Forget-Me-Not Antique Potion Shop, hailed as the most prosperous Potion store in all of Britain, should have been bustling with activity at this moment, customers haggling in front of glass counters, apprentices shuttling between shelves with heavy ingredients, and the air filled with the complex scent of wormwood, dragon's blood, and bay leaves.
However, at this moment, save for a few softly glowing floating magic lamps, the entire shop was as empty as if an expulsion charm had been cast upon it.
“Is this… looted?” Charles muttered softly.
“No need to be surprised, my dear.” A lazy female voice came from the depths of the shop.
The owner of the voice sat in a high-backed chair entwined with green vines, her wide emerald robe draped over the armrests, complementing her wheat-colored skin and the snake-shaped pendant around her neck.
As she stood up, the jeweled bracelets on her wrist jingled, like a string of wind chimes caught in the breeze.
“Your uncle told me early this morning that the Reynold family would be coming today. So I closed the shop to await the arrival of the Child of Nature~~” She slowly walked towards Charles, a cunning smile playing on her red lips.
Charles’s ears instantly burned: “Ah, please don’t call me that anymore, Aunt…”
Isidore Lederos, the current owner of this legendary Potion shop. She didn’t look at all like a “proper” Potion Master. Her makeup always had an exotic flair, with fine peacock-blue lines drawn at the corners of her eyes, and delicate silver chains adorning her hair.
“What are you shy about? Your father was much naughtier than you when he was a child.”
“Isidore.” Reynold cleared his throat, his gaze sweeping over the empty shelves, “Did Big Brother take your inventory again?”
“Last week, he insisted on researching ‘the compatibility of ancient Alchemy and Potions’ and stole three bottles of my out-of-print Norwegian ice snake venom.” Isidore rolled her eyes.
Isabelle chuckled, “How old are you two, still bickering like you did in school.”
Isidore casually waved her wand, and the lights in the shop’s front hall dimmed. She pulled back a tapestry embroidered with a World Tree totem, revealing a hidden door behind it; the real Potion shop was hidden inside.
Hundreds of crystal bottles floated in mid-air, with azure, deep purple, and dark red liquids slowly flowing within them, like a slumbering galaxy.
In the center of the room, a giant magical banyan tree spread its branches, with firefly-like glimmers sparkling among its leaves. Delicate silver threads were entwined around the tree’s branches, resembling some kind of intricate Alchemy circuit.
Most striking was the volcanic rock workbench in the center; various cauldrons, grinding tools for ingredients, and several heavily worn ancient books were scattered across its obsidian-like surface.
“Did Uncle improve the preservation system again?”
Charles leaned in to observe the silver threads, noticing they were continuously releasing an extremely faint mist.
“Mhm, it uses Alchemy to simulate a ‘living environment’. These silver threads regulate temperature, humidity, and the magic field to keep them active.” Isabelle explained softly.
“He always has so many wild ideas.” Isidore snorted lightly, and casually added a scoop of glowing fertilizer to the banyan tree.
No sooner had she spoken than a silver-white Alchemy golem glided out of the shadows. It silently carried a tray of exquisite refreshments, its demeanor as elegant as a Castle butler.
“Ah, Aurelian’s ‘little butler’. After all these years, it’s still so meticulous.” Isabelle gently took the teacup.
“Hmph, its biggest role is to cause me trouble.” Isidore grumbled, but her gaze softened unconsciously.
“Last month, it secretly slipped your brother’s experiment notes under my pillow. Seeing so many Potions wasted on them, I had nightmares all night.”
Dinner was held in the glass conservatory in the shop’s backyard. Butter-fried dragon ribs sizzled, magically ripened tomatoes automatically cut themselves in half in the bowl, and in the center of the dining table, a small cauldron bubbled with fragrant cream soup.
Milena happily waved her wand, and the food on the dining table bounced onto everyone’s plates.
Noelle couldn’t wait for the still-bouncing dragon ribs, directly grabbing one in each hand and eating heartily, not afraid of the heat since she had awakened fire and earth elements.
“Noelle, mind your manners!” Milena lightly chided, and a napkin immediately flew towards her daughter’s face.
“Mmm… dragon ribs aren’t crispy when they’re cold!” Noelle retorted indistinctly, still chewing a large piece of meat, her fiery red hair becoming even fluffier with her movements.
Charles looked at the plate in front of him with some surprise, on which were many “flowers” of various shapes. He felt a rich vitality in these flowers.
“You can even do this, Aunt?”
“What’s so surprising about that? I also awakened the wood element; I understood it after a little research.”
A green light flashed in Isidore’s hand, and then two vines broke out of the ground, wrapped around a small beetle in the garden, and in an instant, a small flower bloomed.
“Don’t underestimate your aunt. She awakened both fire and wood elements at once, a born Potion Master. All her grades in school were O’s; this little thing won’t stump her.” Isabelle elegantly sipped her wine and said softly.
“Thank you for your concern, Aunt.”
“What’s family talking about this for? Eat!”
“So, does the Hogwarts freshman list still require crystal bottles? I can make you a custom shatterproof one.” Aurelian gnawed on a self-rotating corn cob, holding a steaming dragon rib in his hand, and asked Charles casually.
“First, take care of yourself. When are you returning the ice snake venom you ‘borrowed’ last week?” Isidore interrupted him.
“When my thermostat passes Ministry of Magic certification.”
Aurelian pulled out a palm-sized metal box; when the lid opened, it spewed ice mist, instantly freezing Isidore’s wine into a slushie.
“Look! Constant minus twenty degrees, and it uses only a tenth of the energy of a Muggle freezer.”
“Provided it doesn’t suddenly explode.” Reynold calmly cut his steak.
“Oh Reynold, are you still holding a grudge about the alarm clock I made for you when I was 14? I admit its wake-up method was a bit… rough.”
“Big Brother… no one’s alarm clock wakes people up by exploding… Damn it, I still can’t figure out how the scattered parts managed to reassemble themselves.”
“Ho ho ho~ It’s an exclusive secret. If you want to learn, I can tell you.”
“No, thank you.”
Charles tasted a flower that resembled a sunflower, and a familiar sense of comfort appeared once again. It seemed that even if the flowers were different in form, the taste was the same… Perhaps different ingredients had different effects; next time, he would try Aragog.
“Aunt, do you know Professor Snape from Hogwarts?”
The air subtly froze for a moment.
Isidore slowly cut the meat on her plate, “Know him? Oh, I know him very well. There were only three Potion fanatics in our year: Severus, Lily, and me.”
She narrowed her eyes, as if lost in thought, “Lily, that fool, almost threw sneezewort into the cauldron instead of daffodil roots in third year. Severus was so angry he didn’t speak to her for a week.”
Isabelle chuckled lightly: “But you forgot to mention that you secretly helped Lily brew the Potion again later.”
“Because I couldn’t stand her teary green eyes! Like an abandoned fawn.” Isidore pouted and smiled.
“So… you were very good friends?” Charles asked cautiously.
Reynold suddenly let out a low laugh: “Good enough to fight in the library over whether ‘dragon claw powder should be pre-ground’. Of course, in the end, your mother used a Freezing Charm to freeze all three of you to the floor.”
Isabelle’s face flushed slightly: “That’s because you two broke three rare books and made Madam Pince unhappy.”
“Yes, yes, the ‘Bookworm Goblin’ (a little Goblin ‘bewitched’ by books) back then was very fond of Madam Pince. She was practically the ‘Assistant Librarian’ and only needed to say hello to enter the Restricted Section~”
“Isidore!”
Everyone burst into laughter, even the usually reserved Isabelle covered her face with a napkin and coughed. Someone’s magic went out of control, and a group of glowing butterflies rustled out of the strawberry tart, fluttering towards everyone’s wine glasses in the twilight.