This lesson covered not only basic theory and the use of equipment, but also how to brew a Cure for Boils.
Simply put, it was a potion used to treat skin conditions—
pustules, rashes, boils, and similar infections.
But the brewing process required extreme precision.
If done incorrectly—
instead of curing boils, it would cause them.
Unlike spell-based classes, Potions focused heavily on hands-on practice.
After explaining the steps and precautions, Snape paired the students up and had them begin immediately.
Cauldrons, mortars, scales, stirring rods, knives…
Aside from the lack of a Bunsen burner, it looked almost identical to a chemistry lab.
Following Snape's instructions, the students began preparing ingredients—
grinding, measuring, cutting—
as if they were about to bread and deep-fry something golden and delicious.
To brew a proper Cure for Boils:
First, grind several snake fangs into powder.
Then measure dried nettles and chop them.
Meanwhile, boil water in the cauldron and cook horned slugs.
Add cold water repeatedly—
boil three times—
then drain and crush the slugs into paste.
Refill the cauldron, heat gently—
add powdered fangs, nettles, and slug paste in sequence—
stir continuously—
remove from heat—
then add porcupine quills.
If successful—
the potion would turn blue, with pink steam rising from it.
Lewis's partner was his roommate, Stephen.
But the entire process was handled by Lewis.
Naturally.
During the summer, he had worked in a potion shop in Diagon Alley.
Handling ingredients was second nature.
Stephen watched in awe.
Only now did he realize—
Lewis wasn't just academically brilliant.
He was skilled in everything.
But Lewis himself knew—
he had serious complaints about the wizarding potion system.
In his previous life, lab work required exact measurements—
milliliters, milligrams—
timing down to the second.
Precision ensured consistent results.
Consistency enabled industrial production.
But here?
"Add a little."
"Wait a moment."
"Stir until it feels right."
It wasn't science.
It was cooking.
No standardization.
No scalability.
Everything relied on the brewer's intuition.
One mistake—
disaster.
How could magical industry ever develop like this?
Just then—
Lewis noticed Neville about to toss porcupine quills into the cauldron—
while it was still on the fire.
His reaction was instant.
"Porcupine quills—Accio!"
The quills flew into his hand.
"Add them after removing the cauldron from heat!"
If he hadn't intervened—
the potion would have exploded.
Just like in the original story.
Neville froze, then nodded rapidly.
"Th-thank you, Lewis…"
Before Lewis could respond—
a cold voice cut in.
"Our Mr. Green seems to believe that being called a 'Ravenclaw genius' entitles him to instruct others?"
Snape.
"Interfering with another student's work. Five points from Ravenclaw."
Lewis twitched.
In the original—
Snape mocked Harry for not helping Neville.
Now—
Lewis did help.
And still got mocked.
And deducted points.
Impossible to please.
Still—
this lesson wasn't without gain.
[You have successfully brewed a potion for the first time.]
[You have gained the aptitude: Potion Proficiency.]
[Potion Proficiency: Increases success rate and reduces accident probability.]
Then—
a sudden flash of insight.
[You have comprehended the essence of enhancing the body through potions.]
[You have created new potion formulas:]
Permanent Bear's Endurance Elixir
Permanent Bull's Strength Elixir
Permanent Cat's Grace Elixir
Permanent Fox's Cunning Elixir
Permanent Owl's Wisdom Elixir
Permanent Eagle's Majesty Elixir
Permanent attribute potions.
Lewis's eyes lit up.
For wizards, magic mattered most—
but physical and mental attributes couldn't be ignored.
Yet in the entire Harry Potter world—
there were no potions that permanently enhanced stats.
Strength came only through training.
Lewis had even considered starting physical exercise.
A balanced development of mind and body.
But now—
he had a shortcut.
The only issue—
ingredients.
Rare.
Expensive.
Hard to obtain.
For example:
Bull's Strength Elixir required Re'em blood—
extremely scarce.
Rarely sold.
Cat's Grace required kneazle claw powder.
Fox's Cunning needed nine-tailed fox fur.
Eagle's Majesty required griffin beak powder.
Bear's Endurance needed bear paw essence.
All rare materials.
All costly.
The worst—
Owl's Wisdom Elixir.
Its main ingredient—
owlbeast feathers.
Which didn't even exist in this world.
The auxiliary materials were easier—
Horklump juice, moonstones, troll tongues, unicorn hair—
many could be found in the Forbidden Forest.
Lewis sighed.
"Damn it… I just swore not to go there."
Plans never survived reality.
What could he do?
If it meant getting stronger—
breaking a promise to himself didn't matter.
After all—
no one else heard it.
Creating the formulas didn't mean immediate power.
But—
it was a beginning.
And it strengthened his resolve.
He needed money.
A lot of it.