Sullivan couldn't help but chuckle at the nun's reaction. He waved it off casually. "Just kidding. So… how exactly do we do this?"
The nun's face quickly returned to normal. She led the three of them forward to the altar where the Hopping Pot was enshrined. It wasn't overly grand—just a marble platform flanked by two ornate carved columns.
And there it stood. Literally stood. The Hopping Pot was a massive yellow cauldron about ten feet tall and five feet wide. The strangest part? Instead of a base, it had one thick, powerful leg—roughly four feet long—made of the same brass-like metal. The leg looked muscular and lifelike. Sullivan couldn't help wondering what it would look like when it actually hopped.
The nun handed each of them a fresh flower. "Just place the flowers here and pray sincerely. The Hopping Pot will respond to your wishes."
The three of them placed the flowers in front of the altar and clasped their hands like the nun had shown them.
The very next second, Coal Ball poked her head out from Sullivan's robe and let out an angry growl. At the same time, Sullivan's anti-Legilimency necklace began to heat up. He opened his eyes and stared at the Hopping Pot—this thing was actually trying to read their minds.
Snape, a master of both Occlumency and Legilimency, felt it too. His hand flicked and his wand appeared, ready for a fight.
"You… you're wizards!" the nun cried out in terror when she saw Snape's wand. She stumbled backward, about to say something else when the Hopping Pot itself suddenly spoke in a deep, resonant voice:
"Relax, outsiders. I mean you no harm. I simply wanted to know your wishes so I could grant them. Since you don't want me reading your minds directly, you may speak them aloud."
The voice was rich and calming, like that of a wise elder, but both Sullivan and Snape immediately sensed a layer of subtle charm magic woven into it.
They exchanged a quick glance, silently communicating. Just as they were about to speak, Teemo beat them to it.
"I… I want my master to come back to life…"
The Hopping Pot had clearly read Teemo's mind earlier. It replied gently, "I'm sorry, but I do not have the power to raise the dead. However, here is a potion that will let you temporarily return to your happiest moment."
With a soft pop, a colorful vial shot out from the Pot and landed neatly in Teemo's hands.
Teemo stared at the potion, his expression torn between excitement and confusion. He looked like he was about to open it and drink it on the spot.
"Teemo, hold on," Sullivan said quickly, his voice carrying a trace of magical force—not a spell, more like the disruptive pulse from his orb. "Wait until we've all made our wishes."
Teemo snapped out of the strange trance, looked at Sullivan, then back at the potion with clear reluctance. He gave the Hopping Pot a wary glance and tucked the vial away.
"What are your wishes?" the Pot asked, ignoring Teemo's hesitation.
Snape spoke first. "I want all of your potion recipes."
The hall fell silent. The Hopping Pot paused for nearly ten seconds before answering, "I'm afraid I don't have any potion recipes. However, you may take one of the potions I create and study it yourself."
A dark blue vial flew out and landed in Snape's hand. He uncorked it, gave it a quick sniff, and put it away.
Finally, it was Sullivan's turn.
"I want to leave this place."
This request seemed to be exactly what the Pot expected. It answered immediately, "As you wish!"
Another soft pop, and a silver-white vial shot out. This one had colorful lights swirling inside—it looked extremely mysterious.
"Now go. Drink the potions and your wishes may be fulfilled. If you have any other desires, please return tomorrow."
With that, the Hopping Pot fell silent once more.
The nun stepped forward. "You may leave now."
---
Once they were outside the temple, Sullivan handed his potion to Snape. "What do you think is wrong with this so-called Hopping Pot?"
Snape took the vial and sniffed it. "I'm not sure, but the potion itself seems fine. Mine is a memory-type potion—likely enhances thinking and memory, improving learning efficiency."
He looked at Sullivan's. "Yours appears to be a spatial perception potion. If you drink it, your Apparition should improve dramatically, letting you leave this place."
"Mr. Su, what about mine?" Teemo asked, holding up his own vial.
Snape sniffed it. "It's an illusion-type potion. If you drink it, you'll most likely fall into a memory."
Sullivan thought for a moment. "If the potions the Hopping Pot gives out are real, that means it has to provide something that matches the wisher's request."
"So what's the price?" Snape asked.
"Probably the wisher's faith or belief," Sullivan suggested.
"But we didn't offer any faith, and we still got the potions," Snape pointed out. "Following that logic, the real price might come when we actually drink them."
"This place has way too many red flags," Sullivan said. "We should observe more before doing anything drastic. Let's find that inn first."
"Mr. Su… can I drink my potion?" Teemo asked hopefully, his eyes full of longing. Even if it was just a memory, he desperately wanted to experience it again.
Sullivan crouched down and patted Teemo's shoulder gently. "Teemo, I respect whatever decision you make. But right now we're in a space where reality and illusion are mixed together. We have no way of knowing if this potion is truly safe or if it has side effects. I suggest we keep it for now and only drink it once we're safely out and have confirmed it's harmless."
"Okay, Mr. Su! Teemo trusts your judgment!" Teemo finally agreed and put the potion away.
The three of them continued down the street until they reached the inn they'd been told about earlier. It was called the Green Apple Inn. A chubby, bearded man with a gloomy expression sat at the entrance.
"Sir, we'd like three rooms for the night," Sullivan called out.
The man looked up. "Three pence per room, breakfast included. Lunch is an extra penny if you want it here."
Sullivan pulled out a gold Galleon and handed it over. "Will this cover it?"
The innkeeper took the coin—and his face changed instantly. Terror filled his eyes. "You—you're wizards! You need to leave right now! We don't welcome wizards here!"