20 Harry Potter : Chapter 20: Routine I

I started my second year at Hogwarts less than a week before when Slughorn approached me. It was on a Saturday, and I was still readjusting to having a regular rhythm of sorts, now that I was no longer living on my own in the results of... better not thinking about it.

Even if my magical escapade had yielded an objectively great result, it would be some time still before I could truly relax in the soft pillow of my hypocrisy.

Pragmatically speaking, I didn't die with my first experimental ritual, which was a good point, another was the impossibly good concealing ward grown with the modified ash tree that towered in what was now my property.

On the other hand, I had ruthlessly exploited both the naivete of a helpless, dying wizard, and engineered his death so that it would benefit me. Sure, he was already dying, but...

I shook my head, focusing on following my Head of House as he led me to his office.

"You did all of your summer assignments, even if for some reason you don't seem able to reach the required length in your essays..." he started reprimanding me about the quality of my homework.

I didn't bother defending myself, half-assing my written work freed me a lot of time that I could dedicate to stuff that actually managed to challenge me.

I focused during classes, but that was mostly because I wanted to master each spell without the need to further practice it on my own. Again, it was only so that I could not waste time and energy that I could dedicate to my own exploring of the possibilities of the world of magic.

"My marks are good enough," I shrugged uncaringly, "and if I spent any more time on my assignments, I would never have discovered how to brew sunlight during the last year."

"Why do you think I haven't taken points or assigned detentions?" Slughorn joyfully pointed out as we turned yet another one of the endless corners that made up the bowels of the castle.

"Merlin knows that as long as your grades are on this level, few professors will... how does the youth say it these days?... Oh yes, nag your ears off."

The portly wizard stopped briefly to nod in self-satisfaction before looking at me from above his shoulder as we started to walk down a stretch of staircase.

"It is rather obvious that you could do much more if you actually bothered to try with your assignments, but the faculty tends to focus on those that risk to not pass their year, so you're in the clear for now.

Your practical work is top-notch, even if your approach isn't always the one we instructed you to follow."

"Sir?" I asked, not understanding why he had breached the topic only to not share his opinion about it.

"The point is, Mr. Hagrid..." he sighed, "The faculty agrees that you're talented, extremely so, and it's bad enough that you are aware of it, but consider this your warning.

Coasting around your magical education will serve you ill on the long term. Flaunting your disinterest for both House Points and your marks isn't going to win you many friends among the professors."

He eyed me shrewdly then: "On a personal note, and I will deny if I'm asked, I'd say that it would be a pity to see your unique approach to magic being cut down by the... curriculum-orthodoxies... that roam the castle."

"Consider me warned..."

"...but you'll keep doing as you are." Slughorn completed my sentence for me with a satisfied nod, "You're ambitious enough for ten Slytherins, keep it up, but stop flaunting it."

Finally, we reached our destination, and an imposing oaken door let us through as we approached.

The room in which he led me was suitably large, even for a Head of House' Office, meaning that it spanned easily 20 meters in one direction and another fifteen in the other, while it was graced by the natural sunlight that shone through the wall-spanning windows.

Everywhere I could look spoke of a rather cushy salary: imposing armchairs, no less than three fireplaces, even what appeared to be a golden brazier of all things, fur carpets, animated tapestries, and an assortment of knick-knacks that elegantly spanned across the furniture.

"Oh, here is where I hold my... I'm sure you've heard about it, don't make that false surprise face, Mr. Hagrid, I perfected it long before you were born you know?" he smiled shrewdly as I walked behind him.

"Anyway, here is where I hold my Slug-club, and I make no secret that I'd have invited you in already, sadly, the Headmaster recommended to wait for the students to be in their third years before I... ahem."

When he faux-coughed instead of quoting the likely less-than-respectable term that Dippet used to refer to his power-hungry-master-manipulator-fat-web-spinner- habits, I scoffed.

"I'd imagine that waiting for the students to see Hogsmeade would give them the occasion to start seeing and thinking about the wider world..."

Slughorn seemed unusually exuberant, even for his standards, when he showed me the last project he had started on.

He led me across the veritable hall that he somewhat peddled as an 'office' into a smaller room, this one was instead a potion laboratory of respectable dimensions, one with stacked ingredients on numerous shelves that stretched up to the 6 meters tall ceiling, a single slanted window, and the most curious terrarium over a mahogany desk.

It looks like he made liberal use of enlarging charms to turn the office in his Slug-club's Hall and the closet into this. I thought withholding a bout of laughter.

"It appears similar to an extremely large butterfly but with a wolf-like skull in place of an ordinary head." the portly man talked excitedly as he pointed at the terrarium in which I spied a lime-like, spiked carapace.

"When it is not flying with its spiked wings, the Swooping Evil shrinks into a green spiny cocoon. It can be quite dangerous, you see, as it is an encephalophage, it feeds on people's brains, and its tough green skin has the ability to deflect at least some spells. It secretes venom that erases memories."

The terrarium itself was a rather large glass sphere, in which seemed like a wizard had captured a stretch of jungle: there, he showed me the strange critter, which was resting inside of his green, spiny cocoon. That's a cool terrarium.

"The same creature used in New York?" I asked, referring mentally to the events I had researched in one of my first attempts to determine whether the events of Fantastical Beasts and Where to Find them depicted something that actually happened.

Surprisingly, the highly insular and heavily opinionated Daily Prophet had mentioned the last greatest Almost-Break of the Statute of Secrecy, even if I had to look for the event in past copies. Thank Merlin the Library keeps an archive of the Prophet's editions.

"The very same!" Slughorn laughed delightedly, "It is a very niche piece of information, I had no idea you were so well read on the happenings on the other side of the ocean."

But my thoughts went suddenly in a very specific direction even as I answered. Can I use it to erase Tom's memories? To give him a blank state? "The venom was diluted through the rain and saved the Statute of Secrecy, it was the highlight of the last few years."

"It was indeed! Speaking of highlight, it is extraordinary that when its venom is diluted enough, it targets only bad memories, if it is because the creature's nature as a brain-eater makes him immediately target those memories, making some suspect that the Aztecs..."

"I'm guessing that there is now another recipe for a forgetfulness potion under your name professor?" I interrupted with an apologetic, if eager, smile. I wanted to hear something actually interesting, the possible ascendancy of the green brain-eater did not fall under that category.

Besides, I preferred doing my own research about any interesting magical creature that I came across. And while I was interested somewhat in insect-like ones, it was only because of the Acromantula egg that I had resting on my desk at home that I had dedicated any time at all at Creatures as a subject.

Even if selective crossbreeding could allow me precise ingredients for my brews. I realized it far too late to ask Slughorn for a complete explanation of the magical creature.

"I see that while your brain is active and running, your tongue still gets ahead of it." Slughorn reprimanded me with a piercing look that made me do my best to look bashful.

"Well, no matter, it took me a whole year to get my hands on this exemplar, it cost a pretty Galleon, let me tell you, and I spent most of my free time in the last year researching this little critter."

"Hence the improved forgetfulness potion." I guessed. I really need a way to remain abreast of the most recent magical research that isn't Transfiguration Today.

The exalted Potions Professor smiled and slid towards me an open book, pointing excitedly on the index, where 'Daunt-Dimming Draught' was listed as a creation of one Horace Slughorn.

Fascinated by such a mild application of magic, which I guessed required precision in the dosage of each component that was going to be mind-blowing, I quickly turned to the page that listed the recently invented potion.

"Very delicate." I immediately commented as I skimmed the recipe. 

Two month-long process, necessity to simmer under the moon, usage of a crystal lens to enhance the light of Polar Star, which I'm guessing is used as a guiding tool for the potion... Fucking hell, this bastard applied my method to brew sunlight to the stars! I now know why he was telling me to keep doing whatever I wanted.

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