MeowthTL
patreon
HP: I have a Proficiency Panel - 106
🕑 Added 2025-11-19 17:38:30 +0000 UTCChapter 106: Childhood
In the dungeons, cold wind scraped past and rattled the glass with loud clangs. Shawn exhaled a puff of white mist.
He picked up his notebook, a little surprised. While he had been focused on brewing, Professor Snape had impatiently scrawled annotations all over it.
Though the comments were things like "Idiotic handling," "Moronic choice," and "Only Merlin's blessing saved you at this time interval," what they revealed was a Potions Master's profound understanding.
Ever since Libatius Borage's notes had appeared, Shawn had glumly discovered a fact: Advanced Potion‑Making did not include the three potions he had learned.
To put it bluntly, Libatius Borage had given Shawn a key to a golden chest, but all Shawn had in his hands was a battered wooden box.
They did not match.
So Professor Snape's annotations had come at exactly the right time.
With the improved ritual, the Guidance Method, and Snape's meticulous notes, Shawn had brewed an Expert‑level Swelling Solution in one go.
[You brewed a Deflating Draught at Expert standard, Proficiency +50]
[A new Potions title has been unlocked. Please check.]
Shawn felt a flicker of excitement. When the cold wind blew past, he shivered reflexively. The Swelling Solution splashed directly onto the dried nettles on the table.
The Deflating Draught that Snape had made him learn early came in very handy. Shawn sprinkled it over the swelling, and it subsided.
"Hmph."
Watching him handle it without panic, Professor Snape gave a cold snort.
After cleaning up, Shawn quietly opened his panel.
[Title: Potions Novice]
[Greatly increases sensitivity to potions. Slightly enhances Potions talent.]
As expected, it was a large increase.
Shawn read on, anticipation building.
[Wizard Shawn, Potions Talent: Green (Potions Novice title applied; original talent was White). Note: Most wizards are Green.]
So the next title upgrade would improve his talent.
Shawn thought quietly.
Over nearly two months, apart from Herbology, which had only reached Entry threshold, Shawn had ground out progress in every field.
Compared to his earlier one Purple and three White talents, it was a complete transformation.
After a quick glance at the panel, Shawn picked up his notebook and jotted down the ideas still lingering in his mind.
The Guidance Method was not complete. It currently only applies to Swelling Solution and Deflating Draught, and even with the Deflating Draught, there is still much room for improvement.
Compared to Libatius Borage's original method, the Guidance Method added another layer: constructing a scenario ritual. Like the initial improved ritual, it permeated the entire brewing process. Countless small preparations and cues together brought about the final transformation.
As Shawn's research deepened, he needed more and more detail. That made him understand that refining potion rituals was destined to be a long process.
No wonder Libatius Borage had only perfected a few potions in his lifetime.
Shawn knew his time was limited. He had to choose his potions carefully.
Some potions, like Swelling Solution, he would not bother perfecting the ritual for.
In the corner of the dungeon,
After reminding Shawn to check his notes, Professor Snape's fury had subsided.
He noticed instead the faint draught and the fool's slight, poorly concealed shivering.
He fell silent, watching with cold eyes as Shawn tidied the table and prepared to leave.
"Stop, Shawn Green."
His voice sounded as if it had been squeezed from his throat.
Shawn stopped in his tracks.
The parchment clutched in Snape's hand was slapped – no, placed – on the table.
Snape had started to slam it down, then set it gently instead. He seemed to grow angry and bellowed, "If you ever believe such nonsense again and develop incorrect ideas about the noble art of Potions, I guarantee, Shawn Green, I will let you take your things and get out of this dungeon!"
At least Professor Snape was willing to let him take his things, Shawn thought absurdly.
He quietly picked up the parchment. The back was covered in annotations that made his eyes go wide.
As he studied them carefully, Snape's sharp gaze caught sight of the obviously thin, ill‑fitting collar of the boy's jumper.
He froze slightly.
In those mocking voices, in the faint trembling of the young wizard's frame, in that pilled, old, threadbare jumper –
Memory rippled like the surface of a lake, reflecting a dark‑haired figure from decades past entering Hogwarts.
He had walked beneath web‑draped eaves in a hand‑me‑down maternity dress from his mother, the fabric soaked with years of grime, reeking of a pure‑blood family's rotten collapse.
"Snivellus," they had called him. Those greasy strands were not so much neglected as they were silent testimony to filthy sinks and cracked tile walls.
His Hogwarts robes had been the first truly clean garment of his life. When the silver‑embroidered House crest pressed against his heartbeat, an unfamiliar shudder had crawled up his spine.
"Get out," he heard himself rasp.
Shawn did not notice. He simply took the parchment, bowed slightly, and left the dungeon with a light step.
Snape remained, watching silently.
In the corridor,
Sir Cadogan appeared again at the far end, alone this time, wearing battered armour – obviously from yet another duel – trying to pull a sword from the ground.
How he had stuck it in there was anyone's guess. All that was clear was that the blade was buried deep in the turf. He pulled and pulled with all his might but could not wrench it free.
Finally, he collapsed onto the grass, pushed up his visor, and wiped his sweat‑streaked face.
"One must have a stout heart. The hardest trials lie ahead!" Sir Cadogan shouted.
Shawn watched the knight panting and sweating. He quietly moved a painting with a round stool and a campfire beside him.
The knight's eyes lit up. He gave a shout of approval.
"Clearly another expedition, dear Green. We must find our target and die bravely in the charge!"
He never seemed able to mount his horse or even draw his sword properly, but he always roared with energy.
Shawn nodded quietly. He knew the knight truly could do such things.
"Oh, though perhaps not…" the knight added as Shawn turned to leave.
"Young Green, remember this: to sing in suffering and hardship is no easy thing. But silence in suffering and hardship weighs no less. You will understand – not all life roars aloud.
"Some courage, you see, speaks not a word."
The gale shrieked around the castle. In the corridor and the dungeon alike, two pairs of usually calm eyes remained still.
