Chapter 62: Learning Wolfsbane Potion
"What is this?" Draco asked curiously, looking at the black thing stuffed in Hermione's ear with a thin wire attached to it, a bit like the "retractable ears" prank gadget developed by Fred and George.
They were sitting on a carved bench in a corner of the infirmary courtyard. They had some free time before going to Mr. Slughorn to study Potions, so they came here to cool off in the summer heat.
The blue night is quiet, the lights on the lawn are twinkling, and the fragrance of roses is noisy.
"Oh, these are headphones made by Muggles. They're a gift from my grandfather." Hermione took off one of the black round things and handed it to Draco.
The round black thing has some evenly spaced tiny holes on it, and "SONY" is written on the back.
"What is this? The name of a Muggle manufacturer?" Draco guessed. He saw that the thin black line finally connected to a small black square box, a bit like a miniature radio. It also had "SONY" written on it.
"Yes. Do you want to give it a try?" Hermione said with interest. "Put it in your ear and you'll hear music. The sound quality is pretty good."
"I doubt it. It won't bite my ear, will it?" Draco looked at it doubtfully, and tried to put it in his ear reluctantly, imitating Hermione's example.
As soon as he put on this black gadget, a beautiful melody came into Draco's ears, followed by a gentle and affectionate male voice:
" Met you by surprise ,
I didn't
realize
that my
life would change forever, saw you standing there
, I didn't know I 'd care, there was something special in the air.
Draco was amazed. This stubborn little thing could produce a sound with the quality and texture of a large trumpet-shaped phonograph, which was obviously not comparable to a radio.
He glanced at the girl next to him in surprise. She was sitting on the bench next to him, smiling back at him with a hint of smugness in her eyes, and making an "I told you so" expression.
"Dreams
are my reality,
the only kind of
real fantasy,
illusions are a
common thing, I try to live in dreams,
it seems as if it's meant to be.
Under her smug look, Draco listened attentively, initially only paying attention to the sound quality, and then slowly paying attention to the melody and lyrics of the song itself.
"Dreams
are my reality,
a different kind of
reality, I dream of loving in the night,
and loving seems alright, although it's only fantasy.
Sharing Muggle headphones on a bench with Hermione Granger, listening to a Muggle song together, was clearly completely insane.
Some barely usable Muggle gadget, Draco thought.
But it's a good song. Maybe that explains his erratic behavior and thoughts at the moment.
"What's the name of this song?" Draco asked softly, with a dazed look on his face.
"Reality. It's the theme song from a Muggle movie, sung by Richard Sanderson," Hermione said dreamily.
She was obviously immersed in the song, and was leaning her head on the back of the bench innocently, looking up at the stars in the sky with a smile.
"If
you do exist ,
honey
don't resist,
show me a new way of loving
,
tell me that
it's true, show me what to do,
I feel something special about you."
Leaning on the bench instead of sitting upright was not in line with the etiquette that Draco had been required to learn by Narcissa since he was a child.
But for some reason, perhaps because the lyrics were so touching and the melody was so beautiful, he seemed to be bewitched. He imitated Hermione and stretched his entire back against the bench, leaning his platinum head against the backrest and looking up at the vast night sky.
He found that this posture was strangely relaxing and comfortable, as if a certain burden had temporarily slipped from his back.
"Dreams are
my reality,
the only kind of
reality, maybe my foolishness
is past, and maybe now at last, I'll see how the real thing can be.
The night breeze blew, bringing with it a burst of fresh fragrance. Draco couldn't help but look back at the source of the fragrance, and found that she was closing her eyes, immersed in the singing.
But he didn't dare to breathe loudly, for fear of startling the song and the dream.
"Dreams
are my reality,
a wondrous world where
I like to be, I dream
of holding
you all night,
and holding
you seems right,
perhaps
that's my reality."
Another interlude. Hermione felt the night breeze and suddenly felt happy. She turned around, wanting to say something to Draco, but found his face right next to hers.
She smiled lazily. He must have liked the song very much, because his gray eyes were so bright now.
" Met you by surprise , I didn't realize,
that my life would change forever, tell me that it's true, feelings that are new, I feel something special about you .
Just as she looked at him, his eyes caught hers sharply and met hers.
Those smiling eyes suddenly enveloped her like a gentle night breeze.
Hermione's smile dropped abruptly. She felt herself stiffen.
Just like when he was stirring the potion with Mr. Slughorn, the feeling of being surrounded by him and the feeling of being in a state of confusion suddenly returned.
This makes absolutely no sense.
This song wasn't supposed to come across as stiff or confusing to anyone.
"Dreams
are my reality,
a wondrous world where
I like to be,
illusions are a common thing
, I try
to
live in dreams, although
it's
only fantasy.
The lyrics flowed through her ears like honey, and he was still staring at her.
His expression changed from a rare relaxed look to a serious one, as if she was dealing with some major potion project that required his help.
Hermione knew that the idea was nonsense. He probably wasn't studying her.
He was probably trying to discern the lyrics, or marveling at the enormous capabilities of these small headphones.
It has absolutely nothing to do with her.
"Dreams are
my reality ,
I like to dream of
you close to me, I dream
of
loving in the night,
and
loving you seems right, perhaps that's my reality
.
When the song ended, Draco stood up straight, stopped staring at her, took off his headphones and silently returned them to her.
He saw her face change suddenly - from smiling to stiff - starting from the moment she looked him in the eye.
The stiffness was enough to make his smile a joke. They were just friends. That was all.
"Just because she trusts you doesn't mean she likes you," Draco said to himself. "She's already starting to feel uncomfortable. You're getting too close."
I have to keep a distance, a distance that she's comfortable with, a distance that won't make her suddenly stiffen.
Honestly, she's only here temporarily, and will be gone in a few days. Don't scare her anymore. Cherish every moment we have together; there aren't many seconds left to waste, he thought wistfully.
Hermione blankly spread out her palm to take it, and the moment his fingertips touched her palm, she felt that the headphones seemed to be leaking a faint electricity.
"It sounds good." He suppressed the bitterness in his heart and said, "Do you want to go back and drink some water?"
"Ah, yes, indeed... I'm a little thirsty." She murmured, planning to go to the Muggle audio-visual store another day to check whether the headphones had any leakage problems.
The boy and the girl stood up from the bench and walked quickly towards the corridor, silent all the way.
To break the awkward atmosphere, Draco cleared his throat and asked her, "What are your plans next?"
"I plan to stay in Bath longer. I mean, that's Mr. Slughorn, what a rare learning opportunity, isn't it?" Hermione's eyes immediately lit up when she mentioned studying.
"Didn't you originally plan to stay for only a few days?" Draco asked her, surprised.
"I want to wait until the Felicis Felix is brewed before I think about anything else," said Hermione cheerfully.
"The preparation of the Felix Felicis potion will not be completed until a month later. Have you really made up your mind? What about your trip to France?" Draco asked doubtfully.
"I've persuaded Mom and Dad to postpone our trip to France. Mom's fine, but Dad seems a little disappointed – he had planned to use the entire July to travel around the south of France, buy some tripe from the French butcher's stall we went to last time, or visit the small towns, historical sites, plants and so on... Grandfather is particularly happy, he always hopes that we can stay with him for a long time..." Hermione complained half-seriously, but her expression was very happy.
"Yeah, I can't imagine anyone happier than your grandfather." He whispered, and the corners of his mouth couldn't help but rise slightly.
It was exactly three days after they had brewed their first potion. After a quick drink, they went to Mr. Slughorn's potion-making room to continue their work.
After picking the petals from a pot of amaranth, Hermione prepared to add 23 fresh amaranth petals to the surface of the potion.
"Children, don't throw all the petals in at once," Slughorn reminded with a smile. "We have to add them one by one, and wait until the petal settles to the bottom before adding the next one. Do you know why we do this?"
"So I can better observe the potion changing color?" Hermione asked hesitantly.
"We're getting close to the correct answer. Any more explanation?" Slughorn looked at Draco.
Draco glanced at the pot of amaranth that was half bare. He pondered, "Although amaranth flowers are small, it doesn't mean that their petals are uniform in size. So we need to decide whether to add a little more or a little less based on the color change of the potion..."
The chubby old man clapped his hands and said cheerfully, "That's right! The more vague the quantitative description, the more flexibility is needed through observation of the potion. Due to the passage of time, we no longer know the size of the amaranth flowers used in the first batch of the Felixir, and the sizes of the related ingredients have also undergone slight variations. This is when errors often begin to appear."
He watched the boy and girl's eyes light up for a moment, knowing they understood his meaning. He continued seriously, "In this sense, the ingredients required for each batch of Fuling Potion are unique, and each brewing requires careful observation. Therefore, we must be extremely careful with descriptions like 'a few grains' or 'a few petals'."
The two nodded, feeling very happy with this tip.
A delicate potion like this really didn't allow for any carelessness. Draco and Hermione leaned their heads against each other, taking turns dropping petals in and watching intently as they slowly settled in the red liquid.
When they added it to the 22nd petal, they were surprised to find that the liquid had turned green.
Slughorn was not surprised by this. "I expected so. The petals are indeed a little larger than usual. We're in the amaranth season, when they're at their peak, and the weather is perfect for them this year. If it were winter, I'd probably have to add a few more petals."
Draco noticed that Hermione was writing something rapidly in the small notebook she carried with her.
Typical Hermione Granger, as thirsty for knowledge as ever.
"The work from now on will be much easier. It won't be very strenuous. Just observe the potion's condition every night and stir it seven times clockwise and twice counterclockwise. It will take a long time, though, 25 days." Slughorn sat in his favorite armchair, sipping the oak-brewed mead that Draco had recently given him, and said with a cheerful face, "It's a bit boring during this period. Are there any other potions you're interested in that you'd like to learn from me?"
"Any potions?" Hermione asked curiously.
"As long as I can." Slughorn blinked at them with his round eyes.
What else could this little girl ask?
Could anything be more troublesome than Draco's request for Felicis Felix? Slughorn thought complacently.
"Well, sir, I want to learn how to prepare the wolfsbane potion. I've seen this potion in the textbook for next school year, and it's said to be very difficult to make." Hermione said eagerly.
This suggestion made Slughorn cough, but his eyes contained a look of admiration. "You're going to learn about werewolves next school year, right?"
Seeing Hermione nod, he couldn't help but laugh. "Hermione, you really know how to give an old man like me a difficult problem! My students are so tricky, always picking difficult potions to learn from me!"
He patted his bald forehead exaggeratedly, not angry, but rather looking a little smug. "Since you mentioned this potion, you should also know who invented it, right?"
"Wolfsbane Potion was invented by Damocles Belby in the 1970s, during the First Wizarding War." Of course Hermione would give the correct answer.
"Yes, Damocles Belby. Perhaps I haven't mentioned that he's also one of my favorite students, a brilliant wizard, very brilliant. He absolutely deserves the Order of Merlin." Slughorn relished this. "I bet he spent quite a bit of time on this potion."
"Regarding this, sir, I believe his achievement is inseparable from the guidance of you, the Potions Master." Draco praised him in time, adding fuel to Slughorn's desire to express himself and vanity.
Hearing this, Slughorn couldn't help showing a little proud look. He slowly stroked his velvet smoking jacket, his light green eyes sparkling in the dim potion room.
"In recent years, not many wizards have studied wolfsbane potion, because it is rarely used by ordinary wizards. Fortunately, I discussed the development of the potion with Damocles a long time ago, and later wrote to Severus to study related improvement methods. Moreover, looking at the wizarding world, there are not many people who can gather those rare materials like me." He said slowly, as if whetting people's appetite.
Draco and Hermione looked at each other - it looked like there was something going on.
However, Slughorn changed the subject, and the smugness on his face turned into caution. "However, before you understand the Wolfsbane Potion, you must first learn how to prepare the Pain Reliever, Enhancer, and Tranquilizer. These are relatively simple to prepare and form the basis for improving the Wolfsbane Potion."
Relatively simple? No one could call these three potions simple. Any one of them was as difficult as an OWL exam! Draco muttered to himself.
Hermione was already holding her breath, listening carefully to Slughorn's introduction. The teaching of the Wolfsbane Potion had begun from that moment on.
Draco had to admit that Hermione's suggestion was very much to his liking.
With his real ability in potions, if there were any complicated potions that he was willing to spend time and effort to learn, Wolfsbane Potion would definitely be at the top of the list.
Werewolves will always be another nightmare in Draco Malfoy's heart.
He had never forgotten the fanged, hideous face of Fenrir Greyback, the werewolf leader. He remembered it as the one who had captured Hermione and taken them to Malfoy Manor. He'd even thought about eating her, the filthy creature!
Although Draco had always liked to claim that Greyback was a friend of his family in his previous life, in reality, this was just a means of intimidating others. He hated Greyback from the bottom of his heart. He hated werewolves from the bottom of his heart.
Being a werewolf is always full of risks - a transformed werewolf doesn't recognize anyone but their own family - Draco would never think of getting close to any werewolf or making friends with them. That would be tantamount to seeking death.
Slytherins hated risk, and Draco declined any risk.
Then again, Draco hadn't forgotten Remus Lupin, the incoming Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher in his third year. Even though he looked gentle, he was a werewolf.
I really don't understand what old man Dumbledore was thinking, allowing a werewolf, such a dangerous species, to be a professor at Hogwarts.
Don't we need to consider the personal safety of so many innocent students?
Yet, Remus Lupin was indeed different. He had never been on the Dark Lord's side. He was the only werewolf to side with Dumbledore. In his past life, he had never harmed anyone at Hogwarts. Now that he thought about it, Lupin disappeared every full moon, perhaps hiding somewhere to transform—like the Forbidden Forest.
Another possibility is that Professor Snape, the Hogwarts Potions Master, brewed wolfsbane potion for him, allowing him to maintain his human form and hide somewhere very weakly, waiting for the full moon night to pass.
Draco pondered these possibilities in his mind, watching the little witch in front of him carefully recording Slughorn's words, and was lost in thought.
The next month was busy and fulfilling.
Hermione no longer had to stay up until midnight to get home; simply mixing the potion took no time at all.
She was usually back at her grandfather's house by nine-thirty—Draco usually took on the responsibility of taking her home.
Hermione's grandfather would sometimes watch the boy through the window from the soft leather armchair in the living room.
The boy always dressed neatly and would send her to her door on time. He would stand patiently at the iron gate and say goodbye to her for about a quarter of an hour.
"You go first." The brown-haired girl put her hands behind her back and often kicked a small stone on the ground.
"You first." The boy with platinum blond hair often put his hands in his trouser pockets and spoke lazily.
"I want to see you leave before you come in." At this time, the girl would raise her head, with a hint of willfulness in her tone.
"No, I promised Monica that I would walk you until you get in." The boy said stubbornly, tilting his head to look at her.
"I'm already inside the door," she said helplessly, a little mad at his persistence.
"You didn't enter the house." He still didn't let go, and a quick smile flashed across the corner of his mouth.
The same scene seemed to be repeated every day. It became a little boring, but they still enjoyed it.
Eventually, the old man lost interest in watching their movements and eavesdropping on their conversations.
Three times a week during the day, the boy would ring the doorbell and take her to study with the retired teacher named "Slughorn".
The old man was puzzled: "Hermione, does a child like you also need summer tutoring courses?"
"Of course, learning never ends!" his granddaughter said enthusiastically.
She always waited in the living room early, looking out the window at the sky tirelessly, fearing that a sudden rain in Bath would wet the boy's neat clothes.
Three times a week, they would learn the preparation of advanced potions such as moderates, enhancers, and tranquilizers from Mr. Slughorn.
The difficulty of preparing this kind of potion is quite high for a wizard who is about to be in the third grade.
"A tranquilizer is a potion used to calm and relieve irritable and anxious emotions..." Hermione's clear voice answered Slughorn's question.
"Indeed, you weren't supposed to learn it until your fifth year. It often appears in Ordinary Wizarding Levels (OWLs), and students always complain that it's difficult to prepare. But I imagine that with your abilities, it's just a matter of a bit of fiddling," said Slughorn, suddenly clapping his hands in delight. "Then, let's get started! This time, you'll work separately, turning the cooperative relationship into a competitive one. How about a competition?"
It would be naive to believe the Potions Master's words that "it takes a little fiddling" were true. Even a wizard like Draco, who had already experienced the OWLs, still had a headache with this potion.
The preparation of this potion demands unparalleled precision. The ingredients must be added to the cauldron in a precise order and in exact quantities. The mixture must be stirred a prescribed number of times, neither more nor less, first clockwise, then counterclockwise. The flame must be brought to a specific boiling point, neither higher nor lower, and maintained for a specific period of time.
But Hermione, a real 13-year-old wizard, said nothing and persevered. She carefully added the last ingredient to the crucible, and a light, silvery steam immediately emerged from the crucible.
"How did you do it?" Draco was a little surprised and couldn't help asking her, "You succeeded in one try?"
"Didn't you succeed once too?" She turned her head and looked at him suspiciously. "Why, do you look down on girls? Don't you believe I can do it?"
But he didn't succeed the first time. In his previous life, the first time he brewed the demulcent, he only got a lump of dough. But this was her first time.
"I don't mean to look down on you. You're very capable, much more capable than me." Draco wiped the sweat from his forehead in the rising steam and saw a small expression of pride on her face.
"You're amazing too," she said with a smile, accepting his compliment. "I think we're both amazing. Don't listen to Mr. Slughorn. We've never been rivals, but partners."
"Partner?" He couldn't help but smile at her.
"Of course. My best study partner!" she said happily, smiling at him. "A very precious study partner, it's hard to find another one in the world."
"Right." He didn't know whether to be happy or disappointed. He could only lower his head and start filling the bottle of the palliative, mumbling to himself, "I'm satisfied with just this. It's good."
That evening, Slughorn had them all over for dinner in his dining room again, and Draco found that the better they performed at brewing the potion, the more he found himself in conversation.
After a few meals, they were already familiar with the names of many of Slughorn's students.
For example, Dirk Cresswell, the director of the Goblin Liaison Office, was also a Muggle-born student, and Slughorn believed that he had excellent qualifications.
Another example is Barnabas Cuffe, editor of the Daily Prophet, who is always interested in hearing Slughorn's views on current affairs.
They also learned that Ambrosio Froome of Honeydukes sent Slughorn a gift basket every year on his birthday, and that Gwenog Jones, captain of the Holyhead Harpies, often gave Slughorn free tickets to matches.
Slughorn would often tentatively ask about Harry Potter's recent situation. They were not surprised by this. Whether it was because of Harry's mother Lily Evans or Harry's own legendary experience of surviving a disaster, he would not let go of such a "dazzling student".
Draco and Hermione both chose to tell him only the parts that were known to the public, such as that Harry was the youngest Seeker in the academy, that he was very popular in the school, and that he bravely rescued the students trapped in the Chamber of Secrets.
Slughorn listened with great interest, occasionally uttering exaggerated exclamations.
"We never understood why Professor Snape hated him so much." When Slughorn was drunk, Hermione happened to talk about Professor Snape's attitude towards Harry and couldn't help showing a puzzled expression, "Harry has never done anything to offend Professor Snape."
Draco raised his head lazily, listening without much expectation – how could anyone possibly know what Professor Snape, a highly skilled Occlumency master, was really thinking?
"Oh, I happen to know a little." Slughorn leaned back in his chair, slightly drunk, and said incoherently, "At school, James Potter and Severus never got along, and in the end he married Lily... She can be considered Severus's childhood sweetheart."
Draco and Hermione looked at each other quickly, and found the earthquake in each other's pupils.
"I can't believe that Professor Snape had such a past." As they walked side by side on a moonlit cobblestone road, Hermione couldn't help but speak out, breaking the quiet atmosphere.
This was the road Draco took Hermione home. At this moment, the streets were deserted and there were not many tourists.
"I'm shocked too. This explains so many questions, such as why Professor Snape never uses hair smoothing spray..." Draco hadn't recovered from the shocking gossip just now.
"I don't quite understand what you mean." Hermione's face was full of question marks. "What does this have to do with fast-smoothing hair spray? Aren't you thinking too divergently?"
"The fast-smoothing hair spray was invented by Harry's grandfather, Fremont Potter. He certainly wouldn't support his rival's family's business." Draco explained.
"That makes sense," Hermione said, stunned. "But I didn't think about this from the perspective of profit or industry. Although it makes sense, I don't think that's the point."
"What's the point? Professor Snape doesn't hate Harry, but through Harry, he hates James Potter, who looks almost exactly like him?" Draco asked incisively.
"Yeah, I think so. I think he's a bit of a hater," said Hermione.
Harry, this unfortunate kid... Draco couldn't help but feel a little sympathy for him.
"It's best not to make this known to everyone," Draco said after a pause, "if you don't want Professor Snape to poison your pumpkin juice."
"I agree. It's better not to mention such old stories. However, I might mention it to Harry," Hermione said thoughtfully. She looked at the boy's mysterious face in the moonlight. "By the way, Draco, what do you think Professor Snape felt about Harry's mother?"
"I don't know," Draco said softly, blinking nervously.
"Maybe he will hate her. After all, she married her enemy. This is a betrayal to Professor Snape, right?" Hermione asked relentlessly.
"But do you remember when Professor Snape cast a protective spell against Quirrell during a Quidditch match in first year?" Draco said, unable to resist glancing at her. "Later, I looked up some information and learned that protective spells like that consume a lot of magical energy. If overused, they can cause irreversible damage to a wizard's magical energy."
Not surprisingly, he saw Hermione's slightly surprised expression. He paused, staring into her eyes, which shone in the moonlight, and said gently, "If you truly hated someone, you wouldn't go to such great lengths to save her son, would you?"
"So, you think he loves her?" Hermione asked, looking into his usually indifferent grey eyes, which she always felt were gleaming with a hint of tenderness.
Her words made Draco stunned.
like?
He suddenly thought of Professor Snape's perpetually gloomy, bad-tempered, and stern face, as if he had never understood what love was.
If he had ever loved her, then all of Severus Snape's expressionless, awkward, eccentric and self-enclosed behaviors, those confusing "embarrassing on the surface but protecting in secret" behaviors, seemed to finally have a reasonable explanation.
"It's hard to say. But I think he probably never wanted her to die." After a long silence, Draco lowered his eyes and stared at the pale, uneven cobblestones.
"I'm talking about love, and you're talking about death. I really don't understand the thoughts of you Slytherins!" Hermione was very disappointed. She looked at him for a while, but the boy stubbornly refused to look up at her. So she shook her head and continued walking forward.
Draco followed her silently.
Love.
Put yourself in his shoes, what if he loves her.
He could probably accept the fact that "she didn't love him" reluctantly, bitterly and painfully, but he could never accept that "she would die".
And he died at the hands of his own master.
If that day ever comes, I will be willing to betray the Dark Lord.
Draco slowed down his pace on the thin and nervous street, watching her unaware figure walking briskly forward, and couldn't help but think.