“You seem quite interested in my potion office?” Snape didn’t answer directly, choosing instead to change the subject.
“Yes,” Leon admitted with a nod.
“Then be prepared to stay here in the evenings for the rest of the term.
I need you to help me process some troublesome ingredients, like sorting through a barrel of Flobberworms by hand,” Snape said with a sneer.
“No problem,” Leon accepted the decision calmly.
“You probably don’t know what a Flobberworm is, do you?” Seeing Leon nod without batting an eye, even looking rather expectant, Snape felt instantly annoyed.
“I don’t, but it shouldn’t be too dangerous.
As long as it’s just disgusting, I can handle it.” “Then let’s begin.” With that, Snape waved his wand, conjuring a large iron barrel from the corner of the room.
Before Leon could even lean in to look, he heard a dense, raspy friction coming from inside the barrel, followed by an overpowering, pungent stench.
“First, pick out the living Flobberworms that are in good condition, then use a spoon to scrape the mucus off their bodies and store it in this jar.
Make sure you don’t harm the Flobberworms themselves in the process.” After handing Leon a clean iron barrel and a large glass jar, Snape explained his requirements.
“Understood.” Leon didn’t hesitate, rolling up his sleeves and preparing to get to work.
These ten-inch-long, brown worms looked much like common caterpillars, and in the Ministry of Magic’s classification, they were rated as a mere X—a synonym for harmless.
Aside from being covered in thick, slime-like secretions, Leon couldn’t find any notable features about them, and naturally, he wasn’t afraid.
“You aren’t going to wear gloves?” Snape asked, looking at Leon with a speechless expression as the boy prepared to reach into the barrel with his bare hands.
“Oh?
I can wear gloves?” Leon paused.
He remembered that Harry had received the same punishment and Snape hadn’t allowed him to wear gloves, so he hadn’t even considered it.
“Of course, otherwise the secretions will leave a stench on your skin that you’ll never be able to wash off, and they might bite your hand,” Snape explained with forced patience.
He then fished a pair of old but intact dragon-hide gloves from his desk and tossed them to Leon.
Leon didn’t stand on ceremony.
After putting on the slightly oversized gloves, he began to work.
During the cleaning process, Leon unexpectedly discovered that these worms were surprisingly aggressive.
At least half of the Flobberworms in the barrel had been chewed to bits by their companions.
The sight of pulverized worm meat mixed with mucus, along with leftover vegetable stems and clumps of tangled worms, looked like a scene from hell.
If someone afraid of insects were here, they would likely have fainted at just a glance.
But Leon didn’t care.
He picked through them with nimble fingers while finding time to ponder a very serious question.
Could these worms be eaten if their innards were squeezed out and they were roasted with cumin and chili powder?
After all, a Flobberworm was still a magical creature.
Even at the lowest rating of X, it was still a magical creature and should qualify as a special ingredient.
It was a pity that these Flobberworms hadn’t been captured by Leon himself, so the system didn’t recognize them as a harvest.
He couldn’t use the talent granted upon his system awakening: Ingredient Analysis.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t need to guess about the edibility of these fat worms.
Although he was multitasking, Leon’s sorting speed didn’t slow down.
The work really wasn’t that difficult.
Grabbing a Flobberworm, if it moved, it was alive.
He just needed to check if it was injured and toss it into the clean barrel.
Out of the large barrel of Flobberworms, the final count of intact specimens filled only about a third of the clean container.
Afterward, Leon didn’t dawdle.
He picked up a spoon and began scraping the mucus from the surface of the Flobberworms.
The process was oddly satisfying, similar to the gratification one might get from trimming hooves.
Interestingly, after the mucus was scraped away, the worms would secrete a new layer.
It was no wonder Snape kept them around; they were a renewable resource.
If they weren’t so aggressive, raising Flobberworms might actually be a decent business venture.
If Leon remembered correctly, Flobberworm mucus was used to stabilize potion ingredients and could be found in the recipes for most brews.
Although fresh mucus had to be used in potion-making within twelve hours to prevent it from losing its thickening properties due to oxidation, as long as the boiling and purification processes were completed within that window, the viscous effect could be preserved for a long time.
While Leon was busy processing the Flobberworms, Snape, who was busy grading students’ Potion essays at his desk, would glance over at Leon every now and then.
Seeing Leon’s earnest and focused demeanor, Snape nodded to himself.
Soon, all the Flobberworms were processed.
Leon immediately asked Snape, “Professor, do they need to be fed?” “No, just move the barrel under that shelf over there.” Snape responded without lifting his head.
Only after Leon had placed the living Flobberworms in their spot did Snape speak again: “Before you leave, remember to take those dead Flobberworms with you.
Dump them in the drainage ditch at the end of the corridor, wash the bucket, and bring it back when you come tomorrow night.” “Understood.
I’ll be going then, Professor.
Get some rest.” After saying goodbye to Snape, Leon carried the bucket off to dispose of the waste.
As Leon closed the door and his footsteps faded away, Snape finally looked up, staring at the closed office door in a daze.
After disposing of the Flobberworm remains and cleaning the iron bucket and the dragon-hide gloves he had borrowed from Snape in the washroom, Leon returned to the dormitory to shower and change into fresh clothes.
The odor of the little creatures’ fluids was indeed unpleasant.
Even though Leon had tried to be careful, some of the splattered mucus had gotten on him.
Fortunately, it hadn’t touched his skin.
After changing and showering, the smell was practically gone.
As soon as he returned to the dormitory, Leon saw Munin standing by the glass window, watching the fish swimming in the Great Lake.
“Have you eaten yet?” Leon asked, seeing Munin in that position.
Munin shook his head, then flew onto Leon’s shoulder, nudging his head with its beak before pulling a letter out from under its wing.
Leon opened it directly and discovered the sender was his mother.
The content of the letter was brief—something he could read at a glance—but these few dozen words made Leon’s scalp tingle.