Ron should thank Fang for not having a habit of eating late-night snacks. Being happy-go-lucky and thick-skinned, Ron slept soundly last night, tossing the weird occurrence during dinner completely out of his mind. At night, his snoring was loud, interspersed with the murmuring sounds of smacking lips.
Early Sunday morning, Lynn left the dormitory. The herbs he had gathered needed processing. Fortunately, he had learned to multitask while using telekinesis; the invisible force acted like an octopus, and with the efficiency of seven hands and eight feet, he quickly finished the work at hand.
By the time he went down to the Great Hall, it was just when the young wizards were coming downstairs for breakfast.
"Sigurd!"
Lynn had only been seated for a few minutes when the morning owl post arrived. Carrying a huge package, Sigurd flew over, struggling slightly with the weight.
"Thanks for your hard work, Sigurd!"
Lynn rubbed Sigurd's small head and fished out a few owl treats to place by its beak. But the little guy was quite a picky eater; after one bite of the dry food, it set its sights on Lynn's fried egg. With a swipe of its little claw, it buried its head and started gnawing, occasionally rinsing its mouth with Lynn's milk.
"You rascal."
Considering Sigurd had brought the potion ingredients he ordered today, Lynn could only indulgently smooth its feathers and let it eat.
"Sigurd seems to have gained weight."
Reaching out to vigorously fluff up Sigurd, Harley let out a somewhat lecherous giggle: "Hehehe, it's so warm in there, let me touch the belly, Sigurd..."
"Goo-goo-gah-gah~"
Sigurd, feathers ruffled from the aggressive petting, shook its body in disgust. After grabbing the unfinished fried egg, it also swiped a boiled egg Lynn had already peeled, flapped its wings, and took off.
"Stingy thing. Hedwig is better."
Harley pouted. Naturally, Sigurd, who would be able to list goshawks on its menu once fully grown, was much more arrogant.
"Even Hedwig would get ruffled if you messed with her like that, okay?"
Lynn grabbed a fresh glass of milk, glug-glug-glugged it down, and gave her a flick on the forehead.
"Lynn, you're bullying Harley again."
Cho, having finished her breakfast, walked up to Lynn and slapped his hand away.
"A knock every now and then promotes brain development."
"It does not," Harley shook her head. "It's just that you hold grudges, so you've led Sigurd astray."
"If I have a grudge, I take revenge on the spot. How could I possibly hold onto it?"
Just as Lynn stood up to say goodbye and leave, a commotion spread from the Gryffindor table.
"Blergh~~~"
A loud retching sound rang out, accompanied by a figure propping himself up on the table, vomiting profusely.
Ron, who had forgotten everything about yesterday, had been eating breakfast happily, even contemplating which lucky victim would get to experience his chess mastery later. Then, that strange feeling returned.
Initially, Ron didn't mind too much. After all, having the taste of savory stew appear in his mouth while eating breakfast wasn't exactly bad. But just as he finished his second sandwich, a second meat pie, a glass of pumpkin juice, and a DIY ham and cheese burger, an indescribable taste assaulted his mouth.
"It's shit! It's shit!!!"
After vomiting, Ron screamed. His pupils were dilated, and his gaze was glazed over. Although he had fallen into a trance, his voice remained loud.
"There's shit in the breakfast!!!"
His declaration scared the listening young wizards so much that knives and forks dropped to the floor all around, everyone turning their gaze toward him.
But compared to Ron, the fat rat rolling around on the Gryffindor table, screaming and starting to spray liquid, was even more eye-catching. This abstract scene of owner and pet performing together was truly a first for everyone.
"It's bitter and smelly, a bit musky, and sticky—it pastes the mouth shut!"
"Blergh~~~~"
"Why is there liquid too..."
Ron, whose face had turned green, knelt on the floor. The experience was so real—as if he had just eaten it with his own mouth—that his brain instantly turned into paste. The words he blurted out instinctively didn't even pass through a filter.
The young wizards who heard this "review" instantly felt sick. It's fine if you ate it, but why did you have to describe the taste and texture?
"Seems like there's fodder too! It's horse manure!"
Suddenly looking up, Ron smacked his lips for some unknown reason.
"It's actually a bit sweet?"
This outrageous remark made the students in the Great Hall explode. They avoided the filth-surrounded Ron like the plague, pinching their noses and booking it. Even his own brothers—Percy, Fred, and George—stayed far away, their faces blushing red as monkeys' butts out of sheer embarrassment.
"Can't stay in the Hall anymore, I'm out of here—"
Lynn, a bit panicked, didn't go to the Room of Requirement to brew potions. Instead, he rushed out of the castle doors, left the grounds, and used a teleport spell to appear directly in front of Hagrid's hut.
"Fang! Stop eating shit—Holy crap! So much shit! A mountain of shit!"
Hearing Lynn's shout, Fang looked up. Turning his head at the same time was Hagrid, who was holding a large dung fork.
"What are you doing, Hagrid?"
Lynn pointed at the dung fork in Hagrid's hand and asked cautiously.
"Oh, this," Hagrid waved his hand nonchalantly. "Need to prepare pumpkins for Halloween. Although magic can make pumpkins grow very large, the fertilizer must be good. I have to start processing the fertilizer now. You can't use it fresh; it needs to be mixed and fermented for a while. Adding a bit of unicorn manure makes it even better. I've done this for decades. Every year the Halloween pumpkins are huge and excellent."
"Didn't I feed you this morning? Fang, why are you stealing food again? Shoo, shoo! Don't ask me to open the door for you tonight when you get diarrhea, I'm not walking you to the toilet."
"..."
Lynn fell silent, not knowing what to say, but Hagrid seemed to notice something.
"I'll give Fang's teeth a good brushing. But dogs, well, they always have this habit. Fang gets greedy; it's nature. Even if I feed him full, he'll still do this."
"O... okay..."
Lynn opened his mouth. He couldn't exactly tell Hagrid that because of Fang, there was a person in the Great Hall currently eating remotely alongside the dog, right...? Even if he said it, no one would believe it. Magic wasn't omnipotent.
There surely wasn't a wizard in the world who would invent a spell to let someone taste this stuff, right? Definitely not!
"I understand how you feel, Lynn."
Hagrid leaned on the dung fork and spread his hands helplessly. "After you take Herbology, you'll actually deal with this stuff often. After all, planting magical plants is like growing vegetables; they all need fertilizer. And Professor Sprout's requirements are even more precise. My methods were all taught by her."
"I get that..." Lynn waved his hand. "I've grown vegetables before, I'm not averse to manure. It's just—if Harley knew Fang ate this stuff..."
"I'll wash Fang right now. Don't you tell Harley about this."
Without a second word, Hagrid immediately hoisted Fang up, took two or three steps to the water pump, and hauled up a large bucket of ice-cold well water.
"Bark bark bark!!!"
Freezing from the well water, Fang howled in grief and indignation. Hagrid was scrubbing his fur off! His shiny black fur!!!
But as Hagrid shoved an oversized shoe brush into Fang's mouth to brush his teeth, Fang's barking thoroughly turned into muffled murmurs.
"Sigh... hope Ron is okay..."
Seeing this, Lynn could only sigh. But after turning to leave, he couldn't hold back his laughter anymore. His shoulders shook as he Apparated back to the eighth floor of the castle.
"Though... maybe I really could invent... never mind. Poor Ron. I'll compensate him later."
"Don't think about it. Making money, making money! Making money is the most important thing!"
Flames licked the bottom of the cauldron, bubbling sounds rose and fell. It was a precise and elegant concoction—even Snape would have to say it was good.