Hogwarts: Proficiency Panel Chapter 63: Swelling Solution

The Swelling Solution, as its na implied, caused parts of an object (or person) to swell dramatically. Sean wasn't entirely sure of its practical applications, only that, like most potions, brewing it incorrectly or misusing it could have severe consequences. He recalled the incident in second year when Harry had thrown a firework into Goyle's cauldron during a Swelling Solution lesson, causing the potion to splash everywhere and resulting in various students suffering grotesquely swollen arms, noses, and eyes.

With that cautionary tale in mind, Sean watched Professor Snape's demonstration with intense focus, his Quick-Quotes Quill scratching diligently beside him.

Grind two spoonfuls of dried nettles… crush three puffer-fish eyes… combine the powders in the cauldron… heat for twenty seconds… wave wand…

Snape's instructions often deviated from the textbook, sotis significantly altering steps. Any student foolish enough to let their attention wander and rely solely on the book risked disaster. Perhaps, Sean mused, this was part of the reason for Snape's intimidating, hyper-vigilant teaching style.

"If your empty skulls have managed to retain any of that information," Snape sneered, vanishing the perfectly brewed demonstration potion with a flick of his wand, "then you will now pair up and begin." He swept his gaze across the terrified students.

The clinking and clattering of Potion ingredients filled the dungeon as the students nervously began their work.

After so ti, most pairs were approaching the final stages.

"…Prepare the final ingredient… stew until a layer of white foam appears on the surface…" Justin read from his notes, looking even more anxious than Sean, who was actually stirring the cauldron.

Professor Snape was prowling the aisles, his dark eyes missing nothing, ready to intervene at the first sign of trouble. As he passed Sean and Justin's table, he paused, his gaze briefly flicking over Justin's ticulously copied notes. Hmph. Passably detailed. Barely adequate…

"Oh, but Sean," Justin suddenly whispered, his voice tight with panic, "why is our foam blue?" A dark cloud lood over their table, and Justin, already tense, began to tremble.

Sean, looking pale, turned to his friend and delivered the verdict that made Justin's heart sink: "We've failed."

Justin didn't dare look up, bracing himself for the inevitable explosion.

"Redo it! You incompetent fools!" Snape roared, though Justin noted with imnse relief that no points were deducted.

As Snape swept away, Justin spoke quietly. "You look awful, Sean. Do you want to rest for a bit? I can handle this." He took over the cauldron, carefully beginning the preparation process again.

Sean leaned back, breathing heavily. He had underestimated the lingering drain from using Borage's modified ritual and willpower-channeling technique. It felt like a magical overdraft, granting a temporary boost in exchange for a period of profound weakness. He had felt the spell falter during the final stage, his own magical output simply insufficient.

He took several deep breaths, then noticed a small paper bag placed quietly on the table beside him.

"Take a break? Have sothing sweet," Justin murmured, carefully monitoring the bubbling cauldron. "New recipe. Scottish Highland berry fudge."

Sean nodded gratefully, accepting a piece. He assessed his remaining energy. Enough for a few simple charms, perhaps, but certainly not enough for another complex brewing attempt. Potion-making, he realized, demanded a higher baseline of both magical power and ntal fortitude than simple spellcasting. No wonder true Potion Masters were so rare.

It also highlighted the incredible power amplification provided by wands and incantations. He could probably cast the Levitation Charm three or four tis with his current energy, achieving an effect comparable to a Levitation Draught. Yet, attempting to brew such a draught right now would likely knock him unconscious.

As Sean collected his thoughts, occasionally reminding Justin of a specific detail from his notes, Snape returned, clutching his infamous grade book like a weapon.

"Bones, Susan! Turpin, Lisa! Troll-level ingredient preparation! I imagine you failed utterly to process the puffer-fish eyes correctly," he sneered at two girls whose cauldron contained a thick, sludgy ss. "One point from each of you! And what are you waiting for?! Do you expect the potion to brew itself?!" He swept away just as Susan's eyes began to well up.

"Macmillan, Ernie! If you stir clockwise one more ti, you will exit my classroom imdiately! At least then the resulting explosion will be contained! Two points from Hufflepuff!" Ernie hastily consulted his textbook, nearly pressing his nose to the page.

"Barely acceptable, Corner. What are you waiting for? Do you intend to let the potion spoil?!"

He moved through the room like a relentless point-deducting storm cloud, invisible numbers hovering over his head: '-1,' '-2,' '-1'…

Sean and Justin braced themselves as Snape approached their table again. But this ti, the Potions Master paused, glanced briefly at their steadily simring cauldron, and… moved on without a word.

"Phew…" Justin let out a shaky breath.

Sean, however, frowned, looking down at a small, crystal phial that had mysteriously appeared in his hand. It contained a clear, shimring liquid. A small label affixed to it bore a single, curt instruction: Drink.

Even after leaving the dungeons, Sean felt slightly dazed. The potion Snape had given him had only one effect: revitalization. It felt similar to a Pepperup Potion but seed specifically targeted at restoring magical energy. The mont he drank it, he felt his reserves replenish, and even the long climb back up the tower felt less strenuous.

Back in the empty dungeon, Severus Snape stared for a long ti at the cauldron containing Sean's failed potion, the blue foam a stark indicator of insufficient magical input. The grade book lay open in his hand, showing a single line:

Sean Green. Guardian: None.

In the Great Hall, the usual lunchti clamor filled the vast space. Golden plates and goblets glead under the light of thousands of floating candles. Students chattered happily over their porridge, bacon, and pumpkin juice.

"Sean," Justin said quietly, spearing a piece of pudding, "my mother often says, sunrises are free, and sunsets are too." He looked at Sean, his pale grey eyes full of sincere concern. "So, if you're tired, just rest."

Sean nodded silently.

Until—

"Eye of rabbit, harp string hum, turn this water into rum!"

Sean blinked, startled. Seamus Finnigan was sitting nearby, pointing his wand determinedly at his goblet of water.