"HP: Too Late, System!"Chapter 309: The Magical Radar Stirs
The pharmaceutical research laboratory.
This was the real reason Douglas Holmes had managed to coax Professor Snape into coming along.
Because of the lab's sensitive and highly confidential nature, the factory didn't grant them full access. Instead, they were carefully positioned in a wide, brightly lit corridor, its walls lined with thick, transparent reinforced glass—like a colossal display case. Through this barrier, they could clearly observe the busy, orderly world within the laboratory.
The supervisor greeted them warmly: "Welcome to our pharmaceutical research laboratory. This is the heart of our new drug development. Though it's your first visit, we're honored to show you what we've achieved here."
Douglas nodded with a polite smile, while Snape remained impassive, his gaze sweeping across the lab's interior.
Charts and formulas crowded the walls; the benches were cluttered with test tubes, beakers, and other peculiar instruments.
Professor Snape's nose twitched ever so slightly. He looked down on this Muggle "magic"—or rather, their technology—but even he had to admit, the ingenuity of these devices was undeniable.
As the supervisor explained, Snape realized that Muggles didn't simply toss raw ingredients into a cauldron. Instead, they extracted the active components from various materials through methods like distillation or crystallization, then carefully recombined those extracts to create entirely new medicines.
What intrigued Snape wasn't the concept of extracting and synthesizing ingredients—after all, that was the essence of traditional potion-making, just with different priorities. What truly caught his attention was how Muggles, with their advanced equipment, could separate active components from raw materials with such precision. Their preprocessing methods far outstripped what even the most skilled wizard could achieve by hand.
Even now, after countless hours spent practicing with mundane ingredients, wizardkind couldn't match this level of accuracy.
Take grinding, for instance: wizards still relied on the ancient mortar and pestle. Each person's technique varied, leading to inconsistent results and, inevitably, unpredictable potions.
As the supervisor continued his clear and patient explanations, Professor Snape began to see that Muggle pharmaceutical processes were far more refined than he'd imagined. They didn't simply stew raw materials together; instead, they used a series of precise chemical techniques—distillation, extraction, crystallization—to isolate the necessary components. These might be hidden in fruit, minerals, even waste. Only after careful purification were the components recombined in exact proportions to create new drugs.
To Snape, this wasn't some alien art. On the contrary, it was the very heart of potions mastery—just directed toward different ends, for different worlds.
What truly drew his interest was the machinery: the modern instruments that enabled such precise extraction, the efficiency, the rigor of the process. Their machines could wring every last drop of active ingredient from a plant—something even the most seasoned potion masters could only hope to achieve after years of trial and error.
For example, in the grinding stage, wizards still clung to the old ways. There was a certain ritual to it, yes, but the results were never truly uniform. Each wizard ground their ingredients differently, and so the effects of their potions varied wildly. In the Muggle world, such problems had been solved long ago with advanced pulverizers and homogenizers.
A faint smile touched Snape's lips. He realized he might have stumbled onto a new research direction—or rather, a refinement of the path he'd been exploring since his student days: how to maximize the potential of every ingredient.
Catching the subtle shift in Snape's expression, Douglas's own lips curled upward.
He understood that true innovation often required respected figures like Snape—those with deep knowledge and influence—to quietly, stubbornly push the boundaries of their field.
Seeing that glimmer of interest in Snape's eyes, Douglas felt a rare surge of satisfaction, as if he were witnessing the dawn of a new era for magical pharmacology.
It had nothing to do with his teaching duties, but he couldn't help hoping that the magical world he called home would continue to improve in quality of life. If the potions industry could adopt magically enhanced modern equipment, other sectors might soon follow.
After the factory tour, Professor Snape left without another word.
Only then did Harry sidle up and whisper, "Uncle, do you think Snape is going to punish us when we get back to school?"
Douglas rapped him lightly on the head, feigning annoyance. "It's 'Professor,' Harry! Remember, you must show Professor Snape proper respect. And besides, a teacher's guidance can't be reduced to simple punishment, can it?"
He gave Harry a look of mock gravity. "It's a special kind of attention—a unique educational method. Given the... close relationship between me, your godfather, and Professor Snape, I'm sure he'll provide you with plenty of 'extra care'."
He patted Harry on the shoulder again, as if bestowing some rare honor.
For the rest of the tour, Douglas quietly swapped Sirius back into the group, ensuring the students could continue their educational adventure under his watchful eye.
Before the students could pour out their grievances about Professor Snape to Sirius, Douglas had already slipped away.
Lately, Douglas had been hard at work improving his Magical Radar. Once, it could only cover all of Britain, but thanks to his tireless efforts (or so he reported to Headmaster Dumbledore), the radar's range had expanded significantly.
Of course, this expansion wasn't limitless. Once the signal crossed the British border, the radar's precision dropped sharply—it could only give a rough location within a large region, and for smaller countries, it was nearly useless for pinpointing targets.
Previously, the Magical Radar had shown Wormtail lurking somewhere on the Balkan Peninsula—Albania, to be precise.
But just yesterday, a shift in the radar's glowing signals caught Douglas's attention: the unique indicator for Wormtail began drifting away from the western Balkans, inching steadily inland.
Although the radar's current capabilities couldn't pinpoint Wormtail's exact coordinates, the direction was clear. The target was moving—step by step—closer to Britain.
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