Filch's tone revealed both fear and longing.

Seeing him like this, Dumbledore sighed slightly. In the wizarding world, the number of Squibs was not small, but many families kept it hidden.

This was also to protect them.

Dumbledore spoke solemnly, "Mr. Filch, I can't guarantee anything completely. This is a long process, but we will find a way."

Filch regained his composure, pulled out a dirty rag from his pocket to blow his nose, and said firmly, "Headmaster Dumbledore, I trust you. You're the only one willing to give a Squib like me a job."

"Please give me the potion."

Hoare had only been at Hogwarts for a few days, but every time he saw Filch, he was hunched over, lurking in the shadows.

But now, for the first time, Filch stood straight, chest out, reaching his right hand towards Dumbledore.

Dumbledore picked up the potion from the headmaster's desk and placed it in Filch's hand.

Filch took it, looking at the bottle in his hand, emitting a faint blue glow, indescribably beautiful.

He swallowed hard, pulled out the cork with a jerk, closed his eyes, and poured it directly into his mouth.

Because of his large movement, Filch staggered backward, almost falling.

Dumbledore quickly used a summoning charm to bring a nearby chair to catch Filch.

After swallowing the potion, Filch sat quietly in the chair, unsure of what to say.

Dumbledore, Snape, and Hoare surrounded Filch, their eyes fixed on him, not missing a single reaction.

They were all waiting for Filch's feedback.

At first, Filch didn't feel anything; he just thought the potion was sweet and quite tasty, much better than those in the infirmary.

Then, not long after, about five minutes later.

He felt as if flames were igniting inside his body, not a blaze, but small flickers.

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It wasn't painful or itchy, but it was extremely uncomfortable, so much so that he wanted to roll on the ground, to tear at his skin and scratch with all his might.

With a loud "bang," Filch fell from the chair to the ground, accompanied by convulsions.

Seeing Filch in such a state, Dumbledore and the others hurriedly stepped forward to inquire.

"Mr. Filch, how do you feel?"

"Mr. Filch? Mr. Filch!"

But at this moment, Filch couldn't hear them at all; all he could hear was something surging within him.

He opened his mouth, trying hard to shout, to scream. But in Hoare's eyes, he looked like a fish washed ashore, struggling desperately to survive.

Snape quickly crouched down to check, Filch's body was like a battlefield, chaotic inside. He frowned deeply, looking at Dumbledore, "We need to take him to the infirmary."

Just as Dumbledore raised his wand to send Filch to the infirmary, Filch finally spoke.

When he first opened his mouth, his voice was hoarse, as if he hadn't drunk water for days.

"I felt it..."

"I felt it!"

"Mr. Filch, how are you?" Hoare stepped forward to help Filch up, letting him sit on the chair.

Filch looked up at Dumbledore, his eyes like a storm, completely out of control.

He cried out loud, as aggrieved as a child.

"I felt my magic!"

"I'm not a Squib."

"I'm not."

Success!

Snape and Dumbledore exchanged a glance.

Dumbledore quickly reached out to grasp Filch's wrist, channeling a trace of magic inside.

As time passed, Dumbledore finally withdrew his hand.

Snape and Dumbledore exchanged another glance, concealing their thoughts.

"Dear Henry, could you do this old man a favor and take Mr. Filch to the infirmary so Madam Pomfrey can give him a thorough check-up?" Dumbledore asked kindly.

"Alright, Headmaster, please don't forget what you promised me."

Hoare wasn't a fool; he could see that Dumbledore and Snape wanted to have a private conversation, and were trying to send him and Filch away.

"Oh, my dear child, rest assured, though I'm old, my memory is still quite good." Dumbledore chuckled as he promised.

Hoare smiled back, then helped Mr. Filch out of the headmaster's office.

Once the door to the headmaster's office closed.

Snape spoke, "Dumbledore, what's Filch's condition?"

"He's fine, very fine." Dumbledore returned to his seat, "Severus, that potion must be kept in our hands; it will cause a sensation in the entire world."

Dumbledore sighed, removing his glasses to wipe them, "I'm old, never thought the young people today could be so capable."

"Hmph." Snape snorted coldly, as if dismissing Dumbledore's words.

"If you want that potion, why are you talking to me? You should be speaking with that little brat." Snape's voice was icy.

"His potion is still unstable. Although Filch has magic within him now, it's just a wisp, and it's even slowly fading." Dumbledore's deep eyes looked at Snape, "I believe you felt it too."

Snape nodded stiffly.

Yes, the magic that appeared in his body due to the potion lasted about an hour and was already starting to fade slowly.

It seems the potion's effect on Squibs is even shorter.

"If it stabilizes..."

Dumbledore didn't finish his sentence, but Snape understood.

"I'll discuss the acquisition with young Henry." Dumbledore sighed, thinking that a single potion cost 1000 Galleons, and if they were to acquire it, the boy's asking price wouldn't be low.

Previously, they had agreed that Hogwarts would guarantee the acquisition, which meant getting past the board of governors.

Thinking of the board, Dumbledore thought of the overly shrewd Lucius Malfoy.

Since it was a business matter, it was best to let the professionals handle it.

Dumbledore immediately decided to pass the buck.

"What do you need me to do?" Snape, having known Dumbledore for so many years, asked.

"I need you to help this child perfect this potion." Dumbledore requested, but Snape knew he had no choice but to agree, and there was no need to refuse, as he was also very curious.

"Hmph! Would he need help?" Snape thought of Henry William's argumentative demeanor in class and felt irritated, but he had to admit that Henry William was indeed a genius.

If Henry William requested his guidance, perhaps he would be willing, just to see another Potions Master emerge in the wizarding world.

"He's still too young, doesn't know how to hide his brilliance; he needs our help and guidance." Dumbledore paused, then continued, "Moreover, only with you by his side, no one will suspect who the true inventor of the potion is."

"Are you suggesting I take credit for Henry William's potion!?" Snape's sallow face darkened; he couldn't accept it.

"Rest assured, no one will know who the inventor is unless Henry is willing."

Dumbledore explained his agreement with Henry William to Snape, which finally brought a better expression to his face.

He had just looked like he was about to give Dumbledore an Awakening Potion to clear his mind.