To Vaughn, Potions were essentially another form of spellcasting.
This was the core philosophy he had organized into a research paper when he was ten years old and later published in the Exceptional Potioneer Association’s journal, Extraordinary Potions.
It was also the most controversial part of his work.
Potions had always been regarded as a relatively independent field.
In the eyes of many potioneers, only the fragrant steam rising from a cauldron truly represented the mysterious and omnipotent nature of magic.
As long as they carried enough potions, there was no need to “wave a wand like an idiot” or cast a bunch of “flashy spells.” They could accomplish all kinds of tasks with ease.
Not to mention that many illnesses and curse injuries could only be treated through Potions.
That superiority led them to look down on other magical disciplines.
Vaughn’s theory had clearly violated one of their taboos.
Not all of them disagreed with his ideas.
Many simply didn’t want to see change.
Some were old-fashioned conservatives intoxicated by their own glory.
Some were beneficiaries of the existing system—after all, the more mysterious Potions remained, the easier it was to maintain a monopoly.
And some were simply idiots.
That last assessment had actually come from Professor Snape in a newspaper interview.
The concept promoted in Vaughn’s paper was simple: Allow magic itself to participate more directly in the brewing process, just as it did when casting spells.
For example, right now.
As he sprinkled powdered snake fangs into the cauldron, Vaughn drew his wand and lightly tapped the rim.
A thin strand of magic flowed into the potion.
Hermione stared with wide eyes.
Magic itself was invisible, so all she could see was the snake fang powder falling into the liquid.
“Snake fangs are the primary ingredient.
Their role in the recipe is toxin absorption.
But remember—they don’t actually possess that ability themselves.
What we need is their characteristic.” As Vaughn spoke softly, tiny specks of light separated from the powdered snake fangs.
The remaining powder sank to the bottom of the cauldron.
“Once toxin absorption is solved, the next step is treatment and detoxification.
For something simple like boils, horned slugs and dried nettles are sufficient.
Horned slugs are generally used for wound healing, while dried nettles neutralize the toxins after they’ve been absorbed.” His wand continued tapping the cauldron.
As additional ingredients were added, more glowing currents emerged within the potion.
They shimmered with a faint pink hue.
Hermione hugged her textbook tightly.
Her lips parted slightly as she watched everything unfold.
“These are…” “Yes.
The characteristics of the ingredients, Hermione.” Vaughn nodded.
“I’m extracting them with magic and allowing you to see them.
In the traditional Cure for Boils recipe, the final step involving porcupine quills serves precisely this purpose—extracting the characteristic.
The quills themselves don’t actually participate in the treatment process.” “So my magic allows me to skip that step entirely.” As he spoke, Vaughn extinguished the flame beneath the cauldron and stirred clockwise five times.
“Five rotations.
No more, no less.” “This is the other key point I mentioned before.” “Ritual.” “Numbers possess magical significance within the ritual structure of this recipe.” “Look.” Hermione focused intently.
Inside the cauldron, the once-layered potion, filled with different colors and textures, began swirling as Vaughn completed the fifth stir and flicked his wand.
Round and round it spun.
Then suddenly— The entire potion transformed into a brilliant blue liquid.
Clear.
Pure.
Without a single trace of impurity.
It looked even better than the finished product pictured in the textbook.
Before Hermione could express her amazement, Snape swooped over like a bat.
Leaning forward, he stared into the cauldron.
For the first time, a trace of surprise appeared in his lifeless eyes.
He dipped a finger into the potion, brought it to his nose, and sniffed.
“No pungent odor from the porcupine quills…” His gaze shifted to Vaughn.
“You improved the formula?” Vaughn nodded.
“Yes, Professor.” “Using the magical extraction method you proposed last year?” Vaughn smiled.
“That’s right.
Though at the moment, it only works with simple potions.
The more advanced the potion, the more ingredient characteristics it requires, and the more complex those characteristics become.” “It takes a tremendous amount of time to understand them, experiment with them, and discover the proper methods.” “But I think the idea has tremendous value.” “In traditional recipes, an additional ingredient—or sometimes several ingredients—is often required simply to perform the final extraction process.” “Those ingredients inevitably affect the potion’s overall effectiveness.” “Some are even toxic.” “Of course, side effects and toxicity can be tolerated if they guarantee a successful brew.” “But isn’t it better if we can eliminate them entirely?” Snape fell silent.
He said nothing more.
As he turned away, however, the class finally heard him speak.
“Ten points to Slytherin.” “Vaughn Weasley.
Granger.” “Go assist our Longbottom and Finnegan.
I suspect they may actually be trolls in disguise.” “Ron Weasley, what are you staring at?
Why don’t you learn something from your brother?” Harry heard Ron mutter beside him.
“I don’t want to learn from him.” Harry remained silent.
After a moment, he whispered, “Next Potions class, I want to partner with Vaughn.” Ron immediately widened his eyes.
“Traitor!” Meanwhile, following the instructions of their beloved Professor Snape, Vaughn and Hermione headed over to Neville and Seamus’s workstation.
Neville looked close to tears.
After being relentlessly criticized by Snape throughout the lesson and losing five points, he had completely lost confidence in himself.
“I’m sorry, Vaughn.
I’m just too stupid.
I can never remember anything.” “It’s fine, Neville.
Just follow the textbook carefully.
Don’t panic.” Perhaps because Vaughn had helped him before, Neville trusted him completely despite his Slytherin affiliation.
The kind-hearted, chubby boy was actually very obedient.
Apart from having a poor memory and being a bit prone to tears, he was genuinely earnest.
At least when it came to someone he trusted like Vaughn.
Whatever Vaughn told him, he followed exactly, step by step.
Seamus, on the other hand, was considerably more troublesome.
Or perhaps he truly possessed some hidden talent.
Even with Hermione watching him closely, he nearly caused a disaster during the final stage of brewing.
The moment came when he needed to add the porcupine quills.
Without extinguishing the flame, he grabbed a handful and tossed them straight into the cauldron.
Fortunately, Vaughn had been keeping an eye on him.
He immediately cast the Levitation Charm and intercepted the quills midair.
Otherwise, the classroom would likely have experienced a major catastrophe.
When exposed to high temperatures, porcupine quills would transform the potion into a highly corrosive liquid.
They could also trigger an explosion.
As a result, Professor Snape’s opinion of Gryffindor dropped even further.
He seized the opportunity to deduct additional points.
By the time class ended and the Gryffindors were heading back toward their tower, Seamus was still trying to explain himself to Hermione.
“I was just nervous!
Snape kept circling around me the whole time.
The pressure was enormous!” Hermione’s face remained stern.
Her clear voice carried a sharp edge.
“Then why didn’t you pay more attention?
Professor Snape certainly didn’t force you to leave the fire burning!” Feeling embarrassed, Seamus became irritated and stopped talking to her.
Watching the exchange, Ron turned to Harry.
“She’s way too serious.
She always makes people feel terrible.” As Hermione approached, Harry quickly changed the subject.
“Tomorrow’s the weekend.
How about we visit Hagrid?” Hagrid had sent him a letter earlier that day, inviting him to stop by his hut.
Unfortunately, Ron completely missed the hint.
“Sure.
But it’d be better if we didn’t bring her.” “I don’t want to spend the whole day listening to someone tell me this is wrong and that’s wrong…” Hermione pressed her lips together.
The expression instantly reminded Harry of Professor McGonagall.
Without a word, she veered aside and marched past them.
As she did, she bumped into Ron hard enough to make him stumble.
Harry watched her retreating figure and sighed.
“Ron, you shouldn’t have said that.” Knowing he was in the wrong, Ron merely grumbled under his breath and said nothing more.