Hogwarts Study Panel.

Chapter 147: A Winter Without Letters

The cellar was always filled with the clanging of "table tennis balls" from the little wizard's stirring, and occasionally a chilling sound would ring out. But more often, there was the hissing of ingredients being put into the crucible, and the bubbling sound of the crucible boiling.

Snape, hidden in the shadows, had long observed and learned that, aside from certain specific aspects, the fool's talent was no different from that of any other mediocre wizard he had ever seen.

Amidst the wisps of white smoke floating in the crucible, he was completely unable to discern the exquisite reactions between the materials, nor could he perceive the subtle effects of the flames licking at the crucible, let alone determine the crucial moments in the brewing of the potion.

In this respect, the only thing he can do is be meticulous.

Ha—if it weren't for Yan Jin, he would probably be lying in a hospital bed at the school hospital right now.

[You have brewed a potion of joy at an apprentice level. Proficiency +1]

Without the aid of ritual magic, Sheen can only brew the highest level of [Apprentice] Joy Potion, which is already a significant improvement over the past week or so.

You should know that he initially struggled to even succeed.

[You have brewed a potion of joy at an apprentice level. Proficiency +1]

Another pot of apprentice's joy potion was brewed, and Sheen had to stop and rest for a while after boiling several pots.

Although he was only a little bit away from unlocking the beginner-level Joy Potion, Sheen was certain that his mental strength was insufficient to support it. He took out a bottle of potion and drank it under Professor Snape's thoughtful gaze.

A little warmth flowed through his body, and Sheen's weary spirit was recovering.

He placed the crystal bottle down—hmm, it smells like apples.

After three whole months of flight training and with the help of Professor Snape's potions, his magic had recovered to the level he had before entering junior wizarding school!

Compared to when he used to be so exhausted from practicing the Levitation Charm, he can now cast the Silent Charm many times without blinking and without feeling tired.

More importantly, Sheen felt he had reached the edge of a juncture.

Before this, his body could only produce a small amount of magic, which seemed far from reaching the normal level of a junior wizard. But now, if he crosses the threshold, not only will his body recover, but also his normal level of magic development.

Just need—

A vial of potion appeared out of nowhere and landed in Sheen's hand. He looked up and saw Professor Snape's face covered by parchment.

So Sheen looked down at the potion, which was still a crystal bottle that reflected the light. The potion inside seemed to be a deeper color than before, and there was only one word on it: Drink.

Without hesitation, Sheen decided to use the potion, which they would call Mysterious Potion No. 2, as it was more than ten times more effective than the previous one.

The flavor has also changed to a rich apple flavor.

Sheehan felt his body getting slightly hot; he seemed to have crossed that threshold of becoming a normal young wizard. When he waved his wand to use Glowing Light, Professor Snape's roar could be heard even outside the cellar:

"Fool! Take back your magic!"

Sheen silently put away his wand, a barely perceptible smile curving his lips.

The good news doesn't stop there.

[You have brewed a potion of joy with a beginner level skill. Proficiency +3]

Magic power level does indeed significantly affect a wizard's performance in various branches of magic.

A new title in the Potions Realm has been unlocked. Please check it out.

Sheen looked down with anticipation:

[Title: Potions Expert]

[Significantly increases sensitivity to potions and greatly enhances potion-making talent]

[Wizard Sheen, Potions Talent: Blue (Potions Expertise title added, original talent was white). Note: Normal wizards have green.]

[Advanced: Brewing six expert-level potions and six skilled-level potions can unlock the expert-level title in the potion-making field?]

My talents have all improved!

Sheen knew that those days of striving for inspiration, being so cautious as to avoid even the slightest deviation, and agonizing over the timing and stirring intensity were one step further away from him.

He should be considered half a potions genius now, right?

Snape's gaze remained fixed on Sheehan. He had certainly sensed the brief increase in magic power—that fool had almost installed a hundred magical lanterns in the cellar, and some materials had to be stored in the shadows.

Meanwhile, some details kept swirling in Snape's mind, eventually turning into a momentary mistake.

In late November, the chill seeped deep into the stone walls of the cellar, and the snow fell softly and gently on the edges of the castle.

Sheen skillfully lit the cauldron, processed the materials, added them in, and stirred them, waiting for them to blend.

Following his unique intuition, he constantly adjusted his skills while brewing the potion, and his quill pen was constantly jotting down notes in the notebook beside him.

He now understood why Professor Snape was so anxious and angry. Looking back, he realized that his previous attempts at cooking were merely imitations and often contained errors.

You have skillfully brewed a potion of joy; your proficiency has increased by 10.

Perhaps it was the culmination of years of hard work, or perhaps it was good luck, but a look of joy appeared on Sheen's face.

A skilled player's Joyful Potion, even when sold for resale, fetches an astonishing 20 Galleons.

This also means that I have already reached the level of being able to brew high-level magic potions on my own.

Compared to when it was difficult to even prepare scabies medicine when I first enrolled, this is more than a hundred times better.

It was the coldest time in the cellar. Severus Snape looked away, stood by the window, and gazed into the frozen black lake.

In the crucible in front of Sheen, the last cluster of red flames disappeared into the ash with a faint, sighing sound.

Professor Snape did not move. He simply watched his breath condense into white mist before his eyes, then dissipate into the stagnant air of the cellar.

As if waiting for something, or perhaps having long forgotten the act of waiting itself. In this corner that even ghosts avoid, only memories and the remnants of potions seal away certain wounds that will never heal in the sub-zero temperatures.

He thought it was just a matter of low talent, but his potion-making talent was gradually emerging, and in a daze, only one possibility came to mind:

Suffering gave him a barren body, destroyed his inherent talent, and froze the magic that had allowed him to barely pass.

In contrast to Sheehan's slight excitement, Professor Snape remained expressionless, and unusually, asked in a calm tone:

Why not harbor resentment?

The snow at Hogwarts was falling silently onto the Black Lake, onto the Forbidden Forest, onto a long winter in which no letters had been sent. And so the snow fell heavier and heavier. The fire in the cauldron rose, occasionally making a soft crackling sound. This winter, the snow seemed to fall on Snape's rusty trachea and lungs.

His voice was like a train that had been stopped, the name stuck in his throat, lingering in the long winter.