With a wave of his wand, Harry transformed the giant serpent back into the fallen log it once was, and the basilisk powder returned neatly to the Sorting Hat.
"These supplies are not meant to be carried around as extra weight," Harry patiently explained. "You two looked great using magic to handle those spiders."
"But you need to think beyond just one fight."
"This is the Forbidden Forest—it's dangerous. After the Acromantulas, who knows what other creatures might appear?"
"You need to conserve your energy for potential follow-up attacks."
Both Ron and Hermione nodded obediently.
"If there's an easier solution, always use it." Harry transfigured two scraps of parchment into small knives, floating one over to Ron. "And always remember what you're carrying with you."
Ron caught the knife with a puzzled expression. "Harry, what's this for?"
"Acromantula venom dries up quickly after they die," Harry explained, walking over to one of the spider corpses. He donned a pair of dragon-hide gloves from the Sorting Hat and took out an empty glass vial.
"Be sure to protect yourself. Their venom is highly toxic. Watch my movements closely: cut open the head from the top, locate the venom sac, and pierce it carefully from below to collect the venom."
As he spoke, he demonstrated the technique, collecting a small amount of deep purple liquid that pooled at the bottom of the vial.
"I made sure you both packed gloves and vials. Now get to it, but take your time—there's no rush," Harry instructed, turning to Ron. "If you do get poisoned, I have antidotes ready."
Ron hesitated, his revulsion for spiders evident in his grimace. "Harry, do I have to touch these things?"
"One pint of Acromantula venom sells for a hundred Galleons," Hermione said in an airy tone, her words laced with subtle encouragement.
Ron froze. After a cough and a moment of deliberation, he reluctantly pulled on his gloves and approached the nearest spider carcass. "I suppose I should overcome my fear a little more. It's a great opportunity for… personal growth."
Despite his unease, Ron managed to collect the first vial of venom. As he moved to the next spider, he paused and looked back at Harry. "What happens to all this venom?"
"It's your and Hermione's spoils of war," Harry replied without hesitation. "Since I handled the final phase and drove off the swarm, I'll take a tenth of what I collect. The rest is yours to split evenly."
Ron's jaw hung open, his thoughts swimming with images of glittering Galleons. Half the total? Even if they only managed a pint, that would be fifty Galleons!
Motivated by the promise of gold, Ron worked faster and more efficiently.
An hour later, they had processed all the spider corpses.
"Why is there so little?" Ron stared at the combined yield of two vials, still far from a pint, and felt a twinge of disappointment.
Harry shrugged. "It can't be helped. If you want more, you'll need to capture a live Acromantula for milking—one adult can produce about a pint of venom."
Ron's eyes sparkled at the suggestion, and the spider carcasses on the ground suddenly seemed far less repulsive.
Harry levitated a third glass vial, carefully measured out a tenth of the venom, and distributed the rest evenly between Ron and Hermione.
"This should be worth about twenty Galleons," Ron muttered, clutching his vial carefully before hesitating. He then walked over to Harry and slipped the vial into the Sorting Hat.
The hat let out a resigned sigh, as though it had grown used to being used for such purposes.
"It's probably worth a little more," Harry noted. "We'll measure it properly when we get back. Planning to sell it to me?"
Ron hesitated, then watched as Hermione deposited her own vial into the hat. Gritting his teeth, he made up his mind. "No, I'm giving it to you. I mean, I'm hopeless in Potions anyway, and…"
"Keeping someone else's spoils is a bad habit," Harry interrupted firmly. "And besides, this is your first time. It deserves a good price."
Ron spread his hands. "Fine, half price!"
With a pained expression, he added, "Don't argue—I've learned so much from you, Harry. That knowledge is worth far more than this venom."
Harry smiled and nodded in agreement.
They stayed in the Forbidden Forest until dusk, even stopping for a quick lunch. Several unfortunate rabbits ended up as a delicious outdoor meal. To Ron and Hermione's astonishment, Harry managed to pull cumin, chili powder, and salt out of the Sorting Hat.
As they left the forest, Ron and Hermione had barely begun reflecting on their eventful day when they ran into Hagrid.
"Harry? And Ron and Hermione?" Hagrid called out in surprise. He was struggling to lead a Thestral back to his cabin, likely negotiating with it to have its herd participate in his next lesson for the fifth years.
"What's this, Hagrid?" Ron asked, raising an eyebrow. "Wrestling with thin air?"
"Thestrals, right?" Hermione guessed, recalling the unique invisible creatures vividly.
"Clever as ever, Hermione! In class, I'd give you points for that. But what brings you three out here—"
Ron cut him off, pulling a half-eaten roasted rabbit leg from his pocket and handing it to him. "We roasted this ourselves. Want a taste?"
Hagrid popped the offering into his mouth, bones and all, chewing noisily. "Tasty! But what brings you—"
"Are Thestrals next on our lesson plan?" Hermione interrupted, her curiosity piqued. "Most students can't even see them, right?"
Hagrid shook his head. "No, they're for the fifth years. There are other ways to observe them…"
"You know," he began, launching into one of his tangents, "Thestrals are fascinating creatures…"
Before he could fully dive into lecture mode, Harry cut in. "Hagrid, we need to get back to the castle for dinner."
Hagrid nodded reluctantly. "Oh, alright. See you in Monday's class."
The three waved politely and continued on their way.
Behind them, Hagrid struggled with the Thestral again, only to suddenly remember the question he hadn't managed to ask. "Hey, Harry! Why were you three—"
Harry pointed ahead. "Hagrid, careful! The Thestral's spreading its wings!"
Startled, Hagrid turned back to calm the creature. By the time he subdued it and looked around again, the trio had disappeared.
Hagrid sighed deeply.
"Gryffindors… getting wilder every year."
"Third-years sneaking into the Forbidden Forest…"
Back in the Great Hall, they arrived just in time for dinner.
Ron wolfed down two lamb chops, six Swedish meatballs, a bowl of creamy soup, and a piece of white bread slathered with gravy. He leaned back, patting his stomach with satisfaction. "Nothing beats a good meal."
"There's something better," Harry said, setting his fork down with a grin.
Ron froze mid-stretch, his face falling. "Please don't tell me it's more homework."
"You're sharp as ever," Harry said cheerfully. "We encountered over ten magical creatures today, faced several battles, and learned valuable survival skills."
"Write a ten-inch essay on combat strategies, survival techniques, and creature handling. It's due tomorrow."
Ron let out a dramatic groan. "Harry, you're—you're…"
He struggled for the right words before finally blurting, "You're like a mix of McGonagall and Snape!"
"Snape's sarcasm and McGonagall's homework assignments, all rolled into one. The next Gryffindor Head of House? Definitely you."
Harry's reminder was sharp. "And make sure it's standard font size and spacing. No tricks to pad the length."
Defeated, Ron slumped over. "Merlin's beard, Harry. You just closed my last escape route."
"Harry's doing this for our own good," Hermione interjected seriously. "Without him, that Jarvey we encountered could've cost us our lives."
Jarveys weren't particularly dangerous, but their incessant insults and high-pitched chatter could drive anyone mad.
Unfortunately, the one they encountered was nesting near Devil's Snare. Without Harry's guidance, they might've lost their minds and been strangled by the magical vines.
The encounter haunted Hermione.
"I know," Ron muttered, saluting mockingly. "I'll diligently complete Professor Potter's assignment."
Back in the common room, Ron and Hermione began their essays, surrounded by stacks of books.
Their sudden studiousness unnerved the other Gryffindors, who couldn't reconcile this serious side of Ron with his usual weekend laziness.
Inspired, a few others reluctantly set aside their games and picked up their textbooks.
Later, Harry carefully measured the venom: 5.2 fluid ounces. He handed thirteen Galleons to Ron, whose renewed vigor had him scribbling furiously.
Fred and George, sensing an opportunity, sidled up to Harry.
"Hey, Harry," Fred whispered. "Was that Acromantula venom I saw you measuring?"
Harry nodded. "Need some?"
George shook his head. "Not for us. But Ron mentioned a detailed Forbidden Forest map. How about a trade?"
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Powerstones?
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