Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Chapter 600 The order from two years ago has arrived.

On the first Wednesday of September, autumn arrived earlier than usual in the Scottish Highlands.

The pumpkin juice in Hogwarts' Great Hall has been replaced with hot apple cider, the surface of the Black Lake has changed from azure to grayish-blue, and the beech leaves on the edge of the Forbidden Forest have begun to turn yellow.

The wind was cool in the castle's passageway. The young wizards had changed from wearing their school robes alone to wearing them with sweaters, and some of the younger students whose families lived in the south had already put on scarves.

The corridor remained the same as before, with torches burning on the stone walls, portraits dozing off or visiting each other, and staircases turning and swaying as they pleased.

The first Potions class of the third year was attended by Slytherins and Gryffindors together.

The air in the classroom still smelled of herbs mixed with the ash from dry pots and pans. The crucibles were lined up on the long table, their copper surfaces polished to a shine, and the day's materials were placed next to each crucible.

Dried nettles, ephedra juice, moonstone powder, sliced ​​shrunken figs, cutting board, silver knife, stirring stick.

The door on the side of the podium was closed, with a frosted glass panel embedded in it, through which the office lights could be seen.

Avery was in a good spot at the front, nudging Alex with his elbow. Hermes and Regulus sat in a row, their heads pressed against the corner of the stone wall, their eyelids drooping.

The side door creaked open from the inside, and Slughorn's belly peeked out first, followed by his round face.

She was wearing a deep burgundy velvet vest, the buttons were pulled tight, and a dark green bow tie was tied at the collar.

He walked in with a smile, raised his hand and waved it, wiping away the remaining writing from the previous lesson on the blackboard behind the podium.

"Good morning, good morning!" The professor's voice rang out from the doorway to the podium, warm and loud: "How was your holiday? Did anyone manage to go through the new textbooks in those two months?"

A few scattered responses came from below.

Oh? Flora, you went to France? Nice or Paris?

A Slytherin girl replied in a reserved tone: "Nice, Professor, I bought a batch of armadillo bile from Africa at a potions shop in Nice. The quality is better than that from Diagon Alley."

"Armadillo bile," Slughorn's eyes lit up, and he clapped his hands. "African stuff, good, good."

The active ingredients in wild lemur bile are highly dependent on the place of origin. Nigerian bile is more acidic, while Tanzanian bile is more alkaline. If you are using it to make anti-swelling medication, Tanzanian bile is better.

I know that shop in Nice. The owner's name is Dubois; he has an incredibly sensitive nose. He can tell whether bile has been diluted with water just by smelling it.

A Gryffindor boy raised his hand: "Professor, I tried making an energy drink at home, following the steps in the textbook, but the color turned out pale yellow. The textbook says it should be pale purple. Where did I go wrong?"

Slughorn chuckled, "Pale yellow? Did you add moonstone powder in a hurry while you were cooking it?"

"Yes, I'm afraid it won't be enough time."

"The moonstone powder should be added after the medicine turns dark red. If it is added too early, it will combine with the reaction products of Angelica pubescens root, and the color will turn yellowish."

"Alright," Slughorn clapped his hands, "Today's topic is shrinking potions, one of the more interesting ones in the third-year curriculum. Its function is to shrink the size of living things."

Let me ask you a question first: what is the most crucial step in determining whether a shrinking potion is up to standard?

Someone from the Slytherin side raised their hand. It was Lina. She stood up and said clearly, "The timing of adding the fig must be after the leech juice has completely dissolved. Adding it too early or too late will cause the shrinking effect of the potion to be unstable."

Slughorn's eyes narrowed to slits: "Miss Costa is right, two points added."

Then he looked toward Gryffindor, where Mary MacDonald had her hand raised: "Professor, I have a question. If the shrinking potion is used on plants, will the effect be different?"

For example, if you shrink a tree, are its roots, leaves, and internal fibrous structure scaled down proportionally, or rearranged according to some kind of pattern?

"Good question, Miss MacDonald, two points for Gryffindor," Slughorn said admiringly. "The shrinking potion works differently on plants than on animals. The magical structure of plants is closer to a net. During the shrinking process, the arrangement of the fibers is compressed, but not proportionally. The specific ratio depends on the magical density of the plant itself."

We'll cover this in fourth grade, and you can ask again then.

"The difficulty of this lesson lies in controlling the heat," he turned around, tapping the blackboard with his wand, where rounded characters appeared: "Controlling the heat is the core of this lesson. If you want to get a zero on this potion, you'd better master controlling the heat first."

Let's begin. Add the ingredients in order, keeping the heat on medium-low. Add the sliced ​​figs last. After adding all the figs, stir three times clockwise, making sure not to add too many or too few.

The classroom was filled with the soft sounds of crucibles clattering and materials falling into the water.

Regulus followed the steps exactly, slicing where necessary, peeling where necessary, and stirring where necessary, without using his own method.

The liquid slowly changed color in the pot, from transparent to light green, then to dark green, and finally to dark purple, maintaining a uniform simmer throughout, with bubbles rising from the bottom of the pot at a consistent speed.

Finally, add the sliced, shrunken figs and stir clockwise three times. The liquid will change from dark purple to light yellow, with a thin layer of silver sheen on the surface. It will be thick, have a good color, and a pure aroma.

Slughorn strolled over from the podium, paused in front of Regulus's crucible, and glanced down at the finished product.

"Mr. Black's pot has the perfect color and consistency, and the heat control is excellent. Others can use this as a reference."

After saying that, he nodded and left without giving any extra points.

"Mr. Cuthbert, your pot is smoking. Did you throw in figs, skin and all?"

Okay, put out the fire, let's try again.

The bell rang, and most of the classroom's students had their crucibles filled with liquids of various colors: deep purple, light green, yellowish-brown, yellowish-pink, and one was black.

The students packed up and left. Avery poured the waste liquid from the dry pot into the recycling bin, Alex gathered the material residue together, and Hermes was the first to rush out of the classroom, without even taking his schoolbag.

Slughorn came out from behind the podium, hands behind his back, smiling: "Mr. Black, stay a moment."

The others walked past Regulus without looking at him or waiting for him; even Lina didn't turn around.

In the past, when the professor kept them behind, these guys would stand at the door for a while, peeking around, waiting for Regulus to come out before leaving together. Now, they don't even glance at him and just walk away.

The classroom door closed, and the footsteps in the corridor outside faded into the distance.

Regulus packed his bag, stood up, and followed Slughorn into his office through the side door.

This is the most familiar professor's office in the entire castle, with its sweet scent, warmth, and woody aroma of dried herbs.

A velvet armchair was placed behind the desk, on which sat a pot of freshly brewed tea and a dish of candied pineapple.

Slughorn gestured, "Sit, sit, Regulus."

Regulus sat down opposite him.

Slughorn took two teacups from the cabinet by the fireplace, filled them with the teapot, pushed one towards Regulus, picked up the other, and slumped into the large armchair.

Just like every time he came before, but this time Slughorn didn't ramble on, didn't rush to speak, didn't boast about which old friend sent the tea, and didn't offer him candied fruit.

Regulus held the teacup with both hands and bowed slightly: "Professor, you summoned me here..."

Slughorn raised his hand, and Regulus shut his mouth.

The old man picked up his teacup, took a sip, put it down, ran his fingers along the rim of the cup, and paused for a moment on Regulus's face.

Not long after, he bent down and pulled open the bottom drawer.

The drawer was lined with a layer of dark green velvet, and in the very center sat a palm-sized dark jar that looked like it was made of obsidian.

The bag was sealed with a ring of dark gold wax, the surface of which was engraved with runes—fine, regular, and intricate—spreading outwards from the center.

He placed the jar on the table and pushed it in front of Regulus, his movements casual, but his tone betrayed a hint of undisguised smugness.

"That thing you asked me in first grade, it's been two years, and I've almost figured it out."

Regulus looked down at the jar, his mind racing.

In first grade, what did he ask about potions?

I remember now, could the magic potions painted on the body, the totems used in rituals, and the external materials be made using magic potions to increase the strength and power of the body?

I had almost forgotten about it, but I didn't expect the old man to remember it.

To be honest, I was a little touched.

So this was a free order placed two years ago, and it's been delivered now?

He reached out and took the jar, sincerely thanking the professor.

Slughorn smiled and waved his hand, tilting his chin forward and gesturing with his eyes for him to take a look.

Regulus lowered his head and examined it carefully; he had put a lot of effort into the jar itself.

The runes on the sealing wax were glowing faintly, the light shining through the engravings, sometimes bright and sometimes dim.

The outside of the jar is also encased in magic, which keeps it warm, moisturizes it, isolates it from the outside environment, and even controls the light. A constant spell flows slowly across the surface of the jar.

He drew his wand, touched the rune with the tip, and without chanting a spell, the magic seeped in, freezing the wax layer that maintained the cycle of the spell.

The light from the runes stopped at a dim, half-bright level, and the incantation on the surface of the jar also stopped.

He unscrewed the lid and peeked inside.

The ointment is dark gray, with a consistency that can be drawn into threads when scooped out with a silver spoon. It has no odor, a very uniform color, and a smooth surface.

Slughorn watched him unscrew the lid, a smirk playing on his lips, as he leaned forward, his belly resting on the edge of the table.

"Can't you smell it?"

Regulus nodded.

"That's right. If you could even smell the ingredients, I wouldn't be making this."

Slughorn sat back down, took a piece of candied fruit from the plate, popped it into his mouth, chewed it a couple of times, and wiped his fingers with a handkerchief.

"Do you know how difficult this thing is to handle?" His eyes narrowed, his tone brimming with undisguised smugness. "I've read countless books, asked countless people for help, and searched for countless materials."

He counted on his fingers: "First, we found a record in a 17th-century Dutch notebook. The Dutchman had worked for the East India Company and then went to Java to hang out with the local shamans for a few years. The notebook mentioned an ointment that, when applied to the body, could withstand the bites of the poisonous spiders in Port Elizabeth and survive for three days."

He paused, saw that Regulus was listening attentively, and nodded with satisfaction.

"The notes only described how to use the ointment, but the recipe wasn't complete. I went through a bunch of books and found a passage in the appendix of 'Hidden Pharmacology'. It said that the witch doctors of Waggadu had a kind of topical medicine that used tree bark and animal fat as a base to draw patterns on the body."

After completing the painting, one can endure the tribe's coming-of-age ceremony, running barefoot through thorny fields all day without getting blisters on the soles of their feet.

However, the recipes for these two things didn't match. I searched for another half month and found an Icelandic manuscript that mentioned that wizards in the North used ice crystal flowers and dragon's blood to make an ointment for use when going out to sea in winter, but it had serious side effects, causing numbness in the fingers for three days after using it once.

Then I wondered if combining these three things could create something that was effective, had no side effects, and could be stored stably.

He leaned back, resting his hands on his stomach, his round face full of smugness.

"I tried forty-seven kinds of materials, from Siberian ice crystal flowers to Andean tree bark, from Indian Ocean coral powder to deep-sea minerals from the North Sea, trying them one by one."

It took half a year to get some of the materials. The old man picking flowers in Siberia was the uncle of one of my students. (He was also involved in writing letters.)

They only agreed to help me collect [the information] after I wrote three letters.

The experiment yielded approximately two hundred batches, taking a full year and a half.

He pointed to the jar on the table.

"This is the final product. The base is made from dragon blood and mountain monster heart powder. We tried dozens of different ratios."

Regulus glanced down at the jar of ointment again, then looked up at Slughorn, his tone sincere: "Professor, thank you. I'm serious; this wasn't easy to make."

"It's not easy, it really isn't easy."

Slughorn reached out and took the jar. The lid snapped shut on itself, the runes on the sealing wax lit up again, and the sustaining spells on the outside of the jar resumed functioning.

"But for me, it just took a little time."

He pushed the jar back and placed it in front of Regulus, his smile fading slightly: "There are specific rules for using this medicine; you absolutely mustn't try to do it yourself."