. If it were ordinary Wolfsbane Potion, I'd need to rest for several days at least."
Wesson nodded inwardly; his Purification Potion was indeed highly effective.
At the very least, it was much better than the Wolfsbane Potion.
He had heard that the inventor of Wolfsbane Potion, Damocles Belby, had even received the Order of Merlin because of it.
He wondered whether, if his Purification Potion were made public, he could get a medal too.
Of course, it was merely idle fancy; he would never actually do so.
After all, no one else could replicate the Purification Potion, and it would only arouse others' greed.
At that moment, Lupin thought for a moment, then fished a small vial from his pocket. "This is the Wolfsbane Potion Snape gave me. In fact, I told Dumbledore I didn't need it, but he still asked Snape to brew some. Mm… this Wolfsbane smells mouldy."
Wesson glanced over and saw that the potion inside the vial was still full—clearly, Lupin had not drunk it.
"Seems my potion isn't worthy of your refined palate, Lupin."
At some point, Snape had come up beside them, fixing a cold gaze on the Wolfsbane Potion in Lupin's hand.
Clearly, he too had noticed Lupin had not drunk the potion.
"I'm not particular about the taste of potions," Lupin shrugged and handed the Wolfsbane back to Snape, "but unfortunately, I no longer need it."
Snape's face darkened.
He knew that his relationship with Lupin was practically that of enemies.
In his view, Lupin's refusal of his Wolfsbane Potion meant that someone else more suitable was providing it for him.
This "someone else" certainly knew Lupin's identity as a werewolf, was on good terms with him, and was quite versed in potions; in all likelihood, another professor at Hogwarts.
So who could that person be?
Hard to say.
Snape turned his gaze to Wesson, who stood to the side.
"?"
Wesson suddenly noticed Snape's cold stare shift towards him and couldn't help feeling baffled.
Had he done something to annoy him again?
However, Snape soon withdrew his gaze, looked back at Lupin, and bent slightly. "You'd best keep your little secret hidden, Lupin. Otherwise—even Dumbledore won't be able to keep a dangerous monster at Hogwarts."
Lupin smiled faintly. "No need for you to worry about that, Snape."
In fact, he did not consider himself dangerous.
He could now control himself on full-moon nights even without the Wolfsbane Potion.
Besides, the pain had lessened a great deal; after the transformation ended, he merely felt a little tired.
Snape swept his robes and left.
"He's the same as ever," Lupin said to Wesson helplessly, "exactly like when we were at school. Only now, he seems to hate me even more."
"Everyone knows about that," Wesson said.
When he had been at school, it had been common knowledge that Snape and the Marauders had a poor relationship.
Even he, who had been in lower years at the time, had heard as much.
Just then, the doors of the Great Hall were pushed open with a heavy crash, producing a tremendous noise.
Wesson and Lupin turned their heads at the same time—it was Hagrid.
Hagrid was wearing a checked tweed shirt and a woollen waistcoat. As soon as he came in, he saw Wesson and Lupin not far away, his eyes lit up, and he hurried over at once.
Wesson sharply noticed that Hagrid's hair and beard were even more dishevelled than usual, and he was holding a ragged scrap of cloth.
"Sorry, you two," Hagrid panted, smoothing his beard with a hand, "it's bad manners to interrupt your breakfast, I know, but I found this in the Forbidden Forest."
Wesson and Lupin's eyes fell at the same time on the rag in Hagrid's hand.
It was probably a piece of clothing whose original form could hardly be recognised—so tattered that Wesson thought even for a vagrant,
it wouldn't count as decent clothing.
Lupin frowned. "This is…"
"Black's. This is what he wore in Azkaban," Hagrid said in a low voice, his expression grave. "He must have been in the Forbidden Forest."
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