Blood Fusion Potion

"I've said it before, their imaginations are nothing short of abundant," Snape's figure appeared from one side of the headmaster's office, his sullen face looking particularly grim.

Having observed everything with a Disillusionment Charm, Snape was well aware of Harry's entire accusatory narrative against him. Snape felt he had deducted too few points from the boy; the deterrence was insufficient. Next time, he would have to be more forceful...

"This is not just imagination, it could very well be reality," Dumbledore reminded, casting a somewhat helpless glance at Snape. If Snape hadn't so frequently targeted Harry, he wouldn't be the boy's prime suspect.

But Dumbledore was well aware of Snape's special sentiment towards Harry, and he knew he couldn't persuade Snape to change.

"So, what now?" Snape's hollow gaze fixed on Dumbledore as he spoke indifferently. "The situation with Quirrell is quite clear now; he must have connections with Voldemort. What do you plan to do with him?"

Dumbledore did not reply but fell into silence once more.

"You don't actually believe those shoddy traps under the trapdoor will stop Quirrell, or the Dark Lord, do you?" Snape was perplexed and then suddenly seemed to realize something.

"Or are those challenges meant for Potter and his friends?"

Snape looked at Dumbledore with a sneer.

"Sending a few first-year wizards through layers of obstacles to face the Dark Lord? Ah... what a grand adventure..."

Snape's tone grew increasingly angry. He questioned if Dumbledore had been reading too many memoirs or if he was suffering from senility. Otherwise, how could he entertain such a ludicrous idea?

"Severus!" Dumbledore cut him off,

"You should be clear that I cannot protect Harry forever. Some level of growth is necessary. At least for now, I have the ability to keep the danger within a controllable range."

Dumbledore paused, a touch of weariness creeping onto his face.

"I am old, and I can feel my power waning. Tom, on the other hand, is different. Weak as he may be now, as long as he is not dead, he will one day regain his strength, and perhaps become even stronger...

If we do not find his method of resisting death, we can do nothing..."

"A controllable range? That's the Dark Lord!" Snape challenged, word by word. Although he understood Dumbledore's words were true, he could not accept them in his heart.

Indeed, Harry was protected by a charm from Lily, preventing Voldemort from touching or even directly harming him.

But such magic was not invincible. Voldemort could easily bypass these restrictions and indirectly lead Harry to his demise.

Not to mention, a single Fiendfyre curse could reduce Harry to ashes...

"There is no such thing as absolute safety... Severus, you should be well aware of the prophecy. We must prepare for the worst!" Dumbledore insisted.

"You think you won't live to see that day, so you place your hope in Trelawney's fables? With the Philosopher's Stone... you could live on indefinitely."

Snape looked at Dumbledore with disappointment, unable to understand why the greatest white wizard of the century would pin his hopes on an eleven-year-old child. The Philosopher's Stone was here, within reach, and Dumbledore had ample time to deal with the situation.

"Sometimes, living on isn't necessarily a good thing," Dumbledore turned his gaze away from the Mirror of Erised and looked at Snape.

"And as I said, that's in the worst-case scenario. Perhaps things will go smoothly," Dumbledore said in a relaxed tone, though his furrowed brow never eased.

After all, the scene from eleven years ago was the best testament to the prophecy, leaving him no choice but to believe. It was also why he was in a hurry to cultivate Harry.

"I just hope you remember our agreement," Snape said before leaving the headmaster's office with a dark expression.

Even if Dumbledore was reluctant to act, Snape had to do what he could.

For starters, perhaps a warning to Quirrell...

...

Evan, leaving the headmaster's office, was unaware of the other conversation taking place inside.

Not wanting to waste academic points, Evan took advantage of the sufficient remaining time to excuse himself from Harry and the others and went alone to the Room of Requirement's potion storeroom to brew the Blood Fusion Potion.

Although still missing the most crucial catalyst, brewing the potion itself required a significant amount of time, so Evan had to start preparations early.

Dried nettles, black cohosh petals, mouse fruit, the keratin of black bats...

Evan took out the pre-prepared potion ingredients from the storeroom cabinet one by one and followed the steps to add them into the cauldron, then proceeded with the brewing method provided by the system.

Grinding... Measuring... Stirring...

With his brain functioning at a hundred times its normal speed, Evan's actions were impeccably standard, not resembling a first attempt at all, with no mistakes from beginning to end.

Evan now understood why, under the Scholar Experience Card state, only a level four in Potion-making was required to brew an advanced potion that normally needed a level six. The enhancement from this state was indeed potent.

A large batch of precious herbs was added to the cauldron by Evan, resulting in a concoction that was murky, somewhat gray, and faintly emitted a pungent odor.

But this was within Evan's expectations. Next, he simply had to wait for the potion in the cauldron to gradually turn as clear as water, which would mean it was halfway to success.

The final step was to add dragon's blood...

[Remaining Time: 00:11:09...]

"It took about thirty minutes," Evan glanced at the remaining time on the experience card in the system bar.

The potion brewing had been faster than he anticipated; he had been prepared to spend a hundred academic points.

With the remaining eleven minutes, Evan practiced spells like the Transfiguration and Levitation Charms, which didn't require a specific location. He improved his Transfiguration to near level four proficiency before the time expired, and then Evan left the Room of Requirement, satisfied.

Walking through the corridors of Hogwarts, Evan hesitated between going to the library or returning to his dormitory when he unexpectedly saw two familiar figures with tongues several times larger than usual, unable to close their mouths.

"George? Fred?" Seeing their comical state, Evan felt an urge to laugh, but then he suddenly remembered the Ton-Tongue Toffees he had given them during Christmas.

Could it possibly be his fault?

Maybe it was best to sneak away for now?

Tips:

For some reason, some special episodes cannot be uploaded here.

I uploaded the whole thing on Patreon, plus 20 new chapters.

If you're interested, check out Patreon

Copy to browser open:

patreon.com/user?u=111514881