Warren's core theory was that potions are essentially spells. He had written a paper on the subject at the age of ten, publishing it in the Potioneers' Association journal, Elixir Extraordinary. It was also the source of the ongoing controversy surrounding him.
Potion-making was a relatively insular discipline. To many potioneers, the mysterious and omnipotent nature of magic was solely represented by the fragrant steam rising from a cauldron. With a few vials of brew, they could accomplish all sorts of feats without having to "stupidly wave a wand" and unleash a barrage of "flashy spells." Moreover, many illnesses and spell damage could only be remedied with potions. This fostered a sense of arrogant superiority over other magical disciplines.
Warren's theory, therefore, trod on sacred ground. Naturally, there were those who agreed with him. However, many did not want things to change. Some were old traditionalists clinging to their past glories. Some had a vested interest in keeping potions mysterious and monopolized. And some were simply idiots. That last assessment had come from Professor Snape himself, in a newspaper article.
The core of Warren's paper was simple. Let your own magic play a greater role in the brewing process, just like casting a spell.
For example, right now. As he sprinkled powdered snake fangs into the cauldron, Warren drew his wand and lightly touched it to the potion's surface. A fine thread of magic seeped into the liquid. Hermione stared, wide-eyed. Because magic was invisible to the naked eye, all she saw was the powder drifting into the mixture.
"The snake fangs are the primary ingredient. Their purpose here is to absorb toxins. Just bear in mind, they do not naturally possess that ability. We are simply harnessing their inherent properties."
As Warren murmured these words, tiny specks of light separated from the powdered fangs. The powder itself sank to the bottom of the cauldron.
"Now that the toxin absorption is handled, the next step is the cure. For a simple ailment like boils, we use stewed horned slugs and dried nettles. The slugs aid in healing, and the nettles neutralize the absorbed toxins."
His wand continued tapping the cauldron gently. As he added each ingredient, faint glowing currents appeared in the potion, tinged with a soft pink.
Hermione clutched her book, her mouth slightly open, completely absorbed.
"What are those?" she whispered.
"Those are the properties of the ingredients, Hermione." Warren nodded. "I am using magic to extract them so you can see them. In the traditional recipe for a Cure for Boils, the final step of adding porcupine quills is done only to extract these properties. The quills themselves play no part in the healing. My magic bypasses that step."
He turned off the heat under the cauldron and stirred it clockwise five times. "Five times. Not one more, not one less. This is the other key point I mentioned. It is a ritual. Numbers hold power within it. Watch."
Hermione leaned in. The potion, layered and murky, began to swirl. With five stirs and a wave of Warren's wand, it spun rapidly before suddenly transforming into clear, sparkling blue liquid. Not a trace of impurity remained. It looked even better than the picture in the textbook.
Before she could voice her amazement, Snape glided over like a bat. He peered into the cauldron. His eyes flickered with surprise. He dipped a finger in and sniffed the liquid. He looked at Warren. "I detect no pungent stench of porcupine quills. You improved it?"
"Yes, Professor."
"Using the magical extraction method you wrote about last year?"
Warren smiled. "It does. However, for now, it only works on simple potions like this. The more advanced the potion, the more properties you need to extract from the ingredients. It takes a great deal of time to understand, explore, and find the right techniques."
"But I believe it is worthwhile. Traditional recipes often require an extra ingredient, or even several, just to finalize the extraction. These additives inevitably affect the potion's effectiveness. Some are even toxic. Even if the toxicity and side effects are manageable for a successful brew, surely it is better without them, is it not?"
Snape fell silent. He didn't say another word. As he turned away, everyone heard him say, "Ten points to Slytherin. Weasley, Granger, go help Longbottom and Finnigan. I suspect they are trolls in disguise. Ronald Weasley, what are you staring at? Why don't you learn from your brother?"
Harry heard Ron mutter, "I don't want to learn from him."
Harry said nothing. After a moment, he whispered, "Next Potions class, I want to be partners with Warren."
Ron's eyes widened. "Traitor."
Meanwhile, Warren and Hermione followed Snape's instructions and approached Neville and Seamus's desk. Neville was in tears. Snape had berated him throughout the class, costing Gryffindor five points.
He blamed himself entirely. "I'm sorry, Warren. I'm too stupid. I never remember anything."
"It's okay, Neville. Just follow the textbook. Don't panic."
Neville had trusted Warren ever since he helped him find Trevor, even though Warren was a Slytherin. The kind-hearted, pudgy boy might have a poor memory and be prone to tears, but he was obedient and followed instructions. When he trusted someone, he did exactly what they said.
Seamus, on the other hand, was more mischievous. Or maybe he had some kind of hidden talent for disaster. Even with Hermione watching him like a hawk, he almost caused an accident when it came time to add the porcupine quills at the end. He didn't turn off the heat. He just tossed a handful of quills toward the cauldron.
Fortunately, Warren was watching. He quickly cast a Levitation Charm, intercepting the quills mid-air. Otherwise, the classroom would have faced a major catastrophe. Adding porcupine quills to a boiling potion turns it into a highly corrosive liquid and causes an explosion.
This only confirmed Snape's poor opinion of Gryffindor. He took the opportunity to deduct more points.
As they left the dungeon after class and headed back to Gryffindor Tower, Seamus tried to explain himself to Hermione. "I was just so nervous. Snape kept hovering over me. The pressure was too much."
Hermione wore a severe expression, her voice sharp and piercing. "Then why weren't you paying attention? The professor didn't say to leave the heat on."
Embarrassed and annoyed, Seamus refused to speak another word to her.
Watching them, Ron remarked to Harry, "She's too intense. She always makes everyone feel stupid."
As Hermione approached, Harry quickly changed the subject.
"It's the weekend tomorrow. Do you want to go see Hagrid?"
Hagrid had sent a letter inviting him to his hut.
Ron missed the hint entirely. "All right, but we'd best leave her behind. I don't want someone nagging me all day about everything I do wrong."
Hermione pursed her lips, looking so much like Professor McGonagall that it startled Harry. She turned sharply, stormed past them, and even barged into Ron, nearly knocking him over.
Watching her retreating figure, Harry sighed.
"Ron, you shouldn't have said that."
Ron knew he was in the wrong. He just grunted.
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