Hogwarts: Don't call me Wandmaker

Chapter 133 Siron completely defeats Dumbledore
After entering March, the weather became much warmer.

Siron's research on the spherical wand is progressing smoothly, and so far he has created a finished product capable of casting spells.

Unfortunately, it's only a one-time use item; afterwards, the staff will crack from the inside.

Siren suspects it's a problem with the arrangement of the runes. He's recently been trying another method: dividing the spherical staff into several equal-sized semicircles like an orange, then engraving the runes on each one, connecting them with the staff core, and finally assembling them into a whole.

The idea is fine, but it's too difficult to implement. Xilun has been trying it repeatedly for several days, and each time he fails at the last step.

Xilun wasn't discouraged; he just kept trying after each failure. And these failures weren't entirely bad; at least when Xilun was in high spirits, he completely forgot about the leaf in his mouth.

Of course, you still need to restrain yourself when eating.

"Shillon, are you sure you're okay with this?" This wasn't the first time Harry had said this.

For more than half a month, Xilun had barely eaten anything, mostly drinking milk and pumpkin juice.

He eats two sandwiches, three fried eggs and a sausage in the morning, but he gets hungry before noon, let alone when Xilun only drinks a glass of milk.

None of the witches who were clamoring to lose weight were as ruthless as Siron. In just over half a month, he visibly lost weight, making several older girls extremely envious.

But when you actually ask them to eat according to Xilun's diet, not one of them can stick to it for a week.

Hermione also tried it secretly, and as a result, she ate five beef sandwiches in revenge on the morning of the third day, and almost couldn't walk properly... This happened yesterday.

Now, when she looks at Xilun, her eyes are filled with admiration.

“You can’t keep eating like this,” Xilun glanced at her. “Actually, I can’t keep it up either.”

“You’ve held on for so long,” Hermione said. “More than twenty days, I suppose.”

“Twenty-three days,” Xiren said. “That’s why I’ve been able to hold on until now.”

He took a bottle out of his pocket, which still contained half an orange-red potion.

"what is this?"

“A specially made vitality tonic,” Celen said. “One sip and I can quickly restore my strength. Without this, I probably would have fainted in class someday.”

"There's such a good thing?" Harry's eyes lit up; he desperately needed something that could restore his strength.

It's foreseeable that their training intensity will increase for their final Quidditch match. After all, Oliver won't let his guard down just because their opponent is Ravenclaw.

After each training session, he would be so tired that he could barely walk and felt like he couldn't even lift his legs. If he had a bottle of this kind of potion, things would be much better.

"Where did you buy it, and how much did it cost?" Harry asked eagerly.

“It was from Snape,” Celen said.

This answer silenced Harry instantly; he knew he could never drink any potion Snape could give him.

Ron, standing to the side, gaped and stammered, "But... but... Snape specially brewed a potion for you? How could that be..."

“Be confident, of course it’s impossible,” Siron said. “The potion was indeed brewed by Snape, but Professor McGonagall gave it to me.”

"How come there's another Professor McGonagall?" Harry was even more confused.

She was probably afraid that she might suddenly faint in the classroom one day... Xilun found it somewhat amusing.

Professor McGonagall gave him this potion a week ago. At that time, Siron had been drinking milk and pumpkin juice for half a month and was so weak that he could barely walk.

However, he didn't tell Harry any of this, nor did he explain anything.

It wasn't about trust, but mainly for safety reasons. Sherren felt it was better not to tell Harry about her learning Animagus transformation techniques.

He didn't want to be confronted by Aurors one day.

Although Siren didn't say anything, Hermione on the other side seemed to have guessed something and kept staring at Siren's mouth.

However, at that moment, Xilun finished his milk, put down his cup, and left.

Although he has a special vitality tonic, so he doesn't have to worry about his stamina, the smell of toast and butter is still a torment for him.

"Just hang in there, just one more week..." Xiren encouraged herself.

This week seemed unusually long. In herbalism class, Professor Sprout was talking about the characteristics and preferences of the jumping mushroom, but to Siron, it was just a bucket of constantly jumping butter eggs and sausages.

Once, during a potions class, Siron mistook the potions in the cauldron for a big pot of beef stew.

It was only when a chilling smell wafted from the nearby Na'vi crucible that Xiren instantly snapped back to reality.

Siren couldn't describe what the taste was like; he was just instinctively terrified, as if Neville had put the Killing Curse into a cauldron and boiled it into a bluish-purple liquid.

Xilun felt genuinely fortunate for the dwarf; if it had drunk that potion, it might never have woken up.

Snape gave the same assessment, waving his wand to clean the cauldron of unidentified liquid, but this time Neville's cauldron also disappeared. It's unclear whether Snape did it intentionally, or if the cauldron was deemed unusable by a "cleansing charm."

Judging from Snape's surprised expression and the slight twitching of the muscles in his cheeks, it is most likely the latter.

A crucible isn't cheap; he's biased, but he won't arbitrarily damage a student's property.

Neville's ears turned bright red, and his wand fell with a thud onto the still-burning fire, sending sparks flying.

“Professor,” Neville said, frantically grabbing his wand, “I might have missed something…”

“You’re missing a brain.” Snape swung his wand forcefully, extinguishing the still-flickering sparks around him. “Gryffindor loses five points. You’ve successfully lowered the bar for potions.”

Several Slytherins nearby immediately burst into shrill laughter.

But that wasn't all; Snape then looked at Siron beside him.

"And you, Ollivander, is it fun to watch your classmate make a fool of himself? Why didn't you remind him?"

"I……"

“Gryffindor loses another five points.” Snape didn’t even bother to listen to Siren’s explanation. He finished speaking and left, floating to Harry’s side like a big black bat.

"I'm sorry, Siren, I didn't expect this..."

After Potions class, Neville walked out of the classroom dejectedly, seemingly still reeling from the shock.

Xilun didn't know how to comfort him, so he just patted him on the shoulder. "It's okay, at least you made history."

"Didn't you hear what Snape just said? You've successfully lowered the bar for potions. In a sense, it's not so easy to do that."

Neville paused for a moment, then thought about it carefully and realized it made sense, but it was really not something to be happy about.

The two walked out of the underground classroom and were quickly stopped by another person.

"Good afternoon, Professor McGonagall." Neville started stuttering again.

At Hogwarts, the person he feared most was undoubtedly Snape, followed by Professor McGonagall, who was known for her strictness.

He always felt that his performance was dragging Gryffindor down, so he was very afraid to see Professor McGonagall.

“You too, Longbottom,” Professor McGonagall said, then called Siron aside to a quiet corridor, her voice unusually expectant. “Today is the full moon. So, how was it? Did it work this time?”

"What? Today is the full moon?" Xilun hadn't even reacted yet when a surge of joy welled up inside him.

After receiving a definitive answer from Professor McGonagall, he immediately opened his mouth and spat out a tender green leaf.

Although a month has passed, the leaf shows no signs of wilting at all; on the contrary, it looks fresher, with the edges glowing with the characteristic fluorescence of mandrake.

“Very good, excellent…” Professor McGonagall said. Although it was only the first step in learning Animagus transformation, the fact that Celen had persevered already surpassed most wizards… including the headmaster of a certain magic school.

Professor McGonagall was genuinely surprised, but she quickly produced a small bottle containing a shallow layer of water.

This was a teaspoon of dew she had collected from the Forbidden Forest that morning, dew that hadn't seen sunlight or been touched by people for seven days... She had been preparing it ever since Xiren nearly fainted in the classroom.

Professor McGonagall handed the bottle to Siron and asked him to put the leaves in, then a hawk moth pupa and a hair of Siron's.

Professor McGonagall then took the bottle away, saying she was going to help Celen take the most important step... to place the bottle in a dark, quiet place until a thunderstorm, at which point the potion inside would undergo a complete transformation.

Celen was still in a state of excitement and did not notice that Professor McGonagall had disappeared. More importantly, she had only said that she would put the bottle in the Forbidden Forest, but had not told Celen the exact location.

In other words, only Professor McGonagall will be able to find this bottle and the potion inside. If she doesn't agree, Celen won't be able to perform the Animagus transformation.

When Xilun realized this, it was already the next day.

The fragrant fried pork chop and sweet pudding slightly dampened the joy in her heart, but also revitalized Xilun's mind.

He then realized that Professor McGonagall hadn't told him the exact location where the potion was buried. He immediately went to her office.

“I will give it to you when the time is right,” Professor McGonagall said, “but not now, Siron. I hope you will come to me when you can feel your second heartbeat.”

Then he was sent there.

The people of Xilun were stunned as the gate was slammed shut in front of them, and they felt a sudden dizziness.

He never expected that Professor McGonagall, who was always serious and earnest, would also learn Snape's behavior and play mind games with him, a twelve-year-old wizard.

A professor shouldn't be like Snape!

……

(End of this chapter)