Ethan left the room of requirements after preparing for the next basilisk breeding. The whole extra effort he had to put in now led him to scold himself for killing the basilisk so early. He should have blinded the basilisk and thrown the diadem inside the breeder. He tried to console himself with the thought that the basilisk would probably have been killed by the blast from the diadem that disintegrated the fangs, but he still would try to let the next basilisk live in case his second test would fail as well.
The thoughts quickly vanished from his mind as Professor Snape intercepted him on his way to the Great Hall.
“Come with me.” commanded Snape not waiting for an answer before he started to lead the way to the dungeons.
Ethan was a bit nervous. Professor Snape had always been fair to him, after realizing that he was somewhat of a prodigy in potions, but that didn’t mean that Snape was a person with whom you could easily get along.
Ethan’s mind raced, but he couldn’t even start to guess what Snape wanted from him.
Snape opened the door to the potion classroom, which looked empty as the rows of tables lacked the cauldrons and ingredients that were usually placed all over. The only desk that had the usual tools was Snape's desk.
Ethan could see at a glance that the tools were worn-out but well cared for. The knife looked like it had been sharpened hundreds of times, and the cutting board looked like it had been used since Hogwarts' founding, even though he couldn’t even see a speck of dust or dirt on it.
Snape went past the cauldron, which had nothing in it except some water. He took a single flask from a wooden box on the shelf and presented it to Ethan.
“Do you know what this is?” asked the potionmaster, eying him like a hawk.
Ethan was a bit unsure of what Snape wanted from him. The potion had no toad on it, which meant that the potion wasn’t made by him, and he didn’t believe that Snape would trust a student that wanted to frame him for distributing bad potions with samples that didn’t even have a toad on them.
Ethan studied the golden-colored potion carefully. It looked exactly like a well-done memory potion, with the exact right shade of gold.
“You may open it if you need to,” said Snape, still eying him closely.
Ethan was already sure that it was a memory potion, but he still opened it, and the smell confirmed his guess. His sensory memory skill also showed him that it was the peppermint smell of a perfectly brewed potion. Not too strong, not too weak. Ethan was sure; if it looked like a perfect potion and smelled like a perfect potion, then it surely was a perfect potion.
“It is a perfectly brewed memory potion, sir,” said Ethan, returning the potion to Snape.
“Perfectly brewed? Is that so?” asked Snape, almost teasingly.
“Yes?” said Ethan, still unsure of what Snape wanted from him.
“Then please help me with another potion,” said Snape, taking another flask from the wooden box. The toad logo on the bottle immediately told him that it was one of his potions. “What about this potion?”
“It’s a potion I brewed. It's also a perfectly brewed memory potion,” said Ethan, returning the potion after just glancing at it.
“Are you sure? Please just compare the two; do you see any differences?” said Snape and pressed both flasks into his hands again.
Ethan began to realize what this farce was about. Snape had realized that his potions were more potent than they had any right to be thanks to his skills. The problem was that it wasn’t something Ethan could simply explain, as he used the same recipe but had different results.
“They look and smell the same.” said Ethan, but his voice was quiet, and he almost whispered.
“But they are not the same!” barked Snape.
“I don’t know what you did, but the potion looks, smells, and even tastes the same, but in the end, they are different. Both are perfectly brewed, as you said, but one is more effective than the other. This one, your potion, manages to recover memories even of your earliest childhood, while the other one is much less potent and only recovers memories of my past twenty years with the highest clarity, and older memories are much less affected. As much as it pains me to admit it, even after weeks of experimenting, I was unable to replicate these results. I don’t know if it was just a fluke or if you really are that talented, but you have improved a receipt that hasn’t been changed for almost six hundred years. That recipe alone would give you the ability to get a hold in the potion marked. It would naturally take some time to get some decent profits, and your competitors would try to sabotage you, but, in the end, as long as your potion is really better, you will become decently rich. Knowing your situation, I assume you don’t want to wait a few years for that, so I have a proposal for you. A proposal you should think through. In exchange for 5% of your profits, I will give you my connections into the potion industry and use my name to guarantee the quality of your memory potion, and if it wasn’t just a fluke, any future potion I deem to have the required quality as well. I will also give you a contract to help you get your own portable lab and maybe even greenhouse, like any nameable potion master has.” said Professor Snape, and for the first time since knowing him, Ethan saw something that looked like a friendly smile, or at least an attempt at a friendly smile.
The offer, combined with a surprisingly genuine sign of goodwill, was something Ethan hadn’t expected. It was also an offer that sounded a bit too good to be true. Still, he was quite ambitious with his business, and while 5% sounded like not much, it would be worth thousands of gallons, possibly even millions of gallons, in a few years, and it wasn’t like the memory potion would be the only one he would sell because the increased potency came from his general potion skill and not the specialized one, so by now all potions were 25% more effective. He had given both Leona and Amy ten percent of the share because they were friends and they actually helped him with the sales, but accepting the offer would make Snape a disgustingly rich man if he doesn’t die like in the original, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to do that if Snape would have to work as a spy for Voldemort again, which would mean that all his money would be used against him.
“The offer sounds… good Really good, actually, but I have to talk about it with my friends who are also in the business.” said Ethan, avoiding Snape's stare.
“Like I said, think the offer through. But let me give you one piece of advice. Don’t spill your recipe, or your business will fail before it even starts. No matter how much fame or prestige people promise you. It's not worth it unless you have an even better potion,” said Snape and signalled him to leave.
"Thanks,” said Ethan, as he realized that Snape really just wanted to help him. Otherwise, he would have tried to get the recipe out of him or lured him into a trap to reveal it.
A few hours later, after he had said to Amy and Leona that he needed to talk about something with them, they met in the common room to talk about Snape's offer.
“Wow. I wouldn’t have taken Snape for someone so… so nice. If he really is serious about his offer and would help you, you could potentially supply all of Britain before you finish Hogwarts. Maybe you could even export your potions internationally. Snape is quite a famous potionmaster. Not as famous as Dumbledore or Nicolas Flamel, but he is probably in the top five in Britain, and Britain is second only to France regarding potions. So his recommendation would really be worth something. Especially when one knows how picky potionmasters are when it comes to recommending a potion, they haven’t invented themselves.” said Leona excited.
“I know you were the best! But Snape? The bad-tempered, pettish, grumpy old bat Snape? That is a whole new level!” said Amy and tried to hug him as if he had won the lottery.
With that, it was basically decided, but he would still try to haggle a bit more out of Snape and make sure the five percent was only for the memory potion. He was even willing to give him more percentages if it was just the memory potion. If he couldn’t prevent Voldemort's return or Snape’s return to Voldemort, he could simply stop selling the potion or support their side with more than ten times the money.
He waited for a week to go back to Snape with a counterproposal, as he didn’t want to appear like he really was dependent on him. He knew his business would work even without Snape, and Snape even agreed to that, so it would be good to show Snape that he wasn’t a common, naive first-year student.
In the end, Snape and he haggled a bit back and forth, and the process took three more weeks. Snape seemed to enjoy the process, and in the end, he would give Snape 7% of the profits of the memory potion, and he got the connections to various shops in Hogsmead and Diagon Alley, as well as two more cities, and Snape would pay half the cost for his transportable lab and greenhouse. The deal would be finished in the holidays, and they should remain quiet about it till then.
While he was busy getting the contract with Snape down, not only did his skills improve even further, but the second basilisk also hatched. He had almost drowned the basilisk in sleeping potion before he stabbed the snake's eyes. The amount of sleeping potion was necessary as the basilisk was highly resistant to any kinds of toxins, and the sleeping potion counted towards that as well.
Knowing that there was a risk that the basilisk would die if he attacked the horcrux too soon, he didn’t make any further experiments and simply caged the large woodbox, which he had enchanted with the unbreakable charm.
The weeks went by in a flash while he grinded his skills and stockpiled potions to sell them. He looked satisfied at his skill list and thought about how to improve his growth further.
Name:
Ethan Brown
Age:
11
Health
100%
Mana
100%
Stamina
100%
Tier 1 Skills:
Level
Thinking
89
Sleeping (in bed)
50
Harvesting (Magical plants in a greenhouse)
71
Experimenting
71
Spellcasting (With a wand and an incantation)
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
89
Brewing (Memory Potion)
35
Potion Making
24
Spellcasting (Protego)
89
Spellcasting (Petrificus Totalus)
89
Herbology (Magical plants in a greenhouse)
106
Tier 1 Skillpoints:
210
Tier 1 Skills (Stagnant)
Level
Breathing
122
Walking
121
Reading
200
Talking
138
Calculating
104
Studying
179
Writing
106
Memorize
100
Teaching
100
Punching
80
Headstart
201
Tier 2 Skills
Level
Collaborative Learning
64
Pleasing Voice
105
Jab
102
Sensory Memory
61
Marathon
78
Precise Calculation
67
Elaborate Writing
34
Enduring Respiration
93
Contextual Perception
101
Empty
-
Tier 2 Skillpoints
406
Tier 2 Skills (Stagnant)
Headstart II
201
Tier 3 Skills (Locked)
Level (Locked)
Headstart III
5
…
…
Tier 3 Skillpoints
5
Tier 4 Skills (Locked)
Level (Locked)
Requirements to Unlock
Collect 50 Tier 3 Skillpoints
The headstart boni were showing their effects. With a 75% boost, every skill seemed to soar. Well, the effect wasn’t as apparent on the higher-level skills, but that they were leveling at all was a sign that he was doing something right.
The most surprising growth had his herbology skill. He wasn’t sure if he had found a glitch in his system, but the skill only required him to harvest or plant ten plants on level 1, which meant that he only needed to plant or harvest 50500 plants to reach level 100. His calculation skill told him that that would still be 28858 plants with the headstart boost, which would have been quite a lot if it were normal plants like tomatoes or cabbages, but the system counted a handful of stalks he planted or harvested. But the grass only needed a week to grow normally before it could be harvested again. Now with his skill at that level, he could harvest every two days, and the amount he could harvest also grew with each day as he didn’t stop planting more. After realizing how the system counted the fluxweed and knotgrass, he started to focus on them more than initially planned, even though they were more or less worthless. Sure, fluxweed and knotgrass could be used in the polyjuice potion, but the demand for those was quite low. The knotgrass was a bit more versatile, as it could also be used to brew the invisibility potion or knotgrass mead, but as the grass was so low on its growth requirements, every store that needed larger quantities had its own small farm.
Because of that, Ethan could only burn the grass after harvesting it, as it was a waste to even store it. Maybe he would start to brew his own mead, but that would still be far in the future, as even in the wizarding world, underage drinking was heavily frowned upon, and after doing some research, he learned that to get the permit to sell the mead, he would need to be 17 as well. The skill growth alone made it still worth it to grow this grass in masses.
Even with his current speed, he would be able to reach level 200 roughly at the beginning of the next year, but his speed was steadily increasing, which meant that he would probably reach it in half that time. He would then think about upgrading the skill or using it to farm a few more points, as he had to make up for the points he used to upgrade the headstart skill. The insane growth had also led him to believe that it would be wise to get the planting skill too, just to farm more skill points.
Despite these skills, he also made another discovery. His jab skill didn’t need to actually hit something like the punch skill did. So, he was able to level the skill by punching the air during his 15-kilometer morning run. His pleasing voice skill also leveled when he cast spells, so when he trained his verbal spellcasting, this skill also leveled, even though the increase was only light, as in the end he said much more when he talked with Leona and Amy. It was still nice to see that the skills benefitted from each other, especially now that he could cast his two chosen spells at 445% (specific spell) + 267% (general) the normal speed while ignoring the limitation of his ability to speak fast. He guessed that the spell wouldn’t even be understandable if it weren’t for his speaking skills. Maybe if his speaking skill evolved to T3, it would increase his talking speed and amplify his casting speed even further. Maybe even by a multiplier, as his base casting speed would increase with his ability to speak faster.
As the exams were getting closer, Ethan realized that he was perhaps the most relaxed student in Hogwarts. He wasn’t worried in the slightest about the exams. He could probably even contest most fifth-year students in regards to magical knowledge and fight a sixth- or even seventh-year student just with his protego charm and petrificus totalus charm.
He was on his way to feed the basilisk, which had been growing at a fast but steady pace, when a grin appeared on his face as he thought that maybe Voldemort wasn’t as much of a threat. By the time he revived in Harry's fourth year, he was confident in being able to bind him with a swarm of petrificus totalus spells, which, if his skills developed as he suspected, would even be able to break through his shields. The thought made him realize that he still needed to plan ahead for Quirrell. He knew that Quirrell was probably in Romania right now and might have already stumbled upon Voldemort. Perhaps he has already become his host. He had looked at his memories of the movies multiple times and was sure that Quirrell was already the host when Harry met him inside the Leaking Cauldron on Harry’s birthday.
The easiest way to eliminate Quirrell was to push Harry on Quirrell the moment Quirrell rejected shaking hands with Harry. Maybe it would even lead to them getting a different Defense against the Dark Arts teacher because Quirrell was a terrible teacher, if one could interpret Umbridge’s approval of him as an indicator.
Just when he was barely a hundred meters away, he heard a deafening scream. He saw that Sybbil Trewlany was running out of the room of requirements, chased by the basilisk, which he had put so much effort into rising. She dropped a few bottles of sherry as she ran in the opposite direction of him, screaming her soul out. The snake was increadibly fast for not being able to see, and only twenty meters were between Sybbill and the snake.
Luckily, he had already blinded the basilisk, or Trelawny would have already been dead. It took Ethan a few seconds to realize that he had to chase after them if he wanted to prevent anyone from discovering the basilisk. Luckily, Trelawney was so drunk that no one would believe her, even if she told anyone about it.
Using his running skills, he chased after them and quickly drew closer. As he ran, he had to cough despite his skills because he was hit by a heavy cloud reeking of sherry, puke, and incense. It was the first time he was able to hold his breath as he chased them.
As soon as he was able to see them, he cast three petrificus totalus within a second, but the only one that hit was unable to stop the basilisk even for a second.
“If one doesn’t work, I will try a hundred, you stupid worm,” cursed Ethan as he started to chase again.
After almost flying down a spindle stair, he saw that Trewlany and the Snake were running down the next straight stair that went up again.
‘By now, her screams must have alerted the whole castle?’ thought Ethan while running. By now he had closed the distance to fity meters, forty, thirty, twenty-five. “Shiiitt!!!”
The stair the basilisk and Trelawny had just entered was changing its direction. Ethan's first thought was to jump over, but he realized a few meters before the edge that he wouldn’t be able to make the jump. He tried to stop, but with the speed he was running, his momentum was too large to stop before the edge. Just when he lost the ground under his feet, he managed to grab the reeling floor he had been on. The adrenaline flooded his veins as he looked down the six stories he had almost fallen down. The students on the lower floors were starting to scream as they saw him hanging from the edge but with a surprisingly fluid motion, like getting back on his broom, he got a single leg up on the floor again and then managed to quickly pull himself back up.
Trelawny had in the meantime also fallen due to the sudden movements of the stairs. It was already a wonder she hadn’t stumbled sooner, as drunken as she was.
“Please, please don’t!” cried Trelawny as the basilisk was slowly, almost playfully preparing its second attack after biting into the stairs the first time.
It didn’t take a genius to know that Trelawney was about to die.
Ethan’s heart raced. If she died, it was one hundred percent his fault. His mind was screaming at him that he needed to do something, but what could he do from where he stood?
He did the only thing that came to mind: he shot a few spells at the basilisk. After three consecutive headshots, the Basilik was pushed a bit to the side, but despite getting more angry and hissing in his direction, it didn’t do much.
As he rained down another few spells, the basilisk learned that it would only get hit when his head reached a certain height because its lower body was protected by the railing.
Still, Ethan's efforts paid off because Sybill was crouching and stumbling up the stairs. Luckily, the next stair, which would connect the two floors again, even if in a roundabout way, started to move.
Ethan's mind raced on how he could delay the King of Snakes even further.
As his best spell wasn’t able to hit the basilisk anymore, he used bombarda to bomb away the railing.
With a deafening explosion, the reeling and part of the stairs were splintered away. Even the basilisk froze in shock at the sudden tremors. Ethan didn’t hesitate and sent another bombarda at the stairs, ignoring the debris that was falling down until he heard screams from the lower floors.
The debris was raining down on the lower floors, and it seems a few students even got hit by it.
The snake, having seemingly forgotten about Trelawny, wanted to get away from the tremors as soon as possible and ironically ran in the direction of the source of the tremors. His direction over the new connection from the stairs that had reconnected the two floors.
Just as Ethan wanted to celebrate that he had saved Trelawney, he realized that the snake had a new target. Him. He started to rain down petrifcus totalus spells on the basilisk, but because the snake was keeping her head down, they were deflected by the hard scales of the snake. The spells weren’t even able to slow down the basilisk and only caused it to hiss angrily.
Panicking, Ethan started to run backward while firing more and more spells at the monster while the snake chased. He even tried various different spells, like the stunning spell, bombarda, confringo, or sectumsempra, but all to no avail. The snake just brushed them off, with barely a few scratches. Even the bombarda didn’t scare it away anymore now that it had identified its source and learned that the explosions didn’t seriously hurt it.
Ethan was by now climbing the spiraling stairs backwards, and he was unlucky enough to step onto a trick stair that one had to skip because it occasionally vanished. As Ethan was trying to get up again, the snake prepared an attack, and he could only try to react as the sneak's head with the stabbed eyes drew closer. Out of reflex, he gave the snake an uppercut when he could already smell its reeking breath. That punch was the most effective thing he had done until now, as the snake’s teeth had pierced its own lower jar.
The basilisk squirmed in pain, and Ethan could feel the pain it must be feeling from its screech-like hissing.
Just when he wanted to use the moment to lift himself out of the hole from the stair and run, he grabbed a shoe. A high-heeled black wizard shoe. As Ethan looked up, he saw the edges of a purple robe with detailed golden flowers woven into it.
“A Basilisk? That is certainly interesting.” said Dumbledore as he flicked his wand, and the basilisk’s head separated from its still-squirming body.
“What is the meaning of this, Albus?” said Professor McGonagall almost fearfully as she stared at the bleeding corpse of the basilisk.
“I don’t know Minerva; I don’t know. But I think our priority should be to take care of our students for now. Don’t you think so too, mister Brown?” said Dumbledore while scratching his beard.