Even in Diagon Alley — the most well-stocked wizarding street in all of Britain — gathering the full list of ingredients for the Wolfsbane Potion still cost Sean Bulstrode a good chunk of time.
He and Aldridge went from one potion supplier to the next, weaving through the bustling crowds and dodging wide-eyed Hogwarts students shopping for new term supplies. Even so, by the end of it, Sean still had to duck into a shady little shop just off Knockturn Alley to find one last rare ingredient — and he paid nearly three times the usual price for it. It was a reminder that for an ordinary wizard family, the Wolfsbane Potion wasn't just expensive — it was impossibly out of reach.
When they stepped back out onto the main street, arms laden with wrapped parcels and sealed potion kits, neither of them called the family car. Instead, they changed clothes in a quiet corner of the Leaky Cauldron — Aldridge trading his crisp suit for a long, nondescript trench coat, and Sean pulling on a simple denim jacket. Blending in with the Muggle crowd, they took the Underground out to the London suburbs, then walked the rest of the way — about half a mile on foot — until they reached it: an old, ivy-clad orphanage tucked behind an iron gate and hedges left to grow wild.
Sean paused at the gate and looked up at the building. It was huge — three stories, dark brick, with windows that looked like they hadn't been washed in decades. The green vines crawling over the walls made it look even more like something out of a Muggle ghost story.
"Aldridge, is this the place?" Sean asked.
Aldridge smiled faintly at Sean's tone. "Yes, young master. It looks shabby from the street, but inside it's been completely refurbished. The children have already moved in and settled down."
He gestured at the faint shimmer near the gate — magic wards woven into the rusted iron. "Also, we've put up standard concealment charms. If any Muggles wander close, the Muggle-Repelling Charm will make them feel uneasy, second-guess themselves, and turn away. No one will get curious enough to try and come inside."
Sean nodded. He recognized that spell — wizards used it everywhere they didn't want Muggles snooping around, from Quidditch World Cups to hidden wizard homes. The difference was that this old orphanage now sheltered not just children, but a future that Sean was investing his own name and power into.
As Aldridge pushed open the gate, they stepped inside and crossed the front lawn to the big oak doors. Just inside the entrance, in what had once been a front office, two adult wizards were seated at a sturdy desk, sorting scrolls and scribbled ledgers. When they spotted Aldridge entering, they both grinned — but when they saw Sean following behind him, their smiles turned instantly respectful. Both stood at once and bowed slightly.
"Young master!""Young master Sean!"
Sean nodded, returning the greeting calmly. He could see the recognition in their eyes — the story of how he'd faced Barnabas back at Bulstrode Manor had already made the rounds. Especially after word spread that the injured boy he'd protected — the one everyone whispered might become 'the second Aldridge' — had survived and would fully recover. In their eyes, that single act bound them tighter to Sean than any speech could.
Their loyalty wasn't about the Bulstrode name alone anymore. It was about the boy who'd stepped up when it mattered.
Sean didn't reject them calling him young master. Meeting the eyes of the two adult wizards, he simply nodded and gave a faint, reassuring smile. "No need for all that — just focus on doing your part well."
He didn't linger for small talk. Without wasting another word, he gestured for Aldridge to lead the way deeper into the building — straight to the laboratory set up inside the old orphanage.
As they climbed the creaking staircase, Aldridge hesitated, glancing back at Sean. He lowered his voice, almost cautious. "Master… do you really not want to see the children here? They'd be glad to meet you."
Sean barely paused. He shook his head. "There's no need. Since I said this place is yours to run, then it's yours to run. I don't need to do pointless things here for show."
Aldridge opened his mouth, about to say something more — but Sean cut him off with a wave of his hand. "Don't say it. Let me ask you instead: Aldridge, will you?"
That single question made Aldridge freeze.Will you?Would he ever betray the trust handed to him so bluntly?
The answer was obvious — to him, and to Sean. He bowed deeply, voice steady with quiet loyalty. "I will, young master."He straightened, turned, and opened the laboratory door for Sean. Then he stepped aside, standing silent by the threshold, ready to carry out any order if needed.
Inside, the laboratory was simple but well-equipped: polished wooden benches, rune-etched cauldrons, clean vials and stirring rods, glass containers stacked on sturdy shelves. Sean walked through it slowly, making a mental note of what was here and what still needed improving. Then he unpacked the carefully wrapped parcels from Diagon Alley, setting out each ingredient in neat rows.
Finally, he set aside the rare herb he'd worked so hard to replace — and next to it, he laid out his alternative: a compound of six low-tier materials, carefully measured and labeled according to his calculations.This was it. The real test.
Sean took a slow breath, steadied himself, and lit the burner under his cauldron. The Wolfsbane Potion was notorious — not just for the cost of its ingredients, but for the sheer effort it demanded. Twenty hours of continuous brewing, no breaks, no mistakes. For most, the strain alone made success impossible.
But for Sean Bulstrode, with his troll-like stamina and single-minded focus, that was no excuse to fail.
Outside the lab, Aldridge stood guard at the door without complaint. Twenty hours passed — dusk to dawn and then into dusk again — and he did not sit down once. When a house-elf or a caretaker brought him food or water, he took it quietly and stayed at his post. He'd kept vigil through worse in his life, but watching his young master endure the test of this brewing — no sleep, no food, unwavering — gave him a pride he found hard to put into words.
If this potion worked — if Sean truly succeeded in replacing that one impossible ingredient with something any Hogwarts third-year could brew — then he wouldn't just have refined the Wolfsbane Potion.
He'd have rewritten what wizards thought was possible.
"I knew it could be done!"
Half an hour later, Sean's triumphant shout rang through the laboratory.
Hearing the sound, Aldridge pushed the door open at once and stepped inside. He took in the bubbling cauldron and the gleaming flask in Sean's hand, and bowed slightly, a rare note of genuine excitement in his voice. "Congratulations on your success, young master."
Sean held up the flask of Wolfsbane Potion, grinning wide with satisfaction. With a flick of his wand, he tucked it neatly into his Undetectable Extension Bag. Then he turned to Aldridge, voice suddenly full of urgency — and hunger. "Do you have anything to eat or drink? Bring lots. I'm starving."
"Yes, young master — please wait just a—"
"Wait, never mind. I'll come with you."
"Understood, young master. This way, please."
They headed straight to the cafeteria on the first floor of the orphanage. Word spread fast: Aldridge gave a quick order, and in no time, the older children were helping the kitchen staff carry out tray after tray of food, setting them in front of Sean like an offering to an ancient giant.
Sean didn't stand on ceremony. He grabbed a large tin of apple juice first, drained it in one go, slammed it down, and immediately picked up his knife and fork.
One whole chicken disappeared, then another. A heap of salad vanished. Three plates more followed. Roast potatoes, bread rolls, an entire bowl of soup — Sean demolished it all with a rhythm only interrupted by the occasional satisfied hum. His troll-like stamina wasn't just for brewing potions. It also showed up at the dinner table — and after twenty hours awake and brewing, his appetite was monstrous.
By the time he cracked the bones of an entire roast turkey and sucked the marrow clean, even Aldridge felt a chill run down his spine. He hadn't seen Sean eat like this since he was a child recovering from serious injuries — but back then, it had been healing magic at work. Now, it was just raw appetite.
Finally, Sean tossed the last picked-clean bone aside, leaned back, and patted his stomach with a small grunt of contentment.
"Young master, are you full?" Aldridge asked carefully.
Sean thought about it for a moment, pressing his palm to his midsection as if weighing its fullness. Then he gave a small, satisfied nod. "About eighty percent full. That's enough for now."
"Oh…"
The children clustered around the edges of the cafeteria gasped in unison — wide-eyed, whispering to each other. Many of them had never seen so much food disappear so quickly. Some of the younger ones stared at Sean as if he might sprout tusks at any moment.
Is the master part troll?How did he eat that much?
But when Sean turned and caught their eyes, he just chuckled, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and said lightly, "What? Growing boys need to eat well, right?"