Although Wyzett had never formally learned to brew the Confusing Concoction, his mastery of the Draught of Peace's process made following instructions a breeze.
Once he settled into the rhythm, he even found time to jot down the exact steps and key points in his notebook.
"Reheat the cauldron, add the shredded sneezewort, simmer for five minutes… When the gray vapor fades, add the frog brain and castor oil mixture, then turn up the heat…"
Wyzett ladled out the finished Confusing Concoction—a potion of pale lavender-pink, its scent sharp and oddly reminiscent of leaded petrol.
Snape fetched another toad and dripped the potion onto its back…
This time, the test results were promising. Upon absorbing the Confusing Concoction, the toad began croaking wildly, leaping higher and further, heedless of the walls it crashed into.
"Hmm…" Snape mused, tossing the toad through the inner door. "Again—same potion, but this time, you follow my lead!"
The ingredients were unchanged, but Snape's instructions turned uncharacteristically rough.
"Boil the dew on high. Throw in the lovage… Chop the scurvy-grass—just hack it up! No need for finesse…"
"Frog brains and castor oil—mash them together, dump the lot straight into the cauldron. Add the sneezewort now too—wait, no!"
Halfway through, Snape abruptly waved his wand, vanishing all the potion ingredients from the table.
He fixed Wyzett with an odd look. "Brew however you want. I only care about the result."
"Huh?" Wyzett glanced up. "You mean, I can ignore everything, even the previous methods?"
"Exactly. Do whatever you like!" Snape nodded. "Don't look at your notes, don't worry about timing or technique. Rely entirely on instinct—your intuition!"
"All right…" Though baffled, Wyzett did as told.
He closed his eyes, emptied his mind, and let himself drift into a state of blankness.
Anyone watching would notice his eyes unfocused, as if gazing into some distant, invisible place.
Maintaining this trance, Wyzett grabbed ingredients at random, tossing them into the mortar and crushing everything into a thick juice.
He tossed castor oil and frog brains into the cauldron, frying them directly.
As a pungent, almost fishy stench filled the air, he poured in the combined juices of scurvy-grass, lovage, and sneezewort without hesitation.
The cauldron crackled and spat, the odor growing stranger still, curling through the entire office.
Wyzett finished the brewing in barely a third of the usual time, and the final potion was—remarkably—still the same pinkish-purple.
The third test subject appeared. After absorbing the potion, the toad's behavior turned truly alarming.
It grew aggressive, hurling itself at the walls in a frenzy of self-destruction, as if lost to utter madness.
"This…" Wyzett turned to Snape, concern flickering in his eyes.
Snape tossed the third toad into the inner room. "Just as I wrote in my letter—stop practicing the Draught of Peace for now. The Obscurus is still affecting you."
"Your control over the Obscurus is impressive. All this time, you've only lost control once—on Halloween Eve."
"But the Obscurus is bound to you. Without realizing it, you're releasing the dark magic traits it carries."
Wyzett pressed, "Will it hurt people around me?"
"For now, no." Snape cleaned the cauldron with a wave of his wand, leaving only the potions behind.
"To release your Obscurus traits, dark magic and certain potions are the most efficient channels…"
As he spoke, he watched Wyzett's face carefully.
But Wyzett only nodded, calm as ever, not a trace of panic in his eyes.
Seeing this, Snape continued, "You're handling it well. Just keep it that way."
Wyzett hesitated, then asked tentatively, "Professor Snape, is there anything else I should watch out for?"
"Watch out for what?" Snape arched an eyebrow. "Just make sure you stay alive at Hogwarts. I'd rather not have to deal with a ghost named Wyzett haunting my classroom."
Wyzett left the office. As the door closed, Dumbledore emerged from the inner room.
"Severus… you know, you could simply leave the toads on the desk. You don't have to toss them in for me to deal with."
Snape waved his wand as he replied, "Since you're in my office, it's only right you help with something."
"If I didn't toss them in, knowing Wyzett, he'd probably try to help by carrying them through the door—and then he'd find you."
"He would indeed. He's a very good child." Dumbledore gave a gentle smile, setting the unconscious toads on the desk.
Snape flicked his wand, and three glass jars appeared out of thin air, covering each toad.
Dumbledore picked up two jars. "I'll take these two and see what effects those potions have."
"The results are predictable…" Snape gestured to the toad beside the potion equipment. "It'll be imbued with certain traits—traits that belong to Wyzett."
He thought back to the Christmas holidays, when toads that had been knocked out by potion testing would, upon waking, start behaving more and more like Wyzett himself.
They became calm, harmless, filled with curiosity about their surroundings, poking at potion tools, gazing at the world with wide, wondering eyes.
Returning to the present, Snape continued, "This means… his soul is so abundant that it can directly influence others through certain potions. That's my assessment."
Dumbledore nodded, clearly impressed. "Based on your observations and what I just saw, I'd say the same. Remarkable… truly remarkable!"
"It means his soul is so full, it overflows—like a spring bubbling up from the earth… I've never seen anything like it. Who is he, really?"
Snape murmured, his voice low, "With all your resources, you still can't trace Wyzett's true origins?"
"Nor the dark wizard's," Dumbledore sighed. "It's as if they both appeared out of thin air…"
"Someone must be hiding the truth, and hiding it well. There's not a single flaw to be found. It could take years to uncover the slightest clue…"
"Origins aren't what matter." Snape glanced at the new potion kit. "What matters is—what was that dark wizard hoping to achieve by tormenting Wyzett like that?"
"I can't say…" Dumbledore mused. "I had St. Mungo's run every test. Wyzett has no lingering injuries—every trace of dark magic was healed by Fawkes."
Snape asked suddenly, "But what about his soul?"
"Even with Legilimency, it's nearly impossible to probe the soul itself," Dumbledore replied. "You're a master of Legilimency yourself—you know that as well as I do."
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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