Chapter 151: Potions Index
With December’s arrival, Hogwarts was battered by gales, heavy rain, and blizzards.
Yet the Hufflepuff common room, with its massive fireplace, remained warm and cozy.
Whenever Jon passed by the great Durmstrang ship moored on the lake, he couldn’t help but feel pity for its students. The vessel rocked violently in the storm, its black sails flapping wildly against the night sky... Still, considering the notoriously harsh environment they were used to, they had likely grown accustomed to such conditions.
Meanwhile, in Care of Magical Creatures class, the giant palomino Abraxans from Beauxbatons reeked of single-malt whisky at their troughs... Many students ended up dizzy and tipsy from the fumes alone. Clearly, Hagrid had gone to great lengths to care for these winged horses.
And then there was Rita Skeeter, the Daily Prophet journalist, who seemed to have set her sights on Hagrid. She frequently lingered near the edge of the Forbidden Forest, eavesdropping and conducting detailed interviews. Hagrid, ever guileless, thought he was on the brink of fame, beaming happily during every interview and spilling everything he knew...
...
On Friday afternoon, during Divination class, Professor Sybill Trelawney introduced them to palmistry.
Most students yawned through her meandering interpretations.
“Your lifeline is the shortest I’ve ever seen, dear—except perhaps for young Mr. Potter in fourth year...” Professor Trelawney said solemnly to Gryffindor’s Colin Creevey, leaving the timid boy pale with fright.
“How can I make my lifeline longer, Professor...” Colin stammered.
Professor Trelawney rubbed his hand repeatedly, peering at it so closely that her large black-rimmed glasses nearly touched his skin.
“You must...” she intoned mysteriously, “stay away from a person wearing glasses...”
Colin’s jaw dropped. He glanced at Trelawney’s oversized glasses and stumbled several steps back in terror.
The half-asleep Zacharias Smith grabbed Jon’s hand and studied it lazily.
“Let’s see... your lifeline... long, deep, and rosy... that means your life will be tougher than a cockroach’s...”
“That’s good news!” Jon said with a grin.
“Your heart line... feathery... that means you’ll be very popular with the opposite sex...” Zacharias muttered, checking Unfogging the Future.
“I certainly hope you’re right...”
“No, wait, I misread it...” Zacharias shook his head. “The feathery one is actually your marriage line. It means loyalty—but also hardship...”
“And your fate line... why do you have two of them, one large and one small?” Zacharias exclaimed in alarm. “The book doesn’t say what it means to have two fate lines...”
“Maybe I’m just hard to kill?” Jon guessed casually.
...
On Saturday evening, Jon reported to Snape’s office as usual.
This time, his task was particularly troublesome—he had to collect Ashwinder eggs.
Ashwinders were snakes with glowing red eyes and slender, grayish-white bodies. They emerged from the ashes of magical fires left unattended, slithering into dark corners to make their lairs, leaving trails of ash in their wake. Their lives lasted only one hour. Within that hour, they would find a secluded place to lay their eggs—after which their bodies would crumble into dust.
The eggs were extremely volatile. Unless frozen within minutes by a Freezing Charm, they would burst into flames powerful enough to burn down an entire house.
During Armando Dippet’s time as Headmaster, the wizarding fairy tale The Fountain of Fair Fortune was adapted into a pantomime at Hogwarts. In that production, Professor Kettleburn had used an Ashwinder—enlarged with an Engorgement Charm—to play the gigantic “Worm”. The creature ended up laying a clutch of massive eggs beneath the set’s “mountain,” which promptly ignited the stage. Flames engulfed the Great Hall, forcing a full evacuation of students and staff. After that fiasco, pantomimes were permanently banned at Hogwarts.
Ashwinder eggs had many uses. Aside from being dangerous weapons, they were a common ingredient in love potions, and when properly frozen, they could be swallowed whole as a cure for ague.
They were also strictly controlled by the Ministry of Magic. Jon had no idea how Snape had obtained them, but it was obvious it wasn’t through legal means.
Handling Ashwinders was exhausting work. In just an hour and a half, Jon’s dragon-hide cloak caught fire multiple times, and he collected several burns. But with Snape’s help, he eventually managed to freeze all the eggs and store them safely in jars.
...
“Hart!” Snape said suddenly once the task was complete. “Starting next week, you needn’t come anymore.”
“Huh?” Jon looked up in surprise. “Why, Professor?”
“The required ingredients are nearly all prepared,” Snape replied coldly. “Enough to last for at least a year or two. There’s no further need for you.”
After a pause, the Potions Master hesitated, then spoke with unusual difficulty.
“Hart... come with me.”
Jon followed him to the back of the storeroom, where a table stood with a thick parchment laid across it.
“I should have told you about the potion sequence earlier,” Snape said gravely.
“Yes, Professor,” Jon admitted. “But my attempts at it were terrible. Absolutely terrible...”
“Of course they were, if you were fumbling in the dark!” Snape sneered, unfolding the parchment.
“To date, 118 potion sequences have been discovered—though it may be 119, or even more.” For once, Snape’s face showed rare seriousness. “Each wizard has a unique sequence for every potion. But in truth, these sequences can be categorized into 18 distinct families and several cycles.”
“Each potion belongs to one family, though placed in different cycles. So, attempting potion sequences is far simpler than you imagine.”
With that, he tossed the parchment full of tables at Jon.
“Take this back and memorize it thoroughly. Return it to me next Potions class.”
“Now get out.”
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