Chapter 74. Purifying Potion
December had arrived.
The weather grew colder and colder; a thick layer of ice had formed over the Black Lake, and even the Giant Squid seldom surfaced.
Snow had yet to fall, but it already looked every inch like winter.
Even Adrian Wesson was reluctant to go out in such weather.
Wesson had installed an ordinary fireplace in his office, and kept two salamanders in it.
These were lizards that lived in fire; as long as the flames did not go out, they could survive indefinitely.
Of course, once the fire died, they would perish very quickly.
Salamander blood had strong healing properties and could be used in many potions; many witches and wizards liked to keep a few in winter.
"Right then, little ones—dinner."
Wesson tossed a twig of flamewood into the fireplace.
A single small piece of flamewood could keep the hearth burning for nearly an entire day.
And flame itself was these little creatures' daily fare.
As the salamanders hopped about in the fireplace, the office grew steadily warmer; Wesson couldn't help shrugging off his robes and slumping into his chair.
Rest always puts one in a good mood.
On the desk before him sat two small vials.
After a period of study, Wesson had finally turned his remaining two golden apples into two bottles of golden liquid.
[Name: Purifying Potion]
According to the Tree of Wisdom's analysis, this Purifying Potion could, to a certain extent, cleanse the effects of Dark Magic within the body or in the surrounding environment, including curses, jinxes, and other Dark Magic influences.
It was a powerful healing potion.
Compared with the original golden apple, the potion's curative effect was even more pronounced.
Knock, knock.
Just as Wesson was lost in thought over the potion, a soft rapping at the door broke his train of thought.
"Come in."
Wesson looked up and set the Purifying Potion gently into a small box, carefully closing the lid.
The door swung inward, and an unexpected visitor stepped into Wesson's office.
Hermione Granger came in; her cheeks were reddened by the chill outside, and her hair was even more untidy than usual.
She was carrying a few books in her arms. As it was Saturday, Wesson guessed the studious girl had just come from the library. "Professor, sorry to bother you," Hermione said politely. "I only wanted to ask you a few questions."
Wesson blinked, then gestured to the chair opposite. "Have a seat, Hermione."
Though he knew Hermione's enthusiasm for study, as the Care of Magical Creatures professor, Wesson was still a little surprised—after all, that class didn't begin until third year.
"So then, what do you want to ask?" Wesson asked, curious.
Hermione thought for a moment, then said, "It's the Wit-Sharpening Potion; I saw it in a book. I heard that this potion can significantly increase a wizard's intelligence, making one smarter for a short time. Is that true?"
Wit-Sharpening Potion?
Hearing Hermione's question, Wesson shook his head. "In fact, the Wit-Sharpening Potion is a fairly common potion that makes one's thoughts clearer after drinking it. But that doesn't mean it can make a person smart.
"The sensible way to use it is this: when your mind feels like a jumble, you can drink this potion and your studying will go much more smoothly. Of course, the problems you don't understand will still be problems you don't understand.
"You'll learn how to brew it in third or fourth year."
At Wesson's explanation, Hermione nodded, thoughtful, though slightly disappointed.
She had always felt she wasn't clever enough…
After that, Wesson glanced at Hermione, puzzled, and asked, "Shouldn't you be asking your Potions professor about this sort of thing?"
Hermione ducked her head a little and said, awkward, "Harry said… you're good at Potions as well. So I thought perhaps I could ask you."
Ah, so that was it; no wonder. Wesson nodded.
Indeed, for a student like Hermione, facing Severus Snape's severe manner wasn't easy.
Although Snape would probably answer Hermione's question, Wesson suspected his tone wouldn't be particularly kind.
Wesson knew it well from his own school days.
He gave Hermione a reassuring look and said gently, "Hermione, you can come to me any time. It's nothing to fuss about. I'm happy to help—so long as I know the answer."
Hermione's face lit with grateful relief. "Thank you, Professor."
Just then, the fireplace crackled.
One of the salamanders, perhaps scenting freedom, leapt out of the hearth and left a small scorched mark on the wooden floorboards.
"Oh, bother."
Wesson quickly flicked his wand, intending to levitate the salamander back into the fireplace.
But the little creature kicked hard mid-air with a sharp pop and landed neatly by Hermione's feet.
Away from the flames, it immediately began to flounder on the floor, looking as though it might give up the ghost at any moment.
"Hermione, quickly—give me a hand and get the little fellow back into the fireplace!" Wesson said.
Startled by the sudden commotion, Hermione nevertheless reacted fast.
At Wesson's words, she bent at once and, with great care, cupped the struggling salamander in both hands.
Its body was warm against her palms, but not unbearably so.
She walked to the hearth and set the salamander gently back inside.
When all was done, Wesson explained, "That's a salamander—a magical creature."
"I know, Professor," Hermione said, turning with a confident look. "I plan to take Care of Magical Creatures in third year, so I've already been previewing Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. I read the entry on salamanders—they're magical beings that live in fire."
"Excellent work, Hermione," Wesson said approvingly with a nod. "If we were in class, I'd certainly award Gryffindor two points."
A first-year had already begun previewing a third-year course—an elective, no less.
Wesson could only admire her.
At least, Wesson had never met a student quite like her.
Hermione smiled, a little embarrassed, and yet she felt a twinge of regret.
Losing out on two points—what a pity.
As she stepped away from the hearth, Hermione couldn't help glancing at the nearby bookcase—crammed full of books.
Who could resist a bookcase brimming with books?
Hermione certainly couldn't.
Catching sight of a certain title, she paused for a moment.
On the spine it read: The Untold Stories of Nicolas Flamel.
However, Hermione didn't give it much thought.
There were far too many famous people in the wizarding world; she couldn't possibly remember them all.
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