The Alchemy Recipe and Quirrell

Victor and Professor Philomon discussed the consultation for a while, mainly focusing on how to stabilize the alchemical potion. Professor Philomon didn't actually have any particularly good methods, but he mentioned one point:

"Are there any conflicts between the alchemical materials? The common solution is to find a magical item to act as a neutralizer. Common ones include unicorn blood, dragon heart, etc... but the best one is still the Philosopher's Stone."

"The Philosopher's Stone?" Victor asked.

"The Philosopher's Stone is actually the most effective neutralizer, capable of making the impossible possible," Professor Philomon said eloquently. "Stones can't be turned into gold? No problem, just use the Philosopher's Stone to neutralize the properties of the stone. Normal materials can't be used to make an elixir of immortality? No problem, just use the Philosopher's Stone to neutralize the conflicts between powerful magical materials and forcibly create it."

"That's why they say the Philosopher's Stone is the crystallization of ancient alchemical wisdom. With it, practically any problem can be solved."

"I see."

Victor nodded thoughtfully.

The Philosopher's Stone.

Isn't it underground?

His thoughts began to drift in directions that Dumbledore would never want to see...

Beside him, Professor Philomon asked curiously, "So what kind of alchemical potion do you want to make?"

"It's probably an alchemical doll that can hold a human soul, like those that can be used on ghosts, I think..."

"squeak!"

Before Victor could finish speaking, the door to the faculty office on the side suddenly made a sound, causing the professors to look over in surprise—the door, which had been closed just moments before, suddenly opened a small crack, as if someone wanted to come in.

But when Professor Kettleburn stood up and opened the office door to check, the door was empty again.

"Who is it?" Professor Bubbaji asked in confusion.

"Nobody's here. Maybe it's some naughty student or a ghost," Kettleburn said.

.......

Victor's conversation with Professor Philomon ended quickly. Professor Philomon kindly said that he would continue to pay attention, and then hurried off to his next class.

So Victor left too.

But he ran into Quirinas Quiro, who was waiting there, at a corner.

Although it was midday, the overcast sunlight failed to illuminate this deserted and dark corridor.

Quirrell was wearing his usual purple turban today. In fact, the third lesson in Muggle Studies covers the hidden meanings that Muggles assign to colors, and purple has long been a symbol of nobility and elegance—whether this was intentional on Quirrell's part is unknown.

But at least, Victor was certain that the headscarf wasn't meant to hide from vampires.

"Good afternoon, Viktor." As soon as Quirrell saw Viktor approaching, he gave a twitching, nervous smile.

"good afternoon."

Victor stopped in his tracks.

"Is there something you need?"

"Yes-yes." Quirrell's smile widened, and he rubbed his hands together. "I happened to overhear a bit of what you said when I passed by the faculty lounge. I-I didn't mean to, but I was just curious."

"Where did you get that alchemy recipe you mentioned?"

"I—I didn't mean anything by it, it's just that I heard about similar magic when I was in Albania. Maybe I can help—maybe."

Quirrell's tone was somewhat ingratiating, but his eyes were fixed on Victor, a stark contrast to his usual demeanor. He wasn't even stuttering as much anymore.

If Snape were to come, he would sneer and then begin questioning him about when he had learned alchemy.

But Victor seemed completely oblivious, simply saying:

"You mean that recipe? It comes from a very remote island, not far from the town where I was born."

"Do you remember what happened on the island back then? I was thinking it might be related to your research," Quirrell asked somewhat reluctantly. "Or—or, could I take a look at that recipe?"

Victor did not refuse, and said calmly:

"This recipe is part of a large alchemical ritual and has been modified by many people. But I remember it originally appeared on a small island called Paradise Island, which experienced ten calamities."

"Ten calamities?"

"Yes, it is said that each one is a special test. These tests are considered unnecessary by alchemists and sages elsewhere, because the same effect can be achieved through other magical steps—but the people on the island still went through the primitive and strange rituals and were thus brought to this calamity."

"The ten plagues are: the plague of blood and water, the plague of frogs, the plague of lice, the plague of flies, the plague of livestock disease, the plague of herpes, the plague of hail, the plague of locusts, the plague of darkness, and the plague of the firstborn son."

"Legend has it that those who have survived all the calamities will gain a superhuman soul and obtain non-human or immortal powers."

Quirrell's expression stiffened slightly, and he stared intently at Victor, his gaze wary. But then, without hesitation, Victor pulled the parchment from his pocket and handed it to Quirrell.

"If you'd like to study this, you can take a look for me; I don't mind."

"Thank you."

Quirrell gave a stiff smile, opened the parchment in his hand, and then his hand paused.

"Uh... what is this? Half-a dozen lies? A mermaid's voice?" His hands trembled slightly as he held the parchment. "This doesn't seem to be a proper alchemy or potion ritual."

Victor shrugged at him.

"It's definitely not from your side."

"But this formula will definitely work," he said casually. "I'm still looking for substitutes for the ingredients, but if you want to work with me on it, I can lend them to you—you'll just have to share the results with me."

"Oh, okay."

Their conversation was almost a charade, but it progressed smoothly because neither of them broke through that thin veil of pretense—at least that's what Quirrell thought.

And then, Victor said the words he had expected before he came—

"So, is there anything else you can offer in return?"