Chapter 41 — Putrefaction Fungi
Russell ignored Gugu's internal grumbling and untied the parcel. On top lay a letter. He slipped it into his pocket—something to read carefully later that night.
Beneath the letter was a transparent pouch stuffed full of brown, mushroom-like masses. These were likely the Putrefaction Fungi he had ordered. He didn't attempt to open the package; his instincts told him that doing so in the middle of the Great Hall was a very bad idea.
Aside from the fungi, the parcel contained several bottles and jars of various sizes. Russell picked one up at random and noticed the white label on it.
"Transfiguration Potion…"
Most likely Esmeralda's handiwork.
He separated the pouch containing the fungi from the rest and began scanning the Ravenclaw table for Senior Slughorn.
But after searching nearly the entire length of the table, she was nowhere to be found. Russell frowned in confusion.
No matter how busy she was, she still had to eat… right?
Spying another familiar senior student—Louise, he thought her name was—he approached her. He often saw her strolling around the courtyard with Senior Slughorn, so she seemed like the best person to ask.
"You're looking for Amelia?"
Louise frowned at first, studying Russell as though assessing him. But once she realized he was a first-year, her demeanor instantly brightened.
"Of course. Is there something you needed from her?" she asked.
"She asked me to help buy some things. They arrived today."
Russell lifted the pouch of fungi to show her.
"So you're Russell Fythorne," Louise said, her expression shifting to something curious. "The new student who's so close with the Addams."
"Well then—come with me."
She stood, straightened her robes, and motioned for Russell to follow behind her.
They walked through corridor after corridor until they finally reached a secluded tower, not far from Professor Snape's office.
"She's inside. Quiet, don't disturb her while she's brewing," Louise whispered. She carefully pushed at the classroom door—only to realize it was locked from the inside.
"Alohomora."
Louise drew her wand. A simple lock was hardly enough to stop her. With a soft click, the door sprang open just a crack.
The room beyond was dim. Every curtain had been pulled shut, allowing no light inside. The desks and chairs had been pushed aside, leaving the center clear for a single large table—atop which sat a massive cauldron.
Amelia Slughorn stood with her back to them, gripping a long-handled spoon as she stirred whatever was inside with great force and concentration.
Not wanting to interrupt her, Russell quietly placed the pouch of Putrefaction Fungi on a nearby table and turned to leave.
But then—
A thick, syrupy sweetness flooded his nose, mixed with the damp earthiness of moss and soil.
It was a scent both cloying and faintly rotten—like overripe berries left to ferment in humid air. At first it was oddly intoxicating, but after two breaths the sweetness became sharp and overwhelming. A sticky sensation clung to the inside of his nostrils, as if syrup coated every inhale.
This smell… something's wrong.
He snapped out of the haze just in time to notice Louise collapsing to the floor.
"How are you the first one to go down?" Russell muttered, alarmed. He rushed forward, grabbed her by the arms, and dragged her out of the room as quickly as he could.
Once outside, he realized her condition was worsening—her cheeks flushed bright red, her skin burning hot, symptoms like a raging fever.
Senior Slughorn… what on earth are you brewing?
Just as Russell resolved to find Professor Snape, a cold voice spoke behind him. Instead of panicking, Russell actually felt a wave of relief.
"Fythorne. What are you and this young lady doing here?"
"Professor—thank goodness you're here."
Russell explained quickly, "We entered the classroom just now and smelled something strange. After coming out, she ended up like this."
"Hmph. Reckless."
Snape scowled. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a small vial, and had Louise swallow its contents. The potion worked instantly: her body temperature dropped back to normal, though her eyes remained closed.
"Fortunately, you weren't completely foolish. Had you been any later, you'd both be spending a delightful weekend in the Hospital Wing."
"Professor… what was Senior Slughorn brewing? How can just the smell be that dangerous?"
Russell was already used to Snape's tone; his heart didn't even waver.
"That is not something you need to know."
Snape paused—then abruptly asked, "Why were you here in the first place?"
"She ordered some Putrefaction Fungi from me. I came to deliver them."
Russell shrugged and pointed toward the classroom.
"They're already inside."
Snape's expression shifted into one Russell had come to recognize—a mix of suspicion and reluctant amusement.
"Well, well. Our Mister Fythorne can procure these things? Impressive. Order a batch for me as well."
Clearly, he didn't believe Russell's explanation. Understandable—Russell was just a first-year from a Muggle orphan background. There was no reason he should be able to acquire materials even Snape found troublesome.
"No problem, Professor."
Snape's smile faded as he studied Russell's face. Suddenly, as if struck by a realization, he strode into the classroom. Moments later he returned, frowning deeply, eyes fixed on Russell.
"You… have been associating with the Addams family, haven't you?"
"That's right," Russell thought privately. More than associating—we're practically family at this point.
"It seems they value you highly," Snape murmured, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. The idea clearly unsettled him.
"Professor, what makes you say that?"
"Do you know how Putrefaction Fungi are obtained?"
He ignored Russell's question and asked one of his own.
Russell shook his head. He didn't even know what the fungi were, much less where they came from.
"They are an exceptionally rare magical ingredient. Their growing conditions are extremely strict: they cannot be cultivated artificially, and only grow near old gravestones—very slowly. Most importantly, once fully mature, they must be harvested within three hours or they wither and die."
"Even the shops in Knockturn Alley mostly carry only the dried kind—far inferior to fresh ones."
"There is a way to force them to mature, however. Do you know how?"
Snape's voice darkened. A bad feeling crept up Russell's spine.
"Don't tell me… watered with human blood?"
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