Chapter 40: The Wolfsbane Potion and the Order of Merlin

Though curious about what the plant could really do, Leonard set it aside—there were more pressing matters today.

"Did Jigger tell you anything about the Wolfsbane Potion?" Leonard asked.

"No. What's Wolfsbane Potion?" Midgard set down a teapot and poured him some water.

"A potion that lets werewolves stay sane during the full moon," Leonard said.

Crack!

The teapot shattered, water spilling across the floor.

"You… said what?" Midgard asked slowly, each word heavy.

"A potion that lets werewolves stay sane during the full moon," Leonard repeated.

"That kind of thing actually exists?" Midgard kept her expression calm as she cleaned up the shards, but her trembling hands and the cut on her skin betrayed her turmoil.

"Yes. It's confirmed. Jigger tracked down the potion's creator, and as it happens, the potion master is looking to sell the formula." Leonard sighed when he noticed her bleeding hand and helped her gather the pieces.

"Don't get your hopes too high," Leonard warned.

"I know. Maybe it doesn't work that well, or maybe the side effects are serious. Don't worry, I'll be ready for that," Midgard said firmly.

"That's not what I mean." Leonard looked her straight in the eyes. "A single potion won't change the status of werewolves."

Midgard froze for a moment, then gave a helpless smile. "You're brutally honest. Can't you let me be happy for a moment?"

"The bigger the hope, the harder the fall. Better to break the illusion early." Leonard tossed the shards aside. "The Wolfsbane Potion's been around for at least ten years, yet even you've never heard of it. Clearly, it hasn't changed anything for werewolves."

"Still, it can make life easier for you all. I think you should buy the patent. Use the formula however you like—just hand the patent over to me."

"You want me to meet with him? Wouldn't it be better if you went yourself?" Midgard frowned.

Leonard spread his hands helplessly. "I'm just an eleven-year-old kid. They won't take me seriously—they'll think we're making fun of them. If we're lucky, they'll just walk away."

"I keep forgetting you're still a child." Midgard pressed a hand to her forehead in frustration. "But that's your fault—you act far too mature."

Leonard shrugged innocently. "When the time comes, act a little tougher. Don't make it seem like you care too much about your people. Jigger says the guy's an honest type, but that doesn't mean we can't use a bit of pressure to lower the price."

"Got it. I'll listen to you. Let Jigger set a time—we'll meet in Knockturn Alley," Midgard said.

That part was up to her and Jigger to arrange. Leonard didn't interfere, only asking that she bring him along once the formal negotiations began.

He planned to keep the Wolfsbane Potion patent for himself. Midgard wouldn't object—she had no intention of making money from the formula, so the patent wouldn't hinder her. And anyone with sense could see the potion had little real future anyway.

Leonard only wanted the patent for one reason: the possibility of a Merlin Medal.

And the reason it was only a "possibility"…

In Harry Potter's third year, Damocles Belby finally received a Merlin Medal for inventing the Wolfsbane Potion.

But Leonard suspected that medal had been nothing more than a smokescreen.

After all, Gilderoy Lockhart—a fraud who excelled only at self-promotion—had managed to snag a Third-Class Merlin Medal. Meanwhile, a Potions Master who had created an entirely new potion received nothing higher than a Third-Class Medal. The irony was almost laughable.

Leonard's guess was that if the Ministry hadn't needed a distraction—something to push escaped Azkaban prisoner Sirius Black off the front pages—Belby might never have gotten even that paltry award for "contributions to knowledge or entertainment."

It showed clearly enough that the Ministry didn't care about the Wolfsbane Potion. It was nothing more than a political prop, something to drag out at the right moment and shove back into a corner once it had served its purpose.

The only way to secure a First-Class Merlin Medal would be to create a potion that truly cured lycanthropy or completely removed its contagious nature. That would be undeniable.

But that was no easy task. Leonard's ability to enhance the properties of plants wouldn't be enough on its own. The more complex the potion, the more critical the ratios and balance of ingredients became. Simply strengthening raw materials couldn't solve everything.

Still, there was no denying it: if anyone in this world had a chance at developing a true cure for werewolves, it was Leonard, with his power to push plants beyond their natural limits.