Chapter 133: Impedimenta
Impedimenta.
It was a jinx, but an exceptionally practical one.
"Casting the Impediment Jinx quickly can delay an opponent for a moment or halt a magical creature's advance for a moment. This jinx is a crucial part of wizard duelling."
That was how Miranda Goshawk described it in The Standard Book of Spells.
The spell lasted roughly ten‑odd seconds, temporarily slowing a target. It could even freeze a wasp in mid‑air.
Professor Snape's test subject was a wasp. In a voice like damp rot he said, "If you fail, Shawn Green, perhaps a little pain will make you clearer‑headed."
Shawn nodded, not noticing the wand clenched tight beneath Snape's robes.
"Impedimenta!"
Blue‑white sparks burst from the tip of Shawn's wand. The wasp, which had been hurtling at him at full speed, stopped dead.
[You practised the Impediment Jinx once at Expert standard, Proficiency +50]
[You practised the Impediment Jinx once at Expert standard, Proficiency +50]
…
[Impediment Jinx: Proficient (110/3000)]
[A new Dark Arts domain title has been unlocked]
Compared to other branches of magic, Shawn always seemed to break through fastest in the Dark Arts.
One hour was enough to push his Dark Arts from Apprentice to Proficient…
Sometimes Shawn felt as if he was not casting Dark spells at all, but that Dark magic was simply running out through his wand on its own.
His heart held no strong "malice," yet the force of Dark magic in his hands never seemed weak.
"Ha. Consider yourself lucky, Green," Snape said, watching Shawn sag with fatigue. With a flick of his wand, the wasp, which had been trying to attack again, vanished.
"Take this."
Snape tossed him a small booklet. Shawn glanced back and saw his letter set in one compartment of the glass cabinet.
But when he blinked, the letter and the little vial were gone.
Had his eyes played tricks?
Shawn wondered.
"What are you still standing there for? Waiting for potion ingredients to process themselves and leap into the cauldron?!" Snape's anger surged again.
The cauldron vented thick white steam like a locomotive, then the vapour thinned into the drifting snow.
The Guidance Method notes in Shawn's hands were crammed with dense scribbles. Snape, for once, added no mockery; he only corrected them with ruthless precision.
He also added a new potion: the Elixir to Induce Euphoria. It appeared in Master Libatius Borage's Advanced Potion‑Making, material normally reserved for fifth‑years, and far beyond Shawn's level for now.
But Shawn noticed something at once. This recipe came with Master Libatius Borage's refined improvement ritual and a complete Guidance Method. On the surface Snape's task looked impossible, yet he had still left a narrow strip of hope.
"Brewing potions even a troll could manage is enough to satisfy you, is it?" Snape sneered.
The Elixir to Induce Euphoria was advanced potion work; its difficulty was beyond dispute. Fortunately, with the improvement ritual and Guidance Method, there was still a path he could follow.
[You brewed a full cauldron of the Elixir to Induce Euphoria at Apprentice standard, Proficiency +1]
[Elixir to Induce Euphoria: Locked (1/30)]
"What did you do?!" Snape's voice rang out at the same moment as the panel chime.
Then his vicious gaze swept over Shawn, and he forcibly reined himself in.
"Get out."
Shawn realised what had happened. Without thinking, he had dropped in a tiny sprig of peppermint.
When his will sank deep enough, his movements came almost entirely from instinct. Only after adding it did he remember the story behind that peppermint.
It was Snape's own invention, written in the Half‑Blood Prince's notes.
Shawn tidied the workbench as usual, wrapped his scarf tighter, and left the dungeon.
Before he even reached the corridor outside, he realised there were ten Galleons in his hand.
"Ha."
From deep within the dungeon came Snape's cold, shadowed laugh.
…
Snape watched Shawn go, then drifted into a daze he could not explain.
The boy's talent for Potions was showing itself more clearly every day. Snape was certain this fool did not have his notes.
As if remembering something, Snape's complicated gaze turned faintly nostalgic.
In the corridor,
Shawn's Quick‑Quotes Quill scratched on without pause.
[Alchemy's core pursuit may be more complex than it first appears, and far less materialistic.
It has three stages: the Black Stage, the White Stage, and the Red Stage.
The first step of Alchemy is dissolution, commonly called the Black Stage.
The second step, turning lead into gold, is the White Stage.
The third step, the final stage, is the Red Stage.
As the flame intensifies, a sacred red light stains the white stone a beautiful crimson... and the whitening substance turning red is often compared to being dyed with blood.]
And Potions?
When Shawn's will sank into the mist rising from the cauldron, he felt old matter fading, changing, and finally shedding its skin.
A powerful intuition told him that even in Alchemy, this kind of instinct would hold true.
So he found the passage with ease in Metaphors of Alchemy: The Four Elements.
[One interpretation of the "instructions" left by alchemists is that they symbolise a spiritual journey, guiding the alchemist from ignorance (base metal) to enlightenment (gold).]
Was brewing a potion not the same journey, from ignorance (ordinary ingredients) to enlightenment (a magical draught)?
At last, Shawn understood the thread binding Potions and Alchemy at their roots. Once he grasped it, his progress in Alchemy became dizzyingly fast.
In only two days, he followed the twins' notes and produced a floating quill.
When he used that sensed force of will to guide alchemical magic, the only thing left to consider was where to find the Weasley twins.
As his Alchemy advanced, his focus returned to Potions.
Snape had not only taught him the Elixir to Induce Euphoria; in passing, he had also pointed out other potions in Libatius Borage's work that came with improved rituals.
The Draught of Peace and the Antidote were among Master Libatius Borage's final recorded experiments.
Once Shawn could draw enough experience from those improvement rituals, that unorthodox knowledge would truly pass into his hands.
On a night of snow and rain, Shawn sat by the window and watched a raven cut across the dark.
[When the portrait of Zygmunt Budge on the island of Hermetra woke from its sleep, centuries had already flown past, yet truth remained unchanged.
So the pilgrims understood that within the cauldron still lay the secrets of all magic.
Will you be the last pilgrim, Shawn Green?]