Harry Potter and the Old Ones

On the second Wednesday after Christmas, Harry soon ushered in another Potions class taught by Horace Slughorn.

This made Harry more or less looking forward to it, because he might finally have the opportunity to mention again in front of Horace Slughorn that he would teach him Occlumency in a private class.

Perhaps it was after consulting with Tiera, or perhaps it was just his own whim or whim, Horace Slughorn also decided to take a quiz after Christmas—

Last Wednesday, the first class after Christmas, Horace Slughorn announced the news and said that this class would be a quiz for everyone.

The quiz appeared on everyone's desk the moment they stepped into the classroom—

There are two groups of people, and each group of people has a glass bottle filled with medicines of different colors on the test bench.

Their task today is to brew an antidote that can unlock the toxicity of the poison on the table in one class.

This unrestrained, free and unscrupulous approach to testing annoyed Harry so much that he uncapped the poison on his and Ron's bench, a cheesy pink juice drink, and poured it into a cauldron And a fire was lit below.

He had no idea what to do next. He glanced at Ron, who stood there imitating everything Harry did, looking even more clumsy.

"Are you sure the prince didn't have any hints?" Ron whispered to Harry.

Harry took out his most trustworthy old version of Advanced Potions Making, and turned to the chapter on antidote. It's the third law of Gretel, as Hermione had memorized it, and the prince didn't write a word to suggest that it was not understood differently.

"Nothing," Harry said dejectedly.

Hermione was feverishly casting a spell on her cauldron.

Unfortunately, they can't imitate her spells, because she's doing a good job of silent spells now, and she doesn't have to say them out loud.

However, a Hufflepuff girl, Elnos muttered loudly into her cauldron: "Extraordinarily boiling!"

It sounded very impressive, so Harry and Ron quickly imitated her.

Five minutes later, Harry realized that the voice of the best potion maker in his class would ring in his ears.

Slug looked hopefully out of his cauldron as he toured the basement for the first time, ready to exclaim with joy as usual, but he turned his head hastily and coughed, because there wasn't any. A trace of pride.

He hated not being able to complete the task every time in Potions class.

Hermione seemed to have a clue as she was filling ten different vials of her mysterious potion ingredients.

In order to stop watching this irritating scene, Harry took out the Half-Blood Prince's book and turned back a few pages pointlessly.

Beneath the long list of antidotes, some words were scribbled:

"Just shove the bezoar into their throats."

Harry stared at the words for a while.

Has he ever heard of something called bezoar before?

what! correct!

Harry suddenly remembered the notebook that Tiera had stuffed into him before Potions class in first year, which seemed to say something like this—

"A stone taken from a cow's stomach can detoxify most of the poison."

This wasn't an answer to Glebaut's question, which Harry wouldn't have dared to do if Snape were still their teacher, but now was the time to use a desperate approach.

He needs to be favored by Horace Slughorn—

At least in this class.

Harry looked around helplessly—

He didn't see Tiera in today's Potions class.

To be precise, he hadn't seen Tiera in any class other than the dark magic class since Christmas.

If it wasn't for the fact that Professor Tiera was still taking breakfast, lunch and dinner in the hall of Hogwarts on schedule, Harry would have even thought that Tierra had all left Hogwarts.

But now is not a world where Harry has time to think about where Tiera has gone. The time for this little test is coming up. Harry hurriedly walked to the storage cabinet, rummaged around in it, and put the unicorn's horns. Pushing aside the chaotic herbs, he knew that he found "Bezoar" scribbled on a cardboard box at the very back.

"Time's up!" Horace Slughorn said cheerfully, "Okay, classmates, let's take a look at your results! Barras... what did you do?"

Horace Slughorn slowly moved around the room, checking for various antidotes.

No one has done the job, although Hermione tries to add some more ingredients to the bottle before Slug arrives.

Ron gave up completely, he just avoided breathing in the strong rotting smell of his cauldron.

Harry stood there waiting, bezoar clenched in his hand.

Horace Slughorn finally reached their table.

He despised Elnos' potion and showed a painful expression as he passed by Ron. UU reading www.uukanshu.com

He didn't stay by Ron's crucible for even a second, and left quickly with his back to him, looking like he was disgusted.

"Then you, Harry," he said, "what are you showing me?"

Harry stretched out his hand, the bezoar in his palm.

Horace Slughorn stared at it for ten seconds.

Harry was waiting for Horace Slughorn's criticism to come, but soon—

He turned his head and laughed out loud.

"Son, good...very good...you have courage!" Horace Slughorn announced loudly, holding up the bezoar for the whole class to see. "Oh, you're just like your mother...I can't blame you...bezoar really works as an antidote for these potions!"

Hermione looked livid, with beads of sweat on her face and soot on her nose.

Halfway through the antidote, she used fifty-two materials, including some of her own hair, watching Harry intently behind Slug.

"You, exactly, thought of using bezoar, didn't you, Harry?" Hermione asked through gritted teeth.

"That's the kind of personal zest a true potion maker needs!" said Horace Slughorn happily before Harry had a chance to answer. "Like her mother, she had the same thoughts and intuitions when it came to potions, no doubt he inherited it from Lily... yes, Harry, yes, if you have a bezoar, of course that's the trick ...but they don't work for everything, and they're rare, it's still worth learning how to mix the antidote..."