Hearing Cedric ask for dragon liver without the slightest hesitation, Madam Morgana cut him off with the kind of patient concern only grandmothers ever managed.
“Are you certain about this, child?
Dragon liver is far too expensive, and no first-year potion curriculum requires anything this advanced.
Why would a novice even touch it?”
She stopped mid-sentence, eyes narrowing as she looked him over properly.
“Wait.
What exactly do you intend to do with it?”
Cedric offered her his most harmless, almost handsome smile and leaned in against the counter.
“I want to taste it.
See whether I can cook it properly.”
He tapped the glass jar with one knuckle.
“By the way—what’s the liquid it’s floating in?
Poisonous?”
“Of course not.” She waved the notion away.
“Pure water with preservation charms layered over it.
Standard for potion ingredients and dilution work.
Non-toxic.
You could drink the whole jar and nothing would happen except a very expensive stomachache.”
Her brow stayed furrowed.
“But you truly mean to eat it?”
“Someone has to find new uses for good ingredients,” Cedric said, completely serious.
“We can’t keep doing everything the same way forever.”
Madam Morgana muttered something under her breath about the proper value of dragon liver belonging in a master potioneer’s hands, not a frying pan.
She was too polite to say it aloud.
“Fine.
If you’re determined to buy it yourself, I won’t stop you.”
She set a single jar on the counter.
Cedric picked it up.
Eye of Insight flared the instant his fingers closed around the glass.
[Dragon Liver]
Category: Ingredient
Source: Hungarian Horntail
Hunting Level: 70
Special Abilities: Long-Distance Dragon Breath A · Magic Resistance B (cannot be activated from ingredient) · Physical Resistance A (cannot be activated from ingredient)
Characteristics: Mellow · Premium Ingredient · Magic Resistance · Magic Boiling
Note: Consumption must exceed 15 % of the total ingredient mass in a single meal to yield enhancement points and special abilities.
Current completeness in this jar: 8 %.
Cedric’s heart gave a hard, unpleasant kick.
Hunting Level seventy.
Three high-grade abilities.
Two of the characteristics tied directly to magic.
The thing was pure concentrated power.
And one jar was nowhere near enough to make a proper dish.
He had planned to take a few careful bites and claim the abilities.
That plan was already dead.
If it wouldn’t count as a full portion, he simply needed more.
“Another jar, please.”
A thin edge of irritation had crept into his voice.
Madam Morgana tried again.
“Isn’t one jar enough to waste?
Child, this isn’t cheap.”
He knew the price.
He also knew that if the ingredient never reached his plate in usable quantity, the entire purchase would sit in his gut like unfinished business.
“Another jar.”
He repeated it through clenched teeth.
Paying hurt.
With the coin he currently carried he could not have bought a complete liver from a single dragon even if one had been offered.
He lifted the second jar, scanned it on pure reflex, and froze mid-step.
“Can I exchange this one?”
His face had gone wry.
Madam Morgana blinked.
“An exchange is fine, but is something wrong with it?”
“Nothing wrong with the liver itself.
It simply isn’t from the same dragon as the first jar.”
He set it down.
The second jar had come from an Australian Opaleye.
Completely different beast.
Long-Distance Dragon Breath became High-Temperature Dragon Breath.
The secondary characteristics diverged enough that forcing the two into the same dish would give him nothing.
“You can tell the difference?”
Madam Morgana took both jars back, turning them under the light with open disbelief.
Distinguishing dragon hide was one thing—any careful student might manage that.
Distinguishing liver by eye alone was like identifying human bloodlines from a single molar.
Cedric had no interest in inventing explanations.
He was too busy calculating.
“Could you bring out every jar of dragon liver from this batch and let me sort them?”
Another round of wide eyes, soft voice, and carefully measured helplessness finally wore her down.
“All right, all right.
Take your time.”
She flicked her wand.
Every remaining jar on the shelves rose, drifted forward, and settled in neat ranks across the counter.
“I’ll warn you now—even stock that arrives in the same shipment isn’t guaranteed to come from the same dragon.”
Cedric didn’t believe it.
From everything he had seen of wizarding supply chains, the odds of identical material ending up stacked together were high—unless someone faster and greedier than him had already cleaned out an entire carcass.
His luck held.
It took only a few minutes to isolate every jar that belonged to the same Hungarian Horntail and set the rest aside by origin.
“These three,” he said, gathering the matching jars.
He hesitated half a second, then decided.
“I’ll take all of them.”
Three jars.
Nine Galleons.
The number sounded almost reasonable until he remembered it was one-twentieth of everything he had left for the entire year.
At this rate the money would not last.
He stacked the three jars carefully, glanced at the third one he hadn’t strictly needed, and felt a small, cold smile settle into place.
Looks like he would have to start selling vegetables again just to stay solvent.
He looked down at the dragon liver in his hands and thought, quite clearly:
You idiots who decided to compete with a chef for ingredients—get ready.
Your wallets are going to scream.