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chapter 171 part 1
Chapter 168: Saddled with a Long-Term Debuff...
2022-07-14 Author: I'm Just a Pigeon
Looking at the full bucket of chicken blood, William was in a bit of a pickle. Pig's blood could be made into blood tofu with salt and water, but could chicken blood?
Besides, he had never actually tried any dishes made with chicken blood. He’d had duck blood in hot pot, but the two probably weren't interchangeable, right?
William thought for a moment and finally decided to give it a try. If it didn't work out, then so be it; the ingredients would be wasted. He couldn't just leave the blood lying around, letting it become a potential hazard, could he?
The theory was to mix salt and water in a certain ratio, then pour the chicken blood in.
After five or six failed attempts, William, relying on his experience from correcting mistakes in Potions, successfully produced his first batch of blood curd. After that, the rest of the bucket of blood was naturally turned into "tofu."
‘Now that it’s solidified into blocks, it should have lost its effect—unless that bizarre ritual requires hot pot ingredients.’
"Adams, recognize this?"
William showed off the block of blood. He remembered that many cultures don't consume animal blood.
"Blood sausage? It looks a bit like it, but without the casing—" Adams poked it uncertainly with his hand. "Eating solidified chicken blood directly? That's quite an idea. I could try cooking with it."
"Blood sausage?"
This time, it was William's turn to be surprised.
"Of course, German blood sausage. It's a very famous dish—" He took the blood tofu from William's hands. "Don't underestimate a Hufflepuff graduate!"
*Don't go adding strange new traits to Hufflepuff graduates!*
But Adams, busy researching a new dish, had no time for William's silent retort. He began pulling all sorts of things from his satchel—a cutting board, three sets of knives, four pots of different shapes, a mess of herbs William couldn't even identify, and a wide array of spice boxes…
"It'll be ready soon. I'm just going to try out a few cooking methods," Adams said with a wave, not even turning his head. "With magic to help, it'll be quick. You can go take care of other things for now."
He felt like he'd been dismissed…
"Alright, I'll be looking forward to it then!"
The culinary skills of a Hufflepuff were worth trusting. Considering his own cooking was barely edible, William decisively chose to trust Adams. Who knew, maybe he'd whip up some kind of masterpiece?
By the bonfire, the Centaurs were already in high spirits. Hagrid had brought a good amount of alcohol. Though the quality was average, there was more than enough to go around, and the Centaurs weren't picky. The roasted meat wasn't ready yet, but they had already cracked open several barrels.
‘I’ll go sit with Hagrid and the others for a bit,’ William thought, glancing around. He decided against sitting in the midst of the Centaurs—not because he held any prejudice against them, but because being near them made him unable to stop thinking about his former Fellow Prisoner…
William still remembered all that research concerning Centaurs quite clearly. Back in Azkaban, it had been a famous running joke. If he accidentally let something slip now, the situation would become truly awkward.
"William," Hagrid said, raising his bucket-sized cup. "Is Professor Adams experimenting with a new dish again?"
"Of course," William replied, taking a seat by the bonfire. He picked up a pre-skewered sausage lying nearby and began roasting it over the flames. "He loves cooking with herbs, especially incorporating them into food."
"Oh, right, I forgot to congratulate you, Mr. Potter. You played an excellent match yesterday," William said, turning his head to add his well wishes.
"Thank you, Professor."
Harry was very polite, but it was clear that having such a large group of Centaurs here to celebrate wasn't entirely to his liking. Compared to their conversation when William had caught him wandering around at night, the boy was much more reserved now.
‘Right, he was the one who reminded me about the ghost business last time. He said he was hearing strange voices. Was that Ginny’s doing, or was he having auditory hallucinations?’
"Mr. Potter, have you heard any of those strange voices you mentioned last time recently?"
"No, I haven't, Professor."
Harry was a little surprised but responded quickly.
"It's good that you haven't," William said, relieved. It was most likely Ginny, using some unknown secret passage.
Although he couldn't rule out the possibility that the boy had damaged his head when he crashed the car into a tree, since he wasn't hearing the voices anymore, he was probably fine.
"Yes, thank you, Professor."
Though William was still a bit curious about what kind of inspiration the girl who had jumped off the train at the start of school had received from the Diadem, he didn't ask about it in front of her two companions. It wouldn't be fair to the other two children if he brought it up; they would likely feel left out.
"William, William, the new dish is ready! Come and try it!"
Just as William was lost in thought, Adams approached with a large pot floating behind him. As he walked, he ladled something into the bowls of the Centaurs by the fire, much like a cheerful waiter serving complimentary drinks.
"What is it?"
"Soup. I tried stewing, roasting, steaming, and frying it, but in the end, I found this stuff is best suited for soup. It has a very tender texture when you drink it."
Fine, whatever you say. William took the bowl and took a small sip. Hmm, it tasted alright.
"I'm going to pass the rest out. You take your time. We have plenty of ingredients today," Adams said with a smug look on his face. "Now that it's been consumed, I'd like to see who can use it for any mischief!"
—
Diary
October 1st
A busy day. Once the alcohol started flowing, the Centaurs weren't so difficult to interact with. Controlling my emotions is far easier than I imagined. Those Centaurs are truly honest; they don't try to be clever when they drink. Although they have short tempers, they're quite pleasant to be around after a while.
Wait a minute—I have no intention of putting that report into practice!
October 2nd
The Daily Prophet released a special edition—the price was the same, but the newspaper was three times as thick.
I wonder how much the Ministry of Magic and the Board of Governors subsidized it. The production cost for this issue must be much higher than the selling price.
I heard there's another issue coming out in the evening. The Wizarding World is certainly well-informed…
…
October 6th
Adams was right. After it was consumed, no one could use it for any wrongdoing.
After that celebration, Hogwarts quickly entered a state of peace—or rather, it returned to how a school should be.
To be honest, I couldn't be more satisfied with such a happy week of classes.
The Fifth Year students are diligently doing their exam papers, the children in detention are quietly serving their detention, the Sixth Years are expanding their knowledge, and the Seventh Years are being guided toward their futures. Everything is going according to plan.
Even the uproar over the Diadem has died down. Although The Daily Prophet's special edition was a hot topic, the storm has finally passed. The students are no longer discussing obtaining the Diadem, and everything seems to have returned to normal.
October 7th, Overcast
I hate overcast days, but today is the second round of testing for the Diadem. Several professors are using it for the second time, and a few of the new professors have joined the experiment.
But the results were very unexpected. What was gained from wearing the Diadem a second time couldn't compare to the first at all. It was even more exaggerated than my initial guess. The Diadem merely provides inspiration to solve problems, a catalyst for accumulated knowledge. It's not nearly as magical as the legends passed down through the generations suggest. Perhaps it has been overly glorified in the stories told over time.
…
October 14th, Rain
I hate Britain. If there's anything more depressing than an overcast day, it has to be a rainy day. To make matters worse, it's been raining every single day for a week!
Chapter 168: Saddled with a Long-Term Debuff...
2022-07-14 Author: I'm Just a Pigeon
Looking at the full bucket of chicken blood, William was in a bit of a pickle. Pig's blood could be made into blood tofu with salt and water, but could chicken blood?
Besides, he had never actually tried any dishes made with chicken blood. He’d had duck blood in hot pot, but the two probably weren't interchangeable, right?
William thought for a moment and finally decided to give it a try. If it didn't work out, then so be it; the ingredients would be wasted. He couldn't just leave the blood lying around, letting it become a potential hazard, could he?
The theory was to mix salt and water in a certain ratio, then pour the chicken blood in.
After five or six failed attempts, William, relying on his experience from correcting mistakes in Potions, successfully produced his first batch of blood curd. After that, the rest of the bucket of blood was naturally turned into "tofu."
‘Now that it’s solidified into blocks, it should have lost its effect—unless that bizarre ritual requires hot pot ingredients.’
"Adams, recognize this?"
William showed off the block of blood. He remembered that many cultures don't consume animal blood.
"Blood sausage? It looks a bit like it, but without the casing—" Adams poked it uncertainly with his hand. "Eating solidified chicken blood directly? That's quite an idea. I could try cooking with it."
"Blood sausage?"
This time, it was William's turn to be surprised.
"Of course, German blood sausage. It's a very famous dish—" He took the blood tofu from William's hands. "Don't underestimate a Hufflepuff graduate!"
*Don't go adding strange new traits to Hufflepuff graduates!*
But Adams, busy researching a new dish, had no time for William's silent retort. He began pulling all sorts of things from his satchel—a cutting board, three sets of knives, four pots of different shapes, a mess of herbs William couldn't even identify, and a wide array of spice boxes…
"It'll be ready soon. I'm just going to try out a few cooking methods," Adams said with a wave, not even turning his head. "With magic to help, it'll be quick. You can go take care of other things for now."
He felt like he'd been dismissed…
"Alright, I'll be looking forward to it then!"
The culinary skills of a Hufflepuff were worth trusting. Considering his own cooking was barely edible, William decisively chose to trust Adams. Who knew, maybe he'd whip up some kind of masterpiece?
By the bonfire, the Centaurs were already in high spirits. Hagrid had brought a good amount of alcohol. Though the quality was average, there was more than enough to go around, and the Centaurs weren't picky. The roasted meat wasn't ready yet, but they had already cracked open several barrels.
‘I’ll go sit with Hagrid and the others for a bit,’ William thought, glancing around. He decided against sitting in the midst of the Centaurs—not because he held any prejudice against them, but because being near them made him unable to stop thinking about his former Fellow Prisoner…
William still remembered all that research concerning Centaurs quite clearly. Back in Azkaban, it had been a famous running joke. If he accidentally let something slip now, the situation would become truly awkward.
"William," Hagrid said, raising his bucket-sized cup. "Is Professor Adams experimenting with a new dish again?"
"Of course," William replied, taking a seat by the bonfire. He picked up a pre-skewered sausage lying nearby and began roasting it over the flames. "He loves cooking with herbs, especially incorporating them into food."
"Oh, right, I forgot to congratulate you, Mr. Potter. You played an excellent match yesterday," William said, turning his head to add his well wishes.
"Thank you, Professor."
Harry was very polite, but it was clear that having such a large group of Centaurs here to celebrate wasn't entirely to his liking. Compared to their conversation when William had caught him wandering around at night, the boy was much more reserved now.
‘Right, he was the one who reminded me about the ghost business last time. He said he was hearing strange voices. Was that Ginny’s doing, or was he having auditory hallucinations?’
"Mr. Potter, have you heard any of those strange voices you mentioned last time recently?"
"No, I haven't, Professor."
Harry was a little surprised but responded quickly.
"It's good that you haven't," William said, relieved. It was most likely Ginny, using some unknown secret passage.
Although he couldn't rule out the possibility that the boy had damaged his head when he crashed the car into a tree, since he wasn't hearing the voices anymore, he was probably fine.
"Yes, thank you, Professor."
Though William was still a bit curious about what kind of inspiration the girl who had jumped off the train at the start of school had received from the Diadem, he didn't ask about it in front of her two companions. It wouldn't be fair to the other two children if he brought it up; they would likely feel left out.
"William, William, the new dish is ready! Come and try it!"
Just as William was lost in thought, Adams approached with a large pot floating behind him. As he walked, he ladled something into the bowls of the Centaurs by the fire, much like a cheerful waiter serving complimentary drinks.
"What is it?"
"Soup. I tried stewing, roasting, steaming, and frying it, but in the end, I found this stuff is best suited for soup. It has a very tender texture when you drink it."
Fine, whatever you say. William took the bowl and took a small sip. Hmm, it tasted alright.
"I'm going to pass the rest out. You take your time. We have plenty of ingredients today," Adams said with a smug look on his face. "Now that it's been consumed, I'd like to see who can use it for any mischief!"
—
Diary
October 1st
A busy day. Once the alcohol started flowing, the Centaurs weren't so difficult to interact with. Controlling my emotions is far easier than I imagined. Those Centaurs are truly honest; they don't try to be clever when they drink. Although they have short tempers, they're quite pleasant to be around after a while.
Wait a minute—I have no intention of putting that report into practice!
October 2nd
The Daily Prophet released a special edition—the price was the same, but the newspaper was three times as thick.
I wonder how much the Ministry of Magic and the Board of Governors subsidized it. The production cost for this issue must be much higher than the selling price.
I heard there's another issue coming out in the evening. The Wizarding World is certainly well-informed…
…
October 6th
Adams was right. After it was consumed, no one could use it for any wrongdoing.
After that celebration, Hogwarts quickly entered a state of peace—or rather, it returned to how a school should be.
To be honest, I couldn't be more satisfied with such a happy week of classes.
The Fifth Year students are diligently doing their exam papers, the children in detention are quietly serving their detention, the Sixth Years are expanding their knowledge, and the Seventh Years are being guided toward their futures. Everything is going according to plan.
Even the uproar over the Diadem has died down. Although The Daily Prophet's special edition was a hot topic, the storm has finally passed. The students are no longer discussing obtaining the Diadem, and everything seems to have returned to normal.
October 7th, Overcast
I hate overcast days, but today is the second round of testing for the Diadem. Several professors are using it for the second time, and a few of the new professors have joined the experiment.
But the results were very unexpected. What was gained from wearing the Diadem a second time couldn't compare to the first at all. It was even more exaggerated than my initial guess. The Diadem merely provides inspiration to solve problems, a catalyst for accumulated knowledge. It's not nearly as magical as the legends passed down through the generations suggest. Perhaps it has been overly glorified in the stories told over time.
…
October 14th, Rain
I hate Britain. If there's anything more depressing than an overcast day, it has to be a rainy day. To make matters worse, it's been raining every single day for a week!
