After Mrs. Stewart and her grandmother had shared their opinions, Sigrid stretched out on the big bed. Her thoughts drifted to the Sorting Ceremony that awaited her, and, before long, she slipped into sleep.
In her dream, her brother Allen gently patted her head and introduced her to a circle of classmates."This is my sister, Sigrid," he announced proudly. "She'll be joining us as a junior at the college!"
The young wizards around them looked up from their OWL papers, their faces bright with welcome. Some handed her sheets of parchment with encouraging smiles."Welcome to Ravenclaw! Come and solve problems with us, Sigrid!"
Sigrid wrinkled her nose in protest. I don't want to go to school just to do homework.
No way!
She turned over, frowning, and fell deeper into sleep.
Grandma's Beauty Potion Notes
The next morning, after breakfast, Grandmother beckoned Sigrid to her side.
"My dear Xi'er, I have a birthday present for you," she said, her eyes glittering like starlight. "It is the most precious treasure of my life—and I know you will love it."
"Dolly," she called, "fetch the notebook from my dressing-case drawer in the basement."
With a soft pop, the house-elf appeared. "At once, good mistress!" And with another flash, he was gone.
Less than a minute later, a slim, timeworn diary was placed in Sigrid's hands.
"It's a pity I only had your father," Grandmother murmured, more to herself than to anyone else. "This diary has gathered dust for over half a century. At last, it belongs to my beautiful little girl."
Her smile warmed as she turned to Sigrid. "Inside are the beauty potions I've researched and refined since my student years. Ten of them are complete, with full recipes. You'll have plenty of time to explore them during your seven years at school."
Sigrid remembered what her father had once said: her grandmother's great obsession had always been beauty potions. She had pursued potion-making so fervently that she once consumed incompatible ingredients, which caused her body to deteriorate too quickly. Yet her passion was so strong that her soul endured, transforming her into a living portrait.
A pang of sadness touched Sigrid's heart—quickly replaced by curiosity as she opened the diary.
On the very first page, in neat but fading ink, were the words:
"Whenever I brew these beauty potions, I feel as though I am reborn."
From there, the diary unveiled an astonishing collection of recipes—each more imaginative than the last:
Primary Beauty Potion 1: Radiant GlowGrants a luminous aura that makes you the center of attention. Effect lasts 7–14 days.
Primary Beauty Potion 2: Flowing HairYour hair becomes as smooth as a mermaid's, like strands of silk.
Primary Beauty Potion 3: Creamy SkinPores vanish, leaving skin as flawless as butterbeer froth.
Intermediate Beauty Potion 4: Radiant GazeEyes sparkle with charm, subtly enhancing persuasion.
Intermediate Beauty Potion 5: Slender HandsElegant wand movements, boosting spell success.
Intermediate Beauty Potion 6: Fresh ScentFrom breath to tears—even farts become fragrant.
Advanced Beauty Potion 7: Perfect CurvesA potion for elegance of figure and bearing.
Advanced Beauty Potion 8: Intimate CareEnhances allure in private encounters.
Advanced Beauty Potion 9: Postpartum RecoveryRestores the body's youthful smoothness after childbirth.
Advanced Beauty Potion 10: Wrinkle SmoothingPreserves a youthful face, erasing time's marks.
Sigrid turned the fragile pages one by one, her solemn expression melting into incredulous amusement.
These potions completely overturn what I thought beauty magic was about!
Not just skin and hair—even one's figure? She instinctively glanced down at her own flat chest.
What in Merlin's name is "intimate care"? And… negative distance exercise? Should I even ask?
Her cheeks warmed. Hold it in, Syl, hold it in…
Postpartum recovery? But I haven't even had my first kiss! I'm still a baby myself!
As for wrinkle-smoothing—she was only eleven years and one day old. Wrinkles were still a lifetime away.
Yet, no matter how odd or outlandish the formulas grew, she couldn't tear her eyes away. The first six recipes alone filled her with an irresistible urge to try. If only she had a cauldron at hand, she would have started brewing that very moment.