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Double Chapter!
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Opening his eyes, Harry looked at Snape, the whole class hanging on his every word. But he first analyzed for the last time. 'The potion he proposes, would result in a more robust and potentially more potent brew. The early addition of the Snake Fangs sets a strong foundational reaction, enhanced by the Pungous Onions. The Flobberworm Mucus and ginger root provide a balanced texture and warmth. The Shrake spines, if added gently, could add a layer of complexity. The horned slugs and porcupine quills solidify the potion's properties. Finally, the wand wave at the end would bind all elements together. It is bloody brilliant.'
Harry paused, then thought, 'However, the risk of volatility is higher, especially with the Shrake spines. The timing of each ingredient would be crucial to prevent an adverse reaction.'
Harry stood before Snape, his expression calm and focused. He carefully considered the unique application of the potion ingredients Snape had suggested. Drawing on his extensive practice in the Virtual Potion Creation Room, Harry mentally calculated the optimal formula, incorporating Snape's instructions while making subtle adjustments to ensure the potion's stability and potency.
"Professor," Harry began, "adding the crushed snake fangs first would indeed initiate a strong reaction. The key is to stir them gently to avoid over-activation. As for the Pungous Onions, slicing them finely is crucial, but they should be added after a brief heating of the snake fangs to optimize their integration."
Harry paused, "The dried nettles should follow, but their addition must be timed precisely with the reduction of heat to prevent the potion from becoming too bitter."
He glanced at the cauldron, envisioning the next steps. "A dash of Flobberworm Mucus should be added next. However, the stirring should be more deliberate and measured, rather than vigorous, to maintain the potion's consistency."
"The powdered ginger root," Harry continued, "while adding a nice warmth, should be sprinkled in sparingly. An overabundance could overpower the other ingredients."
He took a deep breath, considering the most volatile component. "The pickled Shrake spines are the trickiest part. They must be stirred gently, as too much agitation could destabilize the entire brew."
Harry then addressed the final ingredients. "The stewed horned slugs add a unique binding quality, but their addition should be followed by a brief pause before the porcupine quills. The quills themselves should be added one at a time, ensuring even distribution throughout the potion."
Finally, Harry concluded, "A wand wave at the end is essential to bind the elements together harmoniously. However, the wand movement should be more of a gentle swirl than a sharp motion to avoid disrupting the potion's delicate balance."
Snape, listening intently, was visibly astounded. Harry, with his eyes closed for just a few minutes, had not only taken his challenging formula but refined it with precision and understanding. Snape couldn't help but wonder how an eleven-year-old could demonstrate such innate talent and intuition for potion-making. What he didn't know was that Harry had experimented with over half a million variations of the Cure for Boils potion in the Virtual Potion Creation Room.
Harry called to Nigel in his mind, "Nigel, please run a simulation on this new formula. I've created a mental clone for the process."
Nigel, ever efficient, quickly activated the Virtual Potion Creation Room. A clone of Harry materialized within this virtual space, surrounded by all the necessary ingredients and equipment. The clone, mimicking Harry's movements and thought processes, began meticulously following the revised formula, allowing Harry to observe and adjust the procedure in real-time.
Meanwhile, in the physical classroom, an unforeseen situation was unfolding. As Snape and Harry's intense discussion had captivated the class, the students' potions had been left unattended. Now, several cauldrons began to quiver ominously, a clear sign they were on the verge of boiling over or, worse, exploding.
Harry, keenly aware of his surroundings despite his mental engagement with Nigel, was the first to notice the impending disaster. Without hesitation, he darted from his spot, grabbing a handful of key ingredients from the nearest shelf. His movements were swift and precise, a testament to his agility and quick thinking.
As he rushed to the first cauldron, which was bubbling dangerously high, he swiftly added a pinch of Dried Nettle Leaves, followed by a carefully measured amount of Flobberworm Mucus. The potion's violent reaction calmed instantly, settling into a gentle simmer.
Moving to the next cauldron, Harry quickly assessed its condition. He noted the potion's unusually thick consistency and quickly deduced the issue. Reaching for his pouch, he pulled out a small vial of distilled water, adding it to the cauldron. The potion's thickness dissipated, returning it to its proper state.
Snape, jarred from his stupor by the commotion, waved his wand in a broad arc. A series of calculated spell incantations followed, stabilizing the potions that Harry hadn't reached yet. His eyes, however, remained fixed on Harry, observing his student's adept handling of the situation.
In the Virtual Potion Creation Room, Harry's clone continued the brewing process under Nigel's watchful guidance. "A bit more ginger root now," Nigel suggested, his voice echoing in the virtual space. The clone, following Nigel's advice, carefully sprinkled the ginger, ensuring its even distribution throughout the potion.
Back in the physical classroom, Harry's swift intervention had prevented what could have been a series of disastrous explosions. His classmates, realizing the danger they had narrowly avoided, murmured among themselves, their expressions a mix of relief and admiration.
Snape, having ensured the safety of the remaining cauldrons, approached Harry. His usual sneer was absent, replaced by a look of grudging respect. "Good work, Potter," he said, his voice low. "Not only do you show an uncanny understanding of potion-making, but you also demonstrate a remarkable presence of mind."
Harry, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow, replied calmly, "Thank you, sir. I believe it's essential to be aware of one's environment, especially in a potentially volatile setting like a potions class."
Snape nodded, his eyes lingering on Harry for a moment longer before he turned to address the class. "Let this be a lesson to all of you. Potion-making requires constant attention and respect for the craft. Mr. Potter's quick thinking has just saved many of you from a visit to the hospital wing. 30 points to Slytherin."
The class, now fully attentive, turned their focus back to their cauldrons, their earlier negligence replaced by a newfound sense of caution. Harry, satisfied with the outcome, returned to his station, where Neville was waiting, a look of awe on his face.
"Harry, that was incredible," Neville exclaimed, his voice tinged with admiration.
Harry patted Neville's shoulder with a reassuring smile. "It's all about practice, Neville. Potion-making is an art that requires precision and patience. With your understanding of herbology, you only lack practice."
As Harry spoke, he turned to Nigel, inquiring silently in his mind, "Nigel, what's the result?"
The AI assistant responded promptly, "82%, Master Harry. Incredible. To think, without infusing magic, the potion could increase above 80%. It surpasses even my initial calculations."
Harry nodded, impressed. Snape's expertise in the art of potion-making was indeed profound. His challenge had provided Harry with a valuable learning opportunity, pushing him to explore the depths of his potion-making skills.
With a sense of accomplishment, Harry then approached Daphne and Tracey. Both girls were struggling with their own potion, the contents of their cauldron bubbling unevenly.
"Need some help?" Harry asked, his tone friendly yet confident.
Daphne, her blonde hair falling over her face as she peered into the cauldron, looked up with a mixture of relief and gratitude. "Yes, please, Potter. We can't seem to get the consistency right."
Harry leaned over their cauldron, observing the color and viscosity of the potion. "Ah, I see the problem. You've added too much Horned Slugs, and it's unbalanced the potion."
Tracey, her dark eyes reflecting her eagerness to learn, asked, "How do we fix it?"
Harry reached for a jar of dried nettles from the nearby shelf. "You need to counteract the excess mucus. Adding a small amount of dried nettles should do the trick."
He carefully measured a pinch of nettles, then sprinkled them into the cauldron, stirring gently. "Now, stir it slowly in a clockwise direction."
As Daphne and Tracey followed Harry's instructions, the potion began to transform, the previously uneven mixture smoothing out into a consistent, velvety texture.
"That's it," Harry encouraged. "You're getting the hang of it."
Daphne smiled, a hint of admiration in her eyes. "Thanks, Potter. We owe you one."
Harry shrugged modestly. "No worries. We're all here to learn, after all."
As he stepped back, allowing Daphne and Tracey to finish their potion, Nigel's voice resonated in his mind, tinged with his characteristic dry humor. "Master Harry, at this rate, you might just become the unofficial potions tutor for Slytherin."
Harry chuckled silently at Nigel's comment, the idea was not bad, but he doubted Snape would allow it. He then moved through the classroom, assisting other students where needed. His classmates were beginning to recognize his proficiency in potion-making, and his willingness to help further enhanced his standing among them.
Throughout the class, Snape observed Harry closely, his dark eyes betraying a mix of skepticism and curiosity. Harry's display of skill and his helpful demeanor were not what Snape had expected from James Potter's son, and it seemed to unsettle him. 'He is more of Lily it seems.'
As the class drew to a close, Harry carefully labeled his bottled potion with a precise handwriting. He placed it on Snape's desk for evaluation, confident in its quality.
When the bell rang signaling the end of the potions class, the students began to file out of the dungeon, their chatter echoing off the stone walls. Harry, however, lingered behind, his gaze fixed thoughtfully on Professor Snape. Snape, who was meticulously organizing his desk, looked up at Harry's prolonged presence. "What is it, Potter? Do you want to volunteer to clean cauldrons?" he asked with a hint of sarcasm.
Harry, unfazed by Snape's tone, approached the desk with a calm demeanor. "Sir, I would like to be blunt, and I ask for your forgiveness in advance, as I don't mean to offend. But why are you probing my mind?" he inquired, his voice steady and direct.
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