Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 745: The Real Aged Mead

The Hospital Wing.

As Kyle had predicted, Madam Pomfrey did not ask what had happened—perhaps because she was too shocked to form a question at first.

What could she say? Even at Hogwarts, it was rare for students to bring a comatose professor to the Hospital Wing.

It wasnʼt until Kyle explained the situation that Madam Pomfrey let out a relieved sigh. Once she calmed down, she confirmed that Slughorn and Ron were indeed just unconscious, as Kyle had assured her.

“Dumbledore is always like this—the professors he hires are becoming more and more unreliable…” Madam Pomfrey muttered, unable to suppress her complaint. “He’s a Potions professor, and yet he still managed to ingest something laced with Amortentia.”

Kyle merely shrugged, offering no argument.

Madam Pomfrey had a point. While Amortentia itself was tasteless, it altered the color of food, making it appear unnaturally bright and glossy, as if coated in wax. A careful observer would certainly notice. And for a wizard well-versed in potions, recognizing it should have been second nature.

Kyle couldnʼt speak for everyone, but he was certain that Snape, at least, would never make such a careless mistake. So in some ways, Madam Pomfrey wasn’t wrong to call Slughorn unreliable.

After venting her frustration, she instructed Kyle to place Ron and Slughorn in separate beds.

The antidote to a Love Potion wasn’t particularly difficult to make. Madam Pomfrey retrieved a few bottles from the shelf and poured their contents into two glasses.

“Oh no, there’s not enough Baruffio’s Brain Elixir,” she realized with a frown. Glancing at the two unconscious figures, she corrected herself mid-thought. “One of you, go find Slughorn—” She caught herself again and quickly amended, “Well, go find Professor Snape. He should have some.”

“No need,” Kanna said promptly. “If it’s Baruffio’s Brain Elixir, I have some here.”

She pulled out a sealed potion bottle and handed it to Madam Pomfrey.

“Is this all right?”

“Perfect,” Madam Pomfrey replied. After a quick inspection, she uncorked the bottle and added the elixir to one of the glasses.

She then plucked a few rue petals from a nearby flowerpot, wrapped them in a bit of soil, crushed them, and stirred the mixture in.

In less than five minutes, the two antidotes were ready.

Just then, Harry burst into the Hospital Wing, breathless, with Professor McGonagall hurrying in behind him.

“By Merlin! Will someone please tell me what’s going on?!”

Her face turned pale at the sight of the two motionless figures in the hospital beds, and she nearly stumbled. Fortunately, Kanna stepped forward just in time to steady her.

“Thank you, Miss Prince,” Professor McGonagall said, pressing a hand to her chest. “What happened? What’s going on at the school? What happened to them?”

“It’s all right, Professor. They just accidentally drank a Love Potion,” Kyle explained. “They were… a little too lively afterward, so we had to use the Stunning Spell to get them here more easily. Well… also for the sake of their dignity.”

“Just the Love Potion?” Professor McGonagall was momentarily stunned. It took her a few seconds to process before she turned toward Harry.

He had burst into her office in a panic, barely saying anything beyond insisting that something terrible had happened before dragging her here. Given the chaos and the alarmed whispers spreading through the castle, she had nearly believed that Death Eaters had infiltrated Hogwarts.

“I appreciate your concern for your friends, Mr. Potter, but in the future, when something happens, you must get to the point immediately,” Professor McGonagall said, exasperation evident in her tone.

Harry nodded, looking a little embarrassed. He had to admit—he may have overreacted just a little.

All right, Minerva, we’ll talk about your business later,” said Madam Pomfrey as she approached with the antidote. “Please, wake one of them up first.”

Kyle waved his wand, and Ron’s eyes snapped open.

“Where am I? Where’s Romilda…”

“There is no Romilda here,” Madam Pomfrey said briskly. She walked over and, without any hesitation, pinched Ron’s mouth shut and poured the antidote straight down his throat.

“You could’ve just made up some excuse to get him to drink it,” Harry muttered, watching Madam Pomfrey’s method with mild exasperation. “In his current state, it wouldn’t have been hard.”

Madam Pomfrey pretended not to hear. She wasn’t in the mood to waste time thinking of excuses—it was simply more efficient this way.

Soon, the entire glass of antidote was gone.

Harry watched anxiously as Ron, who had been struggling just moments ago, suddenly shuddered. A look of sheer horror overtook his face.

“Where am I… Oh my, what have I done?!” he gasped, clutching his hair as if he wished he could vanish into the smallest gap at the head of the bed.

“There, that’s better,” Madam Pomfrey said matter-of-factly. “Just don’t eat anything strange in the future.”

She picked up the second glass of antidote from the table.

Kyle pointed his wand again just in time.

Like Ron, Slughorn started howling as soon as he woke up.

“Ah… Rosmerta, where are you? You’re the Lady’s Mantle in the Potion of Beauty, and your hair sparkles like Felix Felicis in the cauldron.”

“Oh? Is Madam Rosmerta’s hair blonde?” Kanna glanced at Kyle with curiosity.

“You’re right…” Kyle paused for a moment in thought. “I don’t think so, at least not the dazzling blonde of Felix Felicis.”

But Madam Pomfrey didn’t concern herself with that. She moved to Slughorn and, just as she had done with Ron, poured the antidote down his throat.

A few seconds later…

Another scream rang out. Slughorn hunched over, his large frame desperately trying to hide beneath the thin hospital sheets.

“All right, Professor Slughorn, we don’t have time for games.”

Professor McGonagall stepped forward and pulled back the sheet. “Would you please tell me what is going on?”

“It was Rosmerta!” Slughorn groaned, covering his face as though he’d been run over by a carriage. “She gave me a Crystalized Pineapple with Love Potion! And she knew I wouldn’t be able to resist—I told her so!”

“Madam Rosmerta… are you sure?” Professor McGonagall asked, her expression sharp.

“Of course!” Slughorn snapped indignantly, then, with surprising agility for someone of his size, leaped out of bed. “No, I’m going to go and ask her myself!”

“I’ll go,” Professor McGonagall said, giving him a firm look. “Everyone’s saying you were attacked by Death Eaters, and it would be best if you were seen walking around the castle instead.”

With that, she turned and left the Hospital Wing.

Slughorn, however, made no move to follow her instructions. Instead, he slumped back onto the bed with a heavy sigh.

Beside him, Ron looked just as miserable.

It wasn’t surprising. Most people who had been under the influence of a Love Potion—and had been witnessed behaving under its effects—woke up looking similarly humiliated.

The atmosphere in the room grew undeniably awkward.

“Would you like something to drink to cheer you up?” Kyle asked, breaking the silence. “I have wine and mead here. Any preferences?”

“…Mead, if I may,” Slughorn murmured, clearly in need of some liquid comfort.

Kyle took out a golden cup and gave it a slight flick. The once-empty cup immediately filled with golden mead.

“Nice Refilling Charm,” Slughorn muttered absentmindedly.

He hadn’t been particularly impressed at first—until Kyle poured the mead into the same cup that had just held the antidote.

The moment it left the golden cup, the aroma of the mead seemed to expand, filling the entire room with a light, lingering fragrance.

“Oh, Merlin…” Slughorn couldn’t remain melancholic any longer as he took a deep sniff, his nose twitching eagerly.

“My boy, this must be the most authentic oak-aged mead.”

“I don’t know about the oak, but it’s definitely aged,” Kyle muttered, glancing at the gold cup in his hands.

His voice was too quiet for anyone else to hear, except for Kanna, who stood nearby.

On the other side, Slughorn couldn’t wait any longer. He brought the cup to his lips and took a sip. The moment the mead touched his tongue, a look of deep satisfaction spread across his face.

Kyle observed him for a moment before asking in a low voice, “Professor, what do you think?”

“It’s fantastic,” Slughorn said, smacking his lips appreciatively. “I was wrong before. This isn’t just any oak—it’s Ironwood Oak, isn’t it?”

“Ironwood Oak…” Harry repeated, frowning slightly. “What is that?”

“A magical tree,” Slughorn explained enthusiastically. “Legend has it that the doors of Hogwarts were built from it, which is why they’ve lasted for a thousand years.” His voice carried the same reverence one might use when speaking of a fine vintage. “It’s also recognized as the best wood for aging mead—but it’s extremely rare, even rarer than the Whomping Willow.”

With that, he took another small sip, savoring it.

“Professor,” Kyle asked again, watching him carefully, “you don’t think there’s anything… off about the taste, do you?”

“What? Of course not,” Slughorn said firmly. “This is the best mead I’ve ever tasted. In fact, if you could pour me another glass—”

Kyle had already stopped listening. As long as he knew the wine was drinkable, nothing else mattered.

Ever since he had retrieved the golden cup, he had been curious to try the wine that came from it. But he hadn’t dared. After all, it had been over a thousand years—who knew if it was still safe?

But now he was sure. It was perfectly fine.

Satisfied, he poured some for Ron as well. They had both been affected by the Love Potion; it wouldn’t be fair to offer one and not the other.

Ron, impatient, grabbed the glass the moment Kyle finished pouring. Ignoring whatever Harry had been saying, he tipped it back and drank it all in one go.

Slughorn frowned at the display. A fine mead like this was meant to be savored slowly. Was pumpkin juice no longer good enough for quenching thirst?

“Hoo… that’s really good,” Ron smacked his lips, his expression one of deep appreciation. “Way better than The Three Broomsticks!”

Then he turned to Harry. “What did you say?”

“Nothing,” Harry replied, shaking his head. His attention, however, lingered on Slughorn with a thoughtful expression.

Slughorn, for his part, had been drinking more and more slowly as his glass emptied. Yet rather than ask for more, he kept glancing at Kyle, as if he wanted another refill but was too shy to ask outright.

“Who brought alcohol in here?!”

Madam Pomfrey’s sharp voice cut through the air as she stormed into the room, her gaze sweeping over everyone before settling coldly on Slughorn.

“This is the Hospital Wing, Professor Slughorn, not your office!” she snapped. “Now, take your mead and get out!”

“No, actually, I—”

“Yes, Professor Slughorn, we’d better go back,” Kyle interjected smoothly. “A lot of people saw me bring you here, and they seem to have misunderstood something. You need to clear things up.”

“You’re right,” Slughorn agreed, suddenly recalling what Professor McGonagall had said earlier.

Perhaps it was because his mood had improved, or perhaps he feared that Madam Pomfrey would confiscate his mead if he lingered too long, but he made no further attempts to stay. Rising from the bed, he took his glass and exited the Hospital Wing.

The others followed suit.

When Kyle returned to the castle, he quickly realized that things were just as chaotic as Professor McGonagall had described.

Almost all the students had gathered in the Great Hall, their faces filled with undisguised fear as they whispered and speculated about what had happened.

But in a way, this was convenient. At least they wouldn’t have to run all over the castle to find everyone.

The moment Slughorn entered the Great Hall, all eyes turned toward him.

“Professor Slughorn?”

“Are you okay?”

“You’re alive?”

…

The chatter in the Great Hall instantly grew louder, buzzing and humming as students whispered amongst themselves.

“Quiet, quiet!” Slughorn called out as he strode to the center of the hall. “I’m glad so many of you care, but please rest assured—I simply had a little mishap while brewing a potion.”

“Why did you lose consciousness?” someone asked from the crowd.

“Good question,” Slughorn said, nodding. “Remember how I always tell you to pay full attention when brewing potions and not to get distracted? That’s why. Some potions can be very dangerous if they aren’t prepared properly.”

Many students still looked skeptical, but seeing how lively and energetic Slughorn appeared now, they had no choice but to accept his explanation.

As the realization set in that the situation had been a misunderstanding, the tension in the room gradually eased. One by one, students began leaving the Great Hall.

When only five people remained, Slughorn sat down heavily on a bench and let out a breath.

“I think I’ve fulfilled my part of the bargain,” he said, glancing at the others. “I have a favor to ask. Could you please forget about what happened today? Or at the very least, not tell anyone else?”

“Of course,” Kyle replied easily, then tilted his head. “But, Professor… how could you not have noticed something like the Love Potion?”

Slughorn simply shrugged, clearly unwilling to dwell on something so embarrassing.

“Let’s just let it go, shall we?” he muttered. “Let’s both pretend this never happened… that you never saw me this morning.”

“Yes, yes…” Ron nodded quickly in agreement. “And please don’t tell anyone else—especially Lavender. I don’t want her to get the wrong idea.”

“I’m sorry, Ron…” Harry’s eyes seemed unfocused for a moment. “But… you actually did see Lavender when I took you out of the common room.”

Ron’s expression froze.

“She came to give you your birthday present,” Harry continued carefully. “But you told her to go away… because you wanted to find Romilda. Don’t you remember?”

Ronʼs face went stark white. His mouth opened, but only a shaky, disbelieving sob escaped his throat.

“Damn it…” he groaned, burying his head in his hands. “Why would Romilda Vane give me a Love Potion when I don’t even know her?!”

“I think… I was the intended target,” Harry whispered. “The Chocolate Cauldrons were her Christmas present to me, but after Hermione warned me that she’d bought a Love Potion, I threw them under my bed.”

“Then why did you give them to me?!” Ron snapped, frustration and mortification thick in his voice.

“I didn’t give them to you,” Harry said quickly. “Remember this morning? When you got out of bed, you accidentally kicked some of my presents under your bed.”

Harry’s words triggered something in Ron’s memory.

He had, in fact, found the Chocolate Cauldrons while tidying up his gifts. Since the packaging had remained intact, he hadn’t given them a second thought and had simply mixed them in with his own presents. And after weeks without chocolate—thanks to the ban on students visiting Hogsmeade—he hadn’t been able to resist taking a bite.

“Sorry…” Ron mumbled, lowering his head. “But you really should have just thrown it away. I mean, with a Cleaning Charm, not just left it under your bed.”

“I… I forgot,” Harry admitted quietly.

“Ron, is today your birthday?” Kanna suddenly asked.

“Ah, yeah,” Ron sighed, still looking a little miserable.

“Sorry, I didn’t know, and I don’t have a present,” Kanna said, rummaging through her bag. A moment later, she pulled out a small bottle.

“This is the antidote to the Love Potion from the Hospital Wing. Consider it a gift from me,” she said. “Now you won’t have to worry about anything like what happened today.”

Ron looked down at the bottle in surprise before quickly accepting it.

“Great, thanks,” he said sincerely. The whole experience had shaken him enough that he was genuinely relieved to have an antidote on hand.

“This is mine,” Slughorn added from beside him, reaching into his own pocket and pulling out another bottle.

Unlike Kanna’s gift, however, this bottle contained a shimmering, golden liquid.

Ron’s breath caught as he recognized it instantly—the way the potion winked in the light was unmistakable.

“Liquid Luck?!” His voice shot up an octave in disbelief. “This is really for me?”

“Of course,” Slughorn said, though there was a trace of reluctance in his voice. “As long as you don’t—”

“I won’t tell anyone about today!” Ron interrupted, nodding so quickly he nearly gave himself whiplash.

“Okay, here’s mine,” Kyle said next, pulling out his own gift.

Compared to Kanna and Slughorn’s presents, Kyle’s seemed far more ordinary—a large box full of Honeydukes sweets and chocolates.

But unlike the others, his gift was wrapped properly, complete with a gold and red ribbon. It had clearly been prepared in advance.

“Thanks,” Ron said, his mood visibly lifting as he took the box. “I haven’t had any of these in two months… Mum won’t let me go to Diagon Alley, and Fred and George won’t bring me anything.”

Receiving three gifts in a row—including an incredibly rare bottle of Felix Felicis—had improved his mood significantly.

Without hesitation, he grabbed a piece of fudge and stuffed it into his mouth. Then, after a brief moment of thought, he shoved all the chocolates in the box toward Harry.

He didn’t even need to say anything. He simply didn’t want to see another piece of chocolate for a long, long time.