13

The conversation with Flitwick took place on Thursday night, so as soon as Friday's classes were over, History of Magic and Potions, where Snape looked at me strangely from the start, but didn't ask any questions. And I, remembering our last conversation, was ready to bang my head against the wall. How could I have been so stupid as to give away information from a completely different world! And managed to brew a potion of liquid silver?

In this session, we brewed a wart potion. And yes, boils and warts are completely different and treated with different potions, in case you didn't know. At the end of the lesson, I couldn't take it any more and asked Snape to stay in class for an experiment. He looked at me like I was a snail, but after thinking about it, he agreed.

- And what is it, Potter, that you have decided to brew this strange potion today? - He said my last name like he was spitting, really! You know how to put things like that!

- A potion. It's quick, so it won't take long.

- And what is this potion, Potter? - Snape repeated, and I replied with a sigh.

- This recipe has not been tried, but it is described as an experiment by one of the old potion-makers. I found a description of this potion in books about wizards of the past. And I wondered if it was possible.

- Potter..." Snape exhaled, and I realised that if I didn't answer the question posed, I would be nailed right here or thrown out into the corridor with a ball. Through closed doors.

- A little healing potion! - I said immediately, raising my hands in the air.

- Hmm... strange, I've never heard of this before," the potter thought. - I've read many books and treatises on potions. Practically all of them, in fact. Except for the really rare ones, which were unobtainable even for a lot of money. And where did you read about this potion?

- Um... I don't know the name, but I have a good memory. When I was with the goblins, I saw one of them looking at an old book. I looked over his shoulder and managed to read part of it. It talked about two potions. I only read part of the second one, so I decided to try the one I had memorised. The goblins gave me a hard time, but I think it was worth it.

- Hmm... very well, Mr Potter. Let's try this recipe out,' I asked him for his bread and butter: Potions and a new recipe. - Only if it doesn't work, you'll be charged for the ingredients.

- Okay," I nodded, and Snape grimaced, probably thinking I was a big spender. Well, let him think that. I don't want to tell him that I'm actually the richest man and wizard in the world. Ha.

- What ingredients do you need? - The potion-maker walked with his broad steps to the ingredients cupboard. And when he opened the door and looked at me questioningly, he said immediately:

- Blue Mountain Blossom, Yellow Mountain Blossom, Sun Bee Honey, Unicorn Hair," Snape's eyes widened as each ingredient was mentioned. And with the last ingredient, he waved his hand and reached into the cupboard, rummaging around for about ten minutes, which was obviously quite a long time, but he still brought everything I needed to my table. I took out a mortar and pestle and put the blue ermine flower in it, crushed it to a paste and carefully transferred it to a bowl, then rinsed the mortar and crushed the yellow ermine in a separate bowl. Then he took a wick and placed a glass flask over it, measuring exactly fifty millilitres of honey into it, and heated it over a very low fire until it was warm and liquid enough. While the honey was heating, he took a unicorn hair and, after checking it against the light, placed it on a board, stretched it out and carefully cut it into six pieces. Snape chuckled at this action, but made no comment. Much to his credit.

Turning off the burner under the honey, I took out a clean copper sheet and used a normal pen to stamp the desired geometric shape on the thin sheet, causing Snape behind me to chuckle oddly. I placed chopped hair on the prepared figure in a certain order and then waved my wand, causing the pentagram on the sheet to burst into a golden flame that didn't even think of going out. Carefully taking the sheet of metal, he moved it to the honey and threw in first the ground blue and then the yellow ermine flowers. As soon as the gruel hit the flames, the colour of the fire changed to blue and the ingredients burned like gunpowder, the potion-maker snorted behind me, I think he was already savouring the moment when he would make me pay for the ingredients and add it all to the work, but no way!

I took the plate carefully, bent it according to one of the drawings and literally poured what made the flame burn into a beaker of warm honey. As soon as all the dust of the fire was inside, he immediately closed the glass container with an oak cork and added the fire in the spirit pot to the maximum. And the liquid in the beaker boiled, changing its colour from golden with a blue tinge to crimson. As soon as the colour was evenly distributed throughout the potion, I turned off the spirit pot and removed the potion from the burner with special tongs. He held it for five seconds over a small beaker of pure spring water and then plunged the beaker into it, which cooled it down rather quickly. Once the beaker was in the water, he began to read the spell, barely moving his lips and almost silently, but the rhythm of the magic continued, affecting the essence of the potion. Six lines and the spell was over, the water in the glass turned grey and I immediately removed the potion from the glass and placed it on the table. It was now a bright ruby red. It was finished.

- Interesting, Potter," Snape stared at the cup, but did not touch it with his hands. - So what does this potion do?

- According to the description in the book, it is supposed to heal sprains, deep cuts, minor internal injuries and the like. Even cracks in bones should heal in seconds.

- Hmm... I don't believe it, so we'll have to check it out. Do you mind, Mr Potter? - The Potions Master asked sceptically. I pointed at the beaker and nodded.

- Have a look.

Snape snorted, waved his wand and cast a series of spells, clearly of an analytical nature. And after a dozen seconds, his face began to stretch until he was in a state of sheer shock.

- Potter, do you have any idea what you've done in the last half hour? - I shook my head negatively.

- Only what the book says," I lied without batting an eyelid.

- It's... a general healing potion. Weak, of course, but very effective. It's a potion that Flamel himself brews for a great deal of money, using his Philosopher's Stone. And you brew it from two northern flowers, the extremely rare Sunbeam Honey. A litre of this honey is worth a hundred galleons. And unicorn hair, worth ten galleons. The total cost of your potion: one hundred and fifty galleons. That's the cost of production. You can sell it for three hundred galleons. Because the only equivalent is Flamel's potion, but Flamel's potion costs five hundred galleons. Do you have any idea what would happen if this potion came on the market?

- Trouble and a good profit," I said.

- Yes, income. But it would also cause a lot of trouble for Flamel's competitors. And he can, because he has enormous connections and a lot of money. And he has made a fortune with his potion.

- Well... I just checked the recipe," I shrugged. And it was true, I couldn't believe that potion making, combined with alchemy and magic, would work in this day and age. A rather complex Sumerian art, to master it you first have to become a master in alchemy, potions and an apprentice in enchantments. And that's not counting the apprentice in ritualism.

- And the Ministry of Magic will cause you a great deal of trouble in making this potion," he grimaced at the last word, as if he had chewed a green lemon. He must really dislike the Ministry. - Because of the ritual you used to make it. Yes, it's simple, but the Ministry automatically considers all rituals to be arcane. Idiots...

I looked at him and realised that a potion to cure ALL diseases should not be shown to him because it only requires three ingredients to make, but transmutation and energy infusion are done with rituals. And that is three rituals. Without sacrifice, of course, unless you count the mage's blood, which he offers to the goddess of life. But bloody rituals are forbidden. Well, that's the Ministry, I can solve the problems, but why do I need all this trouble?

- Sir, I should probably go, shouldn't I? - I saw Snape's face as I said the last thing, and I knew I was about to be pressed for prescriptions. And I was right. But I had no intention of giving up and putting a price on my knowledge, and the potter countered that I had stolen the recipe from a goblin book or something. I told him that I couldn't use the recipe because I would be sued. He was a little reluctant, but said that sometimes there was no choice but to break some laws in order to save a lot of people.

In short, we haggled until dark and hoarse and agreed that if he sold this potion according to my recipe, there would be a fifty-fifty profit. Although he insisted on seventy for him and thirty for me, because I wouldn't do anything, but you know how greedy a dragon is, don't you? We would even persuade the Jews, and so by sundown the sorcerer had given up. I described the recipe and the ritual in detail, making a few clichés on copper to spare. Then, wrung out like a lemon and with a dry throat, I made my way through the corridors to the kitchen by the Badgers' living room and, after tickling the pear on the portrait, made my way to the house elves' kitchen. As soon as they saw who had come to see them, it was as if they were frozen pillars of salt. And then, with the sound of a torn string, a housekeeper materialised before me. He was like all the others. He was big-eyed, short, big-eared and wore a toga-like cloak with a Hogwarts crest on his chest.

- How could an unworthy Mixtus help Lord Dov? - I looked at him and exhaled angrily, causing the elf to shrink into a lump. - What had Mikst done to displease the lord?

- Nothing, mind you. It was more a question of spirituality and responsibility". He walked over to the trembling elf, put his hand on his head and exhaled. Ofan-Fus-Aar! (To break the chains of the elf's soul. To give strength to the servant!)

And in the next instant, a silvery red flame of no heat flashed from the elf beneath my hand, and I withdrew my palm. The figure of the shrunken elf floated and began to grow rapidly, his skin flattened, his arms and legs lengthened and took on a more human appearance, his bright red hair broke out on his head and grew quickly to the middle of his back, the pillowcase he was wearing was replaced by a black and silver camisole, and in a minute there stood before me a short, graceful elf, six feet tall, with hair that shimmered in all shades of red. His ears were not long; they were quite human, except that they were pointed upwards. The face was quite human, or rather that of a teenage boy. Amazing malachite eyes looked at me with admiration and worship. The face changed and flowed before my eyes, the ugliness disappearing until the fire elf appeared before me. Elegant, deceptively fragile and incredibly magical. Magic is passed on through their blood. Even a one-year-old fire elf is capable of witchcraft.

He raised his hand to eye level, concentrated a great deal of spiritual energy into it and literally poured it out on all the housekeepers in the kitchen. It didn't take long for the transformation to take place. Five minutes later, there were no more little freaks in the kitchen. There were now nearly thirty fire elves standing there. Loaded to the brim with energy.

When the transformation was over, he lowered his hand and sighed wearily. Still, the release of so much of Dov's spiritual energy has been very tiring for me so far. Seeing their master swaying, Mikst, who was standing nearby, snapped his fingers and a comfortable and soft chair appeared behind the master's back, and one of the elves handed him a glass of orange juice, which he accepted and drank in one gulp, turning to return the glass, but it splashed and berry juice appeared out of the blue.

- Can I have something more substantial to eat? - I asked tiredly, but feeling my stomach clamouring for food.

- Anything, my lord," Mikst said.

- I waved my hand and before I knew it I was no longer sitting in my chair, but on a chair in front of the table, with a glass of cider and a seafood salad, which I devoured in an instant. Then came the beef steak, which disappeared instantly into my stomach. The cutlery flashed through my hands with incredible speed, I must have used a scream of acceleration. I can't remember what came next, but it was some meat and some garnish. As I felt I was about to burst, I fell away from the table, panting, and got up, but I was immediately shaken. I was tired, and a little sleepy.

The fire elf, seeing this, snapped his fingers, and my roommates suddenly ran for the bathroom at the speed of a hurricane, their stomachs rumbling at the same time. And while they were running, I was transported to the bedroom, changed into my pyjamas, floated to the bed and covered myself. I freshened the air in the room by bringing in the air from the mountain meadows and a little smell of flowers, and then disappeared before my roommates, who had been released halfway to the bathroom, returned to the room. Imagine their surprise when they found my roommate happily asleep in bed. The famous and perpetually missing Harry Potter.