“Where do you think it would be best for me to extract the blood from, Professor?”
Harry was beginning to relish this level of caution; having a professor by his side providing one-on-one guidance was vastly superior to being alone on a ship, racking his brains over questions that had no standard answers.
Snape guided him toward the answer:
“Think about what you have read regarding the creature, Potter. That is, if you have truly been reading attentively and retained knowledge from One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi and Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. You should know—no, you must know—that Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures, an elective taken only in third year, are intricately bound to Potions. Now, tell me: what have you read in those books? Do not keep me waiting long.”
Harry pondered deeply, giving voice to his thoughts rather than keeping them to himself:
“Salamanders are prone to a disease known as scale rot, which can cause their tails to detach if left untreated. In the Muggle world, lizards also choose to sever their own tails to survive when encountering danger. Their tails possess extraordinary regenerative abilities, meaning extracting blood from its tail would be the most suitable approach.”
As he spoke, Snape offered no verbal correction.
Evidently, Harry’s analysis was correct.
Having double-checked every step of the procedure, he began the actual operation.
Holding the tweezers, Harry reached through the fire inside the glass jar and clamped onto the Salamander within.
Just as Snape had stated, it did not struggle in the slightest.
Holding a small knife, Harry cleanly sliced a small slit across its tail.
Fresh blood seeped from the wound, trickled down the tail, and dripped into the phial from the tip.
Snape’s low drawl rang out:
“Many young wizards, when required to cut into a living creature with their own hands for the first time in Potions class, exhibit a certain… respectable hesitation? That is only natural, Potter. That is basic human nature reminding them that the blade in their hand is not merely a tool. Yet you—I noticed your cut was clean, swift, and practically practiced. It makes me wonder: are you naturally adept at such things, or have you practiced on numerous other occasions?”
Harry considered this before replying:
“Perhaps it’s innate. Besides, it won’t die, will it? That was why I chose to draw blood from its tail, and as you mentioned earlier, Professor, I must extract a sufficient amount of blood before it dies or risk losing points. I needed to ensure it remained alive after drawing the blood.”
Indeed, the Salamander’s blood dripped down bit by bit from the tip of its tail, until inside the glass phial— This chapter was taken from novelping.com without permission.
“Professor, how much blood do I need to extract?”
He suddenly remembered that he seemed to have missed a step to ensure precision before beginning.
“…Less than half a drop—approximately 0.01 to 0.015 milliliters in Muggle units,” Snape supplied at the right moment.
Which meant—
Harry looked at the Salamander in his tweezers, which had begun to fade from bright red to a pale, almost ghastly hue.
It was already enough.
“Professor, now I need a—”
Harry was just about to speak when suddenly, the Salamander in his grip broke free from its Petrified state, struggling violently against the tweezers.
It thrashed its head continuously while swinging its tail, though its movements were noticeably weak due to blood loss.
Almost instinctively, Harry set down the knife in one hand and picked up another pair of tweezers, securing the Salamander from both ends to ensure it could not squirm around before returning it to the glass jar containing the fire.
“Professor, perhaps you could use a healing spell on it to close its wound and prevent further blood loss?” Harry suggested.
Snape shot him a deep, searching look before flicking a wand that appeared out of nowhere, softly chanting:
“Epeskey.”
Before Harry’s eyes, faint sparks of light glimmered from the tip of the wand, and the wound on the Salamander’s tail inside the glass jar healed at a visible speed.
“Marvelous magic,” Harry marvelled sincerely.
If he could master such magic, he would no longer suffer from external injuries—minor ones, at least.
He recalled that Epeskey was merely a basic healing charm, something young wizards learned in their second or third year.
“You did not seem panicked just now, Potter,” Snape remarked, setting the glass jar aside and gathering the extracted Salamander blood to store it away properly.
“A Salamander can survive for up to six hours out of fire, but the duration of Petrificus Totalus is only about two hours. I wasn’t certain when you had cast the spell, so I kept myself prepared.”
Snape paced back and forth.
“…That is merely the passing grade in textbooks, Potter,” he said, coming to a sudden halt.
“The duration of a charm depends on the wizard. A two-hour duration for Petrificus Totalus is the bare minimum pass mark—a third-year evaluation standard, assuming Flitwick hasn’t altered his syllabus this year.”
Pausing, Snape turned to stand in a dark corner.
“Normally, a Salamander weighs roughly 19 grams, with its total blood volume being about 5% to 8% of its body weight—meaning a total of only 0.95 to 1.52 milliliters. For a valuable Salamander, the safe amount of blood extracted typically does not exceed 1% of its total blood. That means a safe extraction is roughly 0.01 to 0.015 milliliters—less than half a drop. The correct procedure is to use a silver needle with a 0.2 millimeter tip to puncture its tail, then collect the needle and the attached blood into a glass phial, rather than slicing its tail open with a knife.”
Harry chimed in at the appropriate moment:
“I am very sorry, Professor. I should have gained a clearer understanding and prepared a more suitable glass phial to collect the blood.”
Granted, Snape had indeed failed to provide proper guidance beforehand.
Furthermore, extracting Salamander blood was material for at least a fourth- or fifth-year Potions class.
Yet Snape’s next words made him realize he was genuinely in the wrong.
“Yes, Potter, you should feel sorry, because if done properly, this poor Salamander could have repeatedly provided you with blood until your graduation, or even longer. But if you act as clumsily as you just did, you will pay the price for your mistake—at least 200 Galleons, which is its market price.”
“Of course, you could also go buy pre-packaged blood from apothecaries in Knockturn Alley or Diagon Alley, but they will only sell you blood already extracted by others—the remnants left by an aged, drained Salamander. When that time comes, Potter, you will have lost not only money, but also the opportunity to learn the correct procedure firsthand. I suggest next time before you act, you consider how much is left in that vault of yours.”
Snape’s icy words reminded Harry that just moments ago, he had taken a blade to 200 gold Galleons!
Hey!
A brand new dragonhide robe capable of deflecting certain spells only cost 60 Galleons.
Yet this single Salamander cost 200 Galleons—and it was practically priceless on the market!