The small silver bucket… the one found with the roots of the World Tree in the Ministry of Magic's secret vault!
The realization struck Char with the force of a physical blow. He had already gained so much from it. The rewards from his plants were enhanced under its influence, and most crucially, it had revived the Hungarian Horntail egg that should have died, making his cultivation of the Blood Jade possible. He had always felt a pang of sorrow looking at the small bucket; it was so severely damaged, with most of its surface worn away, leaving only a small, intricate pattern on the inside of its base. The design was not an exact match to the one on the cover of the book before him, but he could see that they were undoubtedly products of the same system.
Char's heart skipped a beat. The bucket's origin had to be something truly extraordinary. If he could uncover its secrets, he might even be able to repair it and benefit even more from its power.
He carefully took the book down from the shelf and turned the first page. It was blank, save for lines of densely packed handwriting from many different people, each scrawl seeming to contain the resentment and sorrow of countless past students.
"I don't understand! I really don't understand!"
"I have the professor's permission! I'm a genius! How can I not understand this?!"
"Am I not a genius? Or am I just a mediocre person, born in an age without geniuses? I can't accept this!"
"Damn it, how on earth did the students before us pass this course? Were they all monsters?!"
"Is the wizarding world in decline? Is an outstanding mind like mine no better than an ordinary student from a hundred years ago?!"
Behind those faded, older notes, a more recent entry was written in bright red ink.
"To all the outstanding students of the past, I don't know if you can still see this, but I have done some detailed research. Apart from the first year this practical course was offered at Hogwarts—which resulted in a serious teaching incident where every single student failed—there has never been a practical component since. All exams have been theoretical. And the exam questions are the same every year. So, it's clear why this subject was cancelled: no one could learn it, and everyone just memorized the answers for the tests!
—Bathilda Bagshot."
After seeing the note from the famous author of A History of Magic, Char finally understood. This book was once the official alchemy textbook of Hogwarts. He turned the page and, sure enough, saw the neatly written title: An Introduction to Alchemy.
Around the title, some long-forgotten student with a dark sense of humor had drawn a lifelike tombstone, thoughtfully adding a subtitle: An Introduction to Alchemy: From Inception to Internment. Below this grim artwork, like an inscription on the tombstone itself, was a list of names—a silent, shared understanding among all the students who had despaired over this very book.
Char even saw a familiar set of initials among them. "S.S., rests here."
Snape.
Char's mind immediately flashed to the look on Snape's face when he had mentioned alchemy. Snape had insisted that he could have learned it, but had simply chosen to pursue Potions instead. At the time, Char had found it somewhat believable; Snape's talent was, after all, undeniable. But now… had he truly failed in the face of alchemy?
Thinking of this, Char stared at the book in astonishment. Just how difficult is this subject? No wonder alchemists were so rare in the modern wizarding world. No wonder this book was kept in the Restricted Section. If so many brilliant students had failed, it would be a complete waste of time for anyone else.
After a moment's hesitation, the thought of the little silver bucket returned. If he could find a way to repair it, the potential benefits were immeasurable. He picked up the book. Alchemy is a legendary and powerful art, he thought. Now that I've stumbled upon it, I have to at least try. What if my own unique way of thinking is the key? What if?
With that faint hope, Char tucked both the Bubble-Head Charm textbook and An Introduction to Alchemy under his arm and left the Restricted Section.
Three days later, Char stared at An Introduction to Alchemy with a bitter expression. In three full days of study, he had managed to understand exactly one thing: the five words of the title.
"I knew it was too good to be true," he sighed. "So many geniuses couldn't even make a dent in this, let alone me. Even if I'm pushed to my absolute limit, I can't do advanced mathematics. And even if I'm driven mad, I can't understand alchemy."
Shaking his head, he casually put the book aside. Fortunately, his expectations hadn't been very high. He had approached it with the mentality that learning anything would be a bonus, and learning nothing would be no loss. So, even with no progress, he wasn't too disappointed.
His gaze shifted to the other book, the one detailing the Bubble-Head Charm, and his expression turned to one of joy. Learning that spell had gone much more smoothly than he had anticipated. With his Bronze-level Transfiguration and so many Platinum-level spells as a foundation, the Bubble-Head Charm had indeed not been difficult. On his system panel, the spell was already flashing with a dazzling silver light. He had already promoted it to the Silver level.
He waved his wand in a circle. "Bubble-Head Charm!"
A bubble immediately appeared, like an inverted glass fishbowl, covering his head. At that same moment, his [Water Enhancement] ability lit up on the system panel, taking effect. Char felt his magic strength and perception increase significantly. Even his thoughts seemed clearer. He smiled with satisfaction. If he had known this spell in the Forbidden Forest, the power of his Sectumsempra would have been dramatically increased. Killing the Acromantula would have been much easier. Now, that shortcoming was finally remedied.
The spell had other benefits, too. It protected against poisonous gas and odors and even blocked out some noise. The only drawback was its thirty-minute oxygen supply; some wizards in history had forgotten the time limit and drowned. But that wasn't a problem for Char. His [Water Enhancement] ability allowed him to breathe freely in water.
He turned his attention to the three plots of land in his greenhouse where he was cultivating the Blood Jade. The third group, the one with the mixed blood, remained unchanged. But the first two groups showed obvious progress. The originally translucent mycelium of the glowing mushrooms was now suffused with color. The group that had received the dragon blood was a vibrant, blood-red. The group that had received the Acromantula blood was a strange, crystalline green.
"The blood is different… could the resulting Blood Jade be different as well?" he wondered. The transformation was not yet complete, and the reward information was still vague. But it wouldn't be long now.
He picked up the two books and headed back to the library. The note from his aunt only allowed him to borrow them for three days. He had learned the spell he needed, and alchemy seemed like a lost cause for now. It was better to return them.
At that same moment, deep in the Forbidden Forest, in a cocoon of spider silk, the last spark of life quietly slipped away.
In the archives of the Ministry of Magic, a file belonging to a high-ranking official began to glow with a bright red light, triggering a series of frantic alarm bells. Cornelius Fudge, who had been resting at home, hurried to the Ministry, his face a mask of ugly frustration. He had had enough trouble lately. Now, an alarm that only triggered upon the death of a high-ranking official was ringing through the halls.
"What is going on?" Fudge demanded, his expression sullen. "Who died?"
The archives clerk whispered, "Umbridge, sir. She didn't come to work for the past three days. We all thought she was just… in a bad mood. But… it seems she died tonight."
Fudge's expression flickered. He felt no regret; Umbridge was of no value to him anymore. But the death of a Ministry official was a huge problem. He rubbed his head. "The Wizengamot will have to be involved. Dumbledore must be informed as well. Send him an urgent letter."
A moment later, the letter arrived at Hogwarts. Dumbledore's expression filled with surprise and uncertainty. Umbridge is dead? Even with her career in ruins, she was still a high-ranking official. Even dark wizards wouldn't dare to attack her. And she wasn't from a pure-blood family; there was nothing to gain from killing her. The motive had to be revenge.
In his mind's eye, Char's face appeared. The boy was usually so low-key, but when someone he cared about was threatened, the ruthlessness he displayed was startling. Considering Umbridge's actions, it wasn't impossible that Char had taken matters into his own hands. A shadow of gloom passed over Dumbledore's eyes. He hated to suspect his students with such malice, but after what had happened with Tom Riddle, he couldn't help it. Char's popularity in Hufflepuff was immense, not unlike Tom's in Slytherin. And with the dark forces stirring at Hogwarts this year, it was possible that Char's anger and desire for power had been exploited. Dumbledore had also learned from the portraits that Char had visited the Restricted Section three days ago. His gaze grew more profound. He had to know for sure.
He made his way to the library. In the deep, quiet corridor, illuminated by moonlight, he saw a figure ahead. He stepped out of the shadows.
Char was stunned for a moment. "Headmaster Dumbledore? Why are you in the library so late?"
Dumbledore smiled. "No matter how old you are, the passion for knowledge never dies. It's in the school song. How can I teach talented students like you if I don't study myself? And you, Char? What brings you here so late?"
Char's heart skipped a beat. He knew he was under suspicion again. Dumbledore's past experience with a brilliant but dangerous student had clearly left its mark.
"I'm not here to read, sir," he said, shaking his head. "I'm here to return the books I borrowed from the Restricted Section three days ago."
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Returning a book? That's a little hard to believe. The Restricted Section is notorious for late returns. Such powerful magic… it can be addictive, can't it? Don't worry, I was a student once, too. I was a whole semester late returning a book." He smiled, his eyes twinkling. "So, Char, what did you borrow?"
Char was silent for a moment, then took a deep breath. "A book about the most murderous spell in history, sir. My aunt told me it's extremely dangerous. And another… a book that brings only pain and hopelessness, one that has buried the dreams of countless people."
A sharp light flashed in Dumbledore's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by relief. He is admitting it, he thought. He was tempted, but he has not sunk too deep. He is not beyond redemption.
"Char," Dumbledore said softly. "Have you mastered them?"
Char nodded slowly. "I've mastered one of them, sir."
Dumbledore frowned. Mastered a powerful, forbidden spell in just three days? Was Char that gifted in the dark arts, or was someone else influencing him? His expression grew serious. "Show me."
Char hesitated. "Here, Headmaster?"
"Yes," Dumbledore said, a hint of impatience in his voice. "I must see what you have learned. Don't worry, this will remain between us."
Char sighed. "Very well." He grasped his wand and drew a circle in the air. Dumbledore tensed, preparing for a powerful dark spell, but was confused by the unfamiliar wand movement. Then, he heard Char's incantation.
"Bubble-Head Charm!"
A bubble immediately covered Char's head. His muffled voice came from within. "Headmaster? Is there something wrong with the spell?"
Dumbledore was completely stunned. "The… Bubble-Head Charm?" He thought it had to be a trick. Who goes to the Restricted Section to learn the Bubble-Head Charm?! But then Char took out the textbook and asked, with genuine curiosity, "Am I using it incorrectly?"
"No, no, it works fine," Dumbledore stammered. "Is this the… extremely dangerous curse you mentioned?"
"My aunt told me so," Char said, his expression serious. "She said that more people have died from the Bubble-Head Charm than from the Killing Curse. Is that wrong?"
Dumbledore was silent for a moment, then asked, "And the other book? The one that brings hopelessness and buries dreams?"
Char took out An Introduction to Alchemy and shuddered theatrically. "This book is horrible. It's absolutely ridiculous."
Dumbledore was speechless. This was not at all what he had imagined.
"Headmaster," Char asked, a confused look on his face, "is there something wrong with the magic I used? I only wanted to get the Bubble-Head Charm, but then I saw the patterns on the cover of this alchemy book and thought they were beautiful, so I took it as well. Shouldn't I have? I won't be expelled, will I?"
A wave of shame washed over Dumbledore, his cheeks growing hot. What a wonderful boy, he thought, chiding himself. He came to the Restricted Section for the Bubble-Head Charm. He told me everything without hesitation. How could you doubt him? Dumbledore, are you even worthy of being a headmaster? You call yourself a teacher? For shame!
His expression softened, finally settling into one of warm approval. "No, no, of course not, Char. You may not be the most brilliant student I have ever met, but you are certainly the most honest and down-to-earth. To face the allure of the powerful magic in the Restricted Section and remain so unwavering in your original goal… that is a rare quality. For that, I award Hufflepuff ten points. And… as a personal reward, I will answer one question you have about alchemy."
Char's eyes lit up. This was his chance. Dumbledore's knowledge of alchemy was second only to Nicolas Flamel's. He quickly sketched the pattern from the bottom of his silver bucket. "Headmaster, what does this pattern mean?"
Dumbledore glanced at it, at first unconcerned, but then he let out a soft, "Hm?" His expression became one of contemplation and curiosity. "Where did you see this pattern?"
"On the small silver bucket I brought from the Ministry's secret vault," Char answered truthfully.
Dumbledore's eyes lit up, and he sighed. "That vault is full of old junk. I didn't expect you to find a real treasure." He leaned closer. "This is an ancient alchemical pattern, from the peak of the art in ancient Greece. At that time, powerful wizards lived on Mount Olympus, known to Muggles as the Olympian gods. They used these patterns to create their alchemical items. This specific pattern contains the symbolism of the element of earth, representing fertility. If I am not mistaken, the prototype of this small silver bucket should be the silver cup of Demeter, the goddess of agriculture, grain, and fertility."
He continued, a wistful look in his eyes. "Because Demeter was so beloved, many copies of her cup were made. But almost all of them were empty tributes. The only exception was the famous Hufflepuff Cup. It is considered the most successful imitation, and the one with the most similar power to the original."
Char's eyes widened. A silver cup of Demeter? Hufflepuff's gold cup? So that was the connection! A flash of lightning went through his mind. He tried to keep his voice steady, filling it with a tone of disappointment. "So, the imitation is not as effective as the original? That's such a pity."
Dumbledore laughed. "Certainly. We all hope that the objects in our hands correspond to some grand myth, and possess legendary power. It is indeed disappointing. Demeter's silver cup has long been lost to history. But no matter, this replica is still worth a great deal. If you were willing to sell it, people would line up to buy it."
Char shook his head repeatedly. "No, no. I need to study it further. What if it is Demeter's silver cup? I would be at a great loss if I sold it."
Dumbledore couldn't hold back his laughter. "Oh, indeed! If it were the real thing, even Nicolas Flamel would be interested." He took out his own wand, a playful twinkle in his eye. "Demeter's silver cup may be lost, but the ritual magic that activated it remains. Like this." He intoned the ancient words:
"Proscindite glaciem, vomere fulgente!" (Break the ice with a shining plowshare!)
"Spargite grana auri, paleasque territe!" (Sow the golden grain and thresh the chaff!)
"Cantate ovantes, seges alta viret!" (Sing with joy, the tall crops flourish!)
As Char absorbed the ritual, Dumbledore's smile grew wider. An interesting boy. He then returned to his office, leaving Char alone in the corridor.
Char took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on his system panel. A new ability had appeared: [Demeter Ritual Magic (Black Iron Level)]!
After returning the books, his heart, which he had deliberately kept calm, began to slowly speed up. If what Dumbledore said is true, he thought, and Hufflepuff's cup is locked in a vault, then my silver bucket, the one that can stimulate life… could it be the real Silver Cup of Demeter?
He quickened his pace, heading back to his small greenhouse. When he arrived, the scene before him made him stop, his thoughts of the silver cup momentarily forgotten. The two groups of glowing mushrooms that had not yet fully transformed were now completely changed. One group, the one that had received the dragon's blood, was a vibrant, blood-red from the inside out. This was why Char had named it Blood Jade. The other group, the one that had used the Acromantula blood, was a crystalline, emerald green, like the finest imperial jadeite.
But regardless of their color, the reward orbs floating above them had undergone a drastic change. As Char's eyes fell upon them, two distinct, powerful reward informations appeared in his vision.
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