Chapter 22: Pineapple Candy

When handling snails with antennae, pay attention to the distribution of their slime.

Try to select the time when they secrete the most slime.

If you see them extend their antennae and touch the table,

Do not hesitate—that is the ideal moment to begin boiling…

A small reminder: when you see tiny bubbles rising in the cauldron, stop boiling…

Excellent! Mr. Dickinson, your handling was perfect.

Oh! Mr. Green, perhaps you boiled for a bit too long,

Remember? Stop as soon as the cauldron starts to bubble slightly…

Inside the greenhouse.

Twelve cauldrons steamed with bubbling liquid, their vapor swirling and making the pumpkin-shaped plants sway gently.

Professor Sprout had just praised Senior Bruce when she hurried over to Wizard Sean’s side to help him return the escaped snail to the table.

She smiled warmly and said:

“Mr. Green, don’t let the snails run away next time.”

Wizard Sean was indeed flustered—he was managing two cauldrons at once.

Meanwhile, Senior Bruce handled his work with ease.

As for Professor Sprout, she could boil seven cauldrons simultaneously and still have ample time to Making Guide Wizard Sean.

“Observe the slime, wait for the bubbles to appear…”

Wizard Sean murmured the professor’s instructions as he worked carefully.

As time passed, Wizard Sean’s boiling grew more skilled, though he still occasionally fumbled.

The liquid in the cauldron gradually turned ink-green, and Professor Sprout stepped forward.

Wizard Sean gripped his spoon tightly, waiting for her evaluation.

He felt uneasy—partly due to his poor aptitude, partly because he hated wasting materials.

Snails with antennae were expensive: one jar cost one Jin Jin Jialong in Diagon Alley.

The prices of magical ingredients were always terrifyingly high,

which made Wizard Sean realize one thing: potions must be wildly profitable, or else no one could afford the materials.

Soon, Professor Sprout gave her evaluation:

“Mr. Green, acceptable handling.”

Wizard Sean let out a small sigh of relief; though Professor Sprout allowed them to use materials freely, he couldn’t keep wasting them.

Once he got into rhythm, Wizard Sean quickly finished processing the snails with antennae.

The three of them poured the boiled liquid into glass bottles and selected snails with sufficient slime, placing them in a large jar.

Professor Sprout said,

this selection would help young wizards increase their chances of successfully brewing the acne potion.

The boiled snails would serve as demonstration examples

and assist Professor Snape with some preliminary tasks.

While selecting porcupine quills,

Professor Sprout revealed a piece of news that surprised Wizard Sean.

“Yes, children, herbs and potions always depend on each other;

every harvest season, Severus always comes to the greenhouse.”

Wizard Sean imagined Professor Snape holding a hoe, then went back to selecting porcupine quills.

“Porcupine quills should be about three inches long, and as thick as two snail antennae…”

As he left the greenhouse, Wizard Sean reviewed the key steps and recorded them all on the parchment he carried.

So far, the four ingredients of the acne potion—

dried nettle, porcupine quills, poisonous snake fangs, and snails with antennae—Wizard Sean now understood deeply,

which meant his first step was complete.

Thinking of this, Wizard Sean’s eyes grew brighter.

“Say, Wizard Sean, we’ve already left the greenhouse—no need to write it all down again.”

Senior Bruce crossed his arms and gently pulled Wizard Sean away,

preventing his overly focused friend from bumping into a standing armor stand.

On the armor stand,

a lady in a ceremonial gown covered her mouth with a laugh, making the knight across from her stare in awe.

The clock struck six.

A gentle breeze blew, neither hurried nor lazy.

The sun slanted across the path.

Wizard Sean heard the bells of Hogwarts ring.

Senior Bruce stopped walking.

In the corridor beside the greenhouse,

Leon held a book, his golden hair glowing in the warm sunlight; Piste cradled a potted plant, its tender leaves swaying in the wind.

Both turned their gazes toward Bruce.

Senior Bruce grinned:

“These two…”

He turned to bid Wizard Sean farewell,

but before he could speak, a piece of pineapple candy was placed in his hand.

“Snack exchange—Hufflepuff tradition, Senior Bruce.”

He froze, and Wizard Sean had already walked off briskly.

“He really isn’t a Hufflepuff?”

Leon closed his book.

“Probably the Sorting Hat made a mistake.”

Bruce carefully tucked the candy away,

then suddenly cried, “Hey!” and grabbed Leon and Piste by the shoulders.

His strong arms encircled their necks like a warm lock, pulling all three heads tightly together.

“Flaw!”

He laughed loudly.

“Idiot.”

Leon stumbled.

Piste carefully protected his potted plant.

…

Since yesterday, after borrowing enough books from the library, Wizard Sean’s only problem was not having enough time to finish his homework.

The Hogwarts library closed at eight sharp,

and Wizard Sean had finished dinner by six-thirty.

So instead of going to the library, he returned directly to Ravenclaw Tower.

The Ravenclaw double dormitory had desks, and even provided floating candles—

yes, the same kind as those in the Great Hall.

Clearly an excellent place to do homework.

Ravenclaw’s wisdom,

Wizard Sean thought.

“Wizard Sean, are you going back to the tower?”

At the entrance to the Great Hall, Wizard Sean met Michael playing fifteen-peg chess.

“Mm.”

Wizard Sean nodded.

“Oh! Wait for me!”

Michael quickly moved his piece; his fifteen-peg club swung down and knocked the last opposing piece flying.

“Narrow win.”

Michael smiled as he gathered his pieces, then ran toward Wizard Sean.

The staircase back to Ravenclaw was still terrifyingly long.

Michael panted as he climbed, complaining all the way:

“The welcome speech said Ravenclaw helps seekers of knowledge climb the stairs of wisdom,

but it didn’t say these stairs were this long!”

Michael looked up—the staircase stretched endlessly ahead.

“Merlin… I have to climb this for seven years?”

Before he finished speaking, a strong wind swept through,

It was a senior from Ravenclaw, riding a broomstick as he entered the tower.

And he drew gasps from the younger Ravenclaws around him.

“Cool!”

Michael stared fixedly at the elegant wizard, his own heart warming.

The steps gradually diminished; Wizard Sean and Michael were finally reaching the top.

“...Many may think the Chudley Cannons’ glorious era has ended, but everyone knows it will reclaim its former glory...”

At this moment, Michael’s complaints had turned into longing for Quidditch,

and he was about to continue recounting the Chudley Cannons’ glorious history,

when he suddenly noticed the swaying little wizard beside him.

“Wizard Sean!”