Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures

“Settle down, settle down, please!” Slughorn walked up to his desk. “Before we knew it, the happy Christmas holiday has passed. I hope you haven’t had too much fun and forgotten your studies because this term, we’ve got lots of work to get through. Now, Golpalott’s Third Law … who can tell me — ? But Miss Granger can, of course!”

Hermione stood up and recited at top speed: “Golpalott’s-Third-Law-states-that-the-antidote-for-a-blended-poison-will-be-equal-to-more-than-the-sum-of-the-antidotes-for-each-of-the-separate-components.”

“Precisely!” beamed Slughorn. “Ten points for Gryffindor! Now, if we accept Golpalott’s Third Law as true …”

“Blimey, what is he even talking about?” Ron muttered in despair.

He did not get a response, because nobody apart from Evan and Hermione seemed to be following what Slughorn said next either. Everyone could only pretend to accept Golpalott’s Third Law as fact and scribble down whatever Slughorn said next.

“… which means, of course, that assuming we have achieved correct identification of the potion’s ingredients by Scarpin’s Revelaspell, our primary aim is not the relatively simple one of selecting antidotes to those ingredients in and of themselves,” said Slughorn, “but to find that added component that will, by an almost alchemical process, transform these disparate elements —”

Alchemy was a new subject introduced in the sixth year, and it was deeply connected to Advanced Potion-Making.

Now, some alchemy-related knowledge was often brought up in Slughorn’s lessons.

Evan, Hermione, Harry, and Ron hadn’t opted to take Alchemy, but Hermione had been studying it every night with Evan and had already mastered a lot of basic knowledge, so she had no trouble keeping up.

Harry and Ron were completely stunned. They had no idea what Slughorn was saying.

Ron stared at the ceiling of the dungeon classroom, his mouth half open, doodling absently on his new copy of Advanced Potion-Making. Harry’s potion-making skills came entirely from Snape’s annotations in his copy of the textbook, but Snape certainly hadn’t explained Golpalott’s Third Law, Scarpin’s Revelaspell, or alchemical decomposition — those were all widely accepted potion theories. So now, he could do nothing but stare blankly ahead, preoccupied with how to get Slughorn to hand over the memory.

Evan, on the other hand, was listening intently, taking notes from time to time.

Most of his knowledge had come from self-study, and there were many things he did not fully understand. Now, after listening to Slughorn’s detailed explanation, he felt that he had understood a lot more.

“Well, now it’s time to test what you’ve learned,” finished Slughorn, “and so, I want each of you to come and take one of these phials from my desk. You are to create an antidote for the poison within it before the end of the lesson. Good luck, and don’t forget your protective gloves!”

Hermione immediately left her stool and walked towards Slughorn’s desk, collecting phials for Evan, Harry, and Ron before bringing them back.

“Golpalott’s Third Law. It’s a shame that the Prince won’t be able to help you much with this, Harry. You have to understand the principles involved this time. No shortcuts or cheats!” she said brightly as she straightened up. “Evan and I will be in one group. Harry, Ron, you two will be in another. Let’s see who can brew the antidote first.”

She grabbed Evan and pulled him over to a nearby table, leaving behind an annoyed Harry and a clueless Ron. Hermione had been determined to prove herself against Advanced Potion-Making for a while now — she refused to accept defeat, even though she had no idea who the Half-Blood Prince actually was.

Evan tipped the garish shade of pink poison into his cauldron, lit a fire underneath it and stirred it carefully with his wand.

To him, this kind of competition was completely meaningless.

The chances of Harry and Ron successfully brewing an antidote were practically nonexistent. The antidote for a blended poison wasn’t like a standard potion recipe. It required identifying all the individual ingredients. Snape’s notes wouldn’t be much help since he couldn’t have known what the poison contained, nor could he have questioned Golpalott’s Third Law.

Noticing Harry and Ron staring at him hopefully, Evan considered giving them a bit of help. But before he could, Hermione leaned in close and whispered, “Use a nonverbal spell, Evan. No speaking the incantation.”

She knew Evan, Harry and Ron too well and could predict what they would do.

Hermione was absolutely determined to beat Harry in Potions today, and she wasn’t about to let anyone cheat under her watch.

“Sorry!” Evan muttered to Harry before focusing on his own potion.

He estimated that Slughorn’s poison contained anywhere from fifty to sixty different ingredients. Identifying all of them in such a short time was no easy task, even for him.

At the next table, Harry had no idea where to start. He could already imagine what Hermione would say once he failed …

“You sure the Prince hasn’t got any tips?” Ron asked in a low voice.

“I’m looking!” said Harry.

He pulled out his trusty copy of Advanced Potion-Making and turned to the chapter on antidotes. There was Golpalott’s Third Law, stated word for word as Hermione had recited it, but not a single illuminating note in the Prince’s hand to explain what it meant. Apparently the Prince, like Hermione, had had no difficulty understanding it. ꞦаΝ𝐨฿Ë𝐒

“Nothing,” said Harry gloomily.

Both Evan and Hermione were casting nonverbal spells, especially Hermione, who was waving her wand enthusiastically over her cauldron.

She was very excited to have the chance to defeat the Half-Blood Prince in Potions.

On the other side, Ernie Macmillan was muttering, “Specialis Revelio!” over his cauldron,which sounded impressive, so Harry and Ron hastened to imitate him.

No, it didn’t work.

It took Harry only five minutes to realize that his reputation as the best potion-maker in the class was crashing around his ears.

Slughorn had peered hopefully into his cauldron on his first circuit of the dungeon, preparing to exclaim in delight as he usually did, and instead had withdrawn his head hastily, coughing, as the smell of bad eggs overwhelmed him, and hurriedly turned to look at Evan and Hermione’s cauldrons.

Hermione’s expression could not have been any smugger; she had loathed being outperformed in every Potions class.

She was now decanting the mysteriously separated ingredients of her poison into ten different crystal phials.

“You are not helping him, Evan,” she said firmly as she worked. “I think Harry needs a lesson. He has to stop relying on that ridiculous Prince.” She glanced at Evan. “This is good for him, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely,” Evan replied. Since his girlfriend said so, what else could he say?

Of course there was only one reasonable course of action — stay out of it.

Besides, Harry was bound to learn an even harsher lesson eventually. The truth about the Half-Blood Prince — about Snape — wouldn’t stay hidden forever.

Until then, tsk tsk…

Harry and Snape’s relationship had always been a tangled mess of grudges and resentment, teetering on the edge of something far more complicated. A twisted, ongoing battle — love and hate forever entwined.

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