Although Professor Horace on the platform showed great interest in Hermione's outstanding performance just now, he was in no hurry to invite her into his club. Instead, he began introducing the rather special golden cauldron behind him and the potion brewing inside it...
The potion in the cauldron was splashing merrily, its color like molten gold Galleons.
Even more curious, the large droplets leaping across the surface looked like little golden fish, yet not a single drop spilled over the rim.
The scent drifting through the air seemed to be the very thing making Hermione feel pleasantly lazy all over.
This nearly finished potion not only smelled wonderful, it carried a sense of happiness with it.
Just as all the young wizards were craning their necks, trying to figure out what the golden potion was, Professor Horace, one hand resting on his great belly, began the day's Potions lesson. "Yes, it's an exceptionally rare potion, because it's incredibly difficult to brew. If even one step goes wrong, not only will the potion fail, the consequences may be disastrous."
He paused.
"However, if you succeed, you'll find that whatever you do will turn out well... at least until the effects wear off."
At those meaningful words, all the young wizards except Harry Potter, who still looked completely lost, fell into thought.
Among them, Hermione was the first to react. Leaning close to Draco's ear, she softly voiced her conclusion. "Whatever you do will turn out well... that sounds like Felix Felicis! The magical potion that brings you good luck!"
Felix Felicis.
Just one drop, and all your efforts will be rewarded.
If Felix Felicis needed a slogan, that line would fit it perfectly.
And from Professor Horace's few words alone, anyone could tell just how valuable and rare Felix Felicis was...
"It seems everyone's figured it out. That's right, what you see before you is Felix Felicis."
The moment the professor confirmed it, all the young wizards below immediately straightened up, their eyes fixed on the cauldron, full of longing and amazement.
Most of them had only ever heard of or read about the golden-glowing potion before them.
None of them had expected to get the chance to see it here.
Only Harry Potter, who had no idea what Felix Felicis was, still looked utterly confused.
From this alone, it was easy to see just how out of place Harry Potter was compared to the rest of the students in the classroom.
Like a Husky that had somehow wandered into a pack of wolves...
...
Although they knew Felix Felicis existed, many of its details couldn't be learned from books.
And since the young wizards were deeply interested in it, they began raising their hands one after another to ask questions...
"Professor, if it's that amazing, why don't people drink it all the time?"
Judging by the robes he was wearing, the student who asked was probably from Hufflepuff.
"Because it's far too expensive for an ordinary wizard to afford. And if taken in excess, it causes dizziness, recklessness, and dangerous overconfidence."
"Have you ever taken it, Professor?"
"Of course. I've taken it twice in my life. Once when I was twenty-four, and once when I was fifty-seven. I took two spoonfuls at breakfast, and those two days were absolutely perfect."
As he said this, Horace wore a distant, almost dazed look as he stared off ahead. Whether he was playing it up or not, his words made one thing very clear. The effects of Felix Felicis were irresistibly tempting...
Hermione, who was just as interested, turned excitedly to Draco. "Have you taken it too, Draco? Can you tell me what it felt like?"
Although Draco had no idea why Hermione was so certain he had taken Felix Felicis, even if he did receive Christmas gifts from Snape every year, he still slowly shook his head. "No. I don't need that sort of thing to make me more confident."
"More confident? Isn't it supposed to make you..."
"Lucky? Felix Felicis really is magical, but it can't do that. Of course, I won't deny its value."
"...Then, Mr. Malfoy, in all your confidence, could you take your hand off my waist?"
"Ahem... reflex. No, an accident."
Hermione's face turned red as she ground her teeth and glared at the hand that had so smoothly slipped over there.
If they hadn't been in class, she definitely would have made the scoundrel beside her pay for it.
Just then, a wave of startled cries suddenly rose around them, and Hermione thought for a moment that Draco's little move had been noticed by everyone else.
It was only after she listened carefully that she patted her chest in relief.
The reason for the commotion was a single sentence from Horace...
A small bottle had appeared in his hand.
Horace gave the little bottle a gentle shake. "A tiny vial of Felix Felicis can bring twelve hours of good luck, from dawn to dusk. Whatever you do, fortune will smile on you. And I'll be offering it as the prize for this class."
"That's brilliant!"
Horace pressed his hand down for silence, and once the room quieted again, he continued, "However, I must remind you that Felix Felicis is forbidden in organized competitions. Therefore, whoever wins this prize may only use it on an ordinary day... and then wait to see that ordinary day become extraordinary!"
"So, how do you win this marvelous prize? Now then, everyone turn to page ten of Advanced Potion-Making. We've got a little over an hour left, so use that time to brew the potion described there."
Looking at everyone's eager expressions, Horace spoke in high spirits. "I know this is more complicated than anything you've brewed before, and I don't expect anyone to produce a flawless result. But whoever does the best will win this little bottle of Felix Felicis!"
The moment Horace finished speaking, he didn't need to urge them on at all. Every young wizard immediately sprang into action.
The rolling clatter of potion ingredients.
The scraping sound of cauldrons being moved.
Only those sounds filled the air. No one had any interest in talking, because all their attention was fixed on what they were doing.
It had to be said that any wizard who could make it into the advanced class, even if they weren't some once-in-a-generation genius, certainly possessed real talent.
That level of focus and practiced skill alone was already far beyond that of an ordinary sixth-year wizard.
Well... except for Harry Potter, who stood there flustered and completely lost, with no idea where to begin...