read my new story:
Hogwarts : He Starts by Deconstructing Avada Kedavra...
Hogwarts, my partner is Tom…
"Mr. Corlett, I am sorry!!!"
No one expected Harry Potter to apologize to Owen in front of the entire school. Even Owen himself hadn't seen it coming. Perhaps... Harry had finally realized that being the so-called "Savior" wasn't just about his own abilities.
"Ten points to Gryffindor, for Mr. Harry Potter's bravery in admitting his mistakes and apologizing!"
Dumbledore's voice echoed through the Great Hall. Everyone applauded, except for Snape, who rolled his eyes. Giving points to Gryffindor for everything—it was truly unique.
Owen smiled and clapped along. But before he could say a word, Snape dragged him away.
"The International Wizarding Potions Championship?"
"Yes. It's held every seven years. I usually attend, but this time, it's your turn."
Wait a minute. The name sounded prestigious enough, but what was with that look of utter disgust on Snape's face?
Owen thought about it. Going out for a bit might be good. Who knows? Maybe through this competition, he could develop a few new potions that humans could actually drink!
"Sure. When does it start?"
"In five days. However, I heard the rules have changed this year. You'd better arrive a day early to study them."
"Hold on, what kind of rules can there be for brewing potions?" Owen was confused. "Are they banning fire? Or forbidding us from prepping ingredients?"
The disgust on Snape's face deepened. "It used to be a fine event for Potioneers to exchange knowledge. But lately, it's become a farce. That's why I'm not going."
"Um... Professor, may I ask what the rule was when you encountered it last time?"
"Brewing a Luminescent Potion... outdoors."
"Hiss!!!"
Owen sucked in a cold breath. He looked at Snape with a gaze one would reserve for a god. "And you... succeeded?"
"Impossible. You know as well as I do that the Shadow Flower in the Luminescent Potion cannot be exposed to light. Even if you process it perfectly, the finished potion cannot be exposed to light for a full day after brewing. The previous competition had no winner. Everyone failed."
Owen fell silent. After a long while, he spoke up, "Professor, my abilities are limited. Maybe we should—"
"You already promised."
Back in the common room, Owen didn't go to sleep immediately. Instead, he sat there hugging the big cat, staring blankly into space.
Since when did the aloof Professor Snape start playing mind games?
That single phrase, "You already promised," had completely cornered him. No retreat, no defense. It seemed that in the future, he wouldn't just have to watch out for Dumbledore, but Snape as well.
Why did it feel like as he grew up, the professors were changing too?
Sigh... so worrisome! This generation of teachers is getting harder and harder to manage!
Over the next few days, Owen prepared for the competition. He made up his mind: if the rules were normal, he would brew normally. If the rules were insane, well, they couldn't blame him for what he brewed. He might end up making something so weird even he couldn't control it.
When the time came, Snape saw him off. He stared at Owen for a long moment before sighing helplessly. "It doesn't matter if you fail. Just try not to kill anyone."
Owen's calm expression shattered. "Professor, that's a high bar. Can we lower it a bit? Like... try not to kill everyone?"
Snape's expression shifted. "No. If an accident happens, it's better to silence them all. If necessary, I authorize you to use Unforgivable Potions!"
Dumbledore couldn't listen anymore. If he let them keep talking... just listen to their choice of words! What kind of competition was this supposed to be?
Owen left. He flew from the UK to South Africa, but the moment he got off the plane, a carriage pulled by flying horses picked him up and transported him directly to a Dragon Sanctuary in Romania.
Owen was dumbfounded. He stared blankly at the competition official. "Don't tell me this year's rule is to brew potions using dragon fire breath?"
The official blinked, then rolled his eyes. "What are you thinking? That's impossible. This competition requires materials from dragons. The rule is: within ten days, obtain sufficient materials from inside the sanctuary, then brew a relevant potion within five days. The highest quality wins."
Owen wanted to write a letter. He wanted to write to Professor Snape, convey this bizarre rule, and ask him: Since when do Potions Masters have to risk their lives like this?
"Can I ask... what is the logic behind this rule?"
How valuable is a Potions Master?
Put it this way: if Snape quit teaching and announced he was opening a private studio, every wealthy faction and individual in the wizarding world would flock to his door.
A cauldron of Felix Felicis costs a thousand Galleons to brew. But when sold, it's priced by the drop. Three to five thousand Galleons for five drops—and there's still no supply to meet the demand.
So, Owen really wanted to know: bring your own ingredients, fine. But risking your life against dragons in a sanctuary? Where did this logic come from?
"The President decided it. He thinks Potioneers just stand around brewing, which lacks spectator appeal. So, he wanted to add some excitement. A Potions Master should have corresponding combat strength, right?"
The staff member leaned in and whispered, "Actually, he was triggered by the Alchemists. Their competition the year before last was done this way. The President thinks we Potioneers aren't inferior to Alchemists, so he set this up."
Owen's mouth twitched violently. "There aren't many contestants this year, are there?"
"Indeed, a lot fewer..."
Deep breath!
Another deep breath!
Owen calmed himself down. "May I ask where the President is? I'd like to pay him a visit. Specifically, I've developed a new potion and would love for him to taste it."
The staff member didn't think much of it and replied, "No need. The President was beaten up on his way here yesterday. But the injuries aren't serious; it won't affect the competition."
Owen clapped his hands in anger. "Who beat me to it!"
He had arrived two days early. During this time, dozens of other contestants arrived. Upon hearing the new rules, some turned around and left, quitting on the spot. Others stayed, their interest piqued.
Dragon materials were top-tier. Dragon bone, dragon blood, dragon scales—all excellent ingredients with exorbitant prices. Even if Potioneers weren't poor, they often lacked the means to obtain fresh materials for specific potions.
Now, they could take as much as they wanted for free. It was a rare opportunity!
It's just a dragon, right? For a true Potions Master, is that even a problem?