Harry Potter and the Old Ones

On the second Wednesday after Christmas, Harry soon had another Potions lesson taught by Horace Slughorn.

This made Harry somewhat expectant, because he might finally have the opportunity to once again mention to Horace Slughorn the matter of asking him to give him a private lesson to teach him Occlumency.

Perhaps after discussing it with Tiera, or perhaps just on his own whim or whim, Horace Slughorn also decided to give a quiz after Christmas——

Horace Slughorn announced the news last Wednesday, the first class after Christmas, and said that he would give everyone a quiz during this class.

The quizzes were already on everyone’s desks the moment they entered the classroom——

They work in groups of two, and each group has a glass bottle containing drugs of different colors on the test stand.

Their task today is to use one class to brew an antidote that can undo the poison on the table.

This unrestrained, free and unscrupulous testing method made Harry very distressed. He pulled off the cap of the poison bottle on his and Ron's experimental table, which was colored like a tacky pink juice drink, and poured it into the crucible. And a fire was kindled below.

He had no idea what to do next. He glanced at Ron, who was standing there imitating everything Harry did, looking even more stupid.

"Are you sure the prince didn't have any hints?" Ron whispered to Harry.

Harry pulled out his trusty old copy of Advanced Potion-Making and turned to the chapter on antidotes. It's all the third law of Gelrod just as Hermione memorized it, and the prince didn't write a word to indicate that there is no different understanding of it.

"Nothing," Harry said frustratedly.

Hermione was feverishly casting spells on her cauldron.

Unfortunately, they couldn't imitate her spells, as she was now so good at silent spells that she didn't have to say them out loud.

However, Elnos, a Hufflepuff girl, muttered loudly into her cauldron: "Special boiling!"

It sounded so impressive that Harry and Ron quickly imitated her look.

Five minutes later, Harry recognized that the voice calling him the best potions maker in his class would ring in his ears.

When Slug walked around the underground classroom for the first time, he looked hopefully into his cauldron, ready to exclaim with joy as usual. However, he turned his head hastily and coughed, because there was no A hint of pride.

He hated not being able to complete a task in every Potions lesson.

Hermione was filling her mysterious potion ingredients into ten different vials and seemed to have an idea.

In order not to watch this annoying scene anymore, Harry took out the book of the Half-Blood Prince and turned back a few pages pointlessly.

Under the long list of antidotes, some words were scrawled:

"Just shove the bezoar down their throats."

Harry stared at the words for a moment.

Had he ever heard of something called bezoar before?

ah! correct!

Harry suddenly remembered the dozen notebooks Tiera had given him before Potions class in the first year. There seemed to be this sentence on it -

"A stone taken from a cow's stomach can cure most poisons."

This wasn't an answer to Grobault's question, Harry wouldn't have dared to do this if Snape was still their teacher, but this was a time for desperate measures.

He needs to win Horace Slughorn's favor -

At least for this class.

Harry looked around helplessly——

He didn't see Tiera in today's Potions class.

To be precise, he had never seen Tiera in any class other than Dark Arts since Christmas.

If it weren't for Professor Tiera who was still taking breakfast, lunch and dinner step by step in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, Harry would have thought that Tiera had all left Hogwarts.

But now is not a world that gives Harry time to think about where Tiera has gone. The time for this little assessment is coming soon. Harry hurriedly walked to the storage cabinet, rummaged around inside, and took out the unicorn horn. Pushing aside the chaotic herbs, he found a cardboard box at the back with "Bezoar" scrawled on it.

"Time's up!" Horace Slughorn said cheerfully, "Okay, students, let's take a look at your results! Barras...what have you done?"

Horace Slughorn moved slowly around the room, examining the various antidotes.

No one finished the job, although Hermione tried to add more ingredients to the bottle before Slug arrived.

Ron gave up completely and was just trying to avoid breathing in the strong putrid smell emanating from his cauldron.

Harry stood waiting, clutching the bezoar in his hand.

Horace Slughorn finally reached their table.

He despised Elnos' potion and showed a pained expression as he passed Ron.

He didn't stay by Ron's cauldron for even a second, and quickly left with his back turned, looking as if he was disgusted.

"Well, Harry," he said, "what are you going to show me?"

Harry held out his hand, the bezoar in his palm.

Horace Slughorn stared at it for ten seconds.

Harry was waiting for Horace Slughorn's criticism to come, but soon—

He turned his head and laughed loudly.

"Well, well, well, you have courage, kid!" Horace Slughorn declared loudly, holding up the bezoar for the whole class to see. "Oh, you're just like your mother...I can't blame you...the bezoar does work as an antidote to these potions!"

Hermione looked livid, her face was beaded with sweat and her nose was caked with cigarette ash.

She was halfway through the antidote, using fifty-two ingredients including some of her own hair, and watched Harry intently from behind Slug.

"You, completely, thought of using bezoar on your own, didn't you, Harry?" Hermione asked through gritted teeth.

"That's the personal touch a true potion maker needs!" Horace Slughorn said cheerfully before Harry had a chance to reply. "Like her mother, she had the same ideas and instincts when it came to potions, and he undoubtedly inherited it from Lily... Yes, Harry, yes, if you have a bezoar on your hands, of course that's a Tricks...but they don't work on everything, and they're rare, and it's still worth learning how to mix antidotes..."