Hogwarts: Don't call me the Staff Maker

Chapter 825 Before the Final Battle

While Siron and Slughorn were talking, the professors successfully completed the final finishing touches.

After all, the unicorn's soul is only targeted at dark magic, not Death Eaters, so it's inevitable that some will slip through the net.

However, after losing their numerical advantage, this group of Death Eaters was quickly brought under control by the professor and the Strikers, who confiscated their wands.

About ten minutes later, Professor McGonagall returned, her tense expression relaxing considerably, and even a hint of a smile could be seen.

"I don't know what to say, Siren." Her voice trembled slightly. "You saved us, all of us—"

"It's not that exaggerated, Professor," Celen shrugged. "We will win. I just brought the timeline forward a little, that's all."

"That's all—tsk, how modest. Fred, I'll definitely have to say that sometime in the future."

"Yes, George, me too."

Two identical faces emerged from behind Professor McGonagall. Fred and George winked at Celen and spoke in exaggerated tones in unison.

"What I mean is, this war isn't over yet," Siron said. "Don't forget Voldemort; compared to him, these Death Eaters are nothing."

Upon hearing Voldemort's name, everyone's relaxed state of mind immediately tightened again. Even Fred and George stopped smiling and couldn't help but lick their dry lips.

One 1

The atmosphere in Hogwarts Castle became oppressive again, as if it were surrounded by a dozen Dementors. The surroundings grew quieter and quieter, with no one speaking except for increasingly heavy breathing.

At that moment, Moody suddenly came out, and his wooden prosthetic leg made a dull thud as it stepped on the floor.

"No, Voldemort is a different matter," he said. "The Death Eaters were also part of the war, and the casualties they caused were far greater than Voldemort's alone—"

"From the start of the war until now, people have been sacrificing their lives every single moment. If it had ended even a second earlier, someone would have survived. That person could have been me, Minerva, Remus, Sirius, or those red-haired lads—"

Seeing Moody looking at him, Fred immediately grabbed his own neck, stuck out his tongue, rolled his eyes, and collapsed to the ground with a thud.

"In short," Moody snorted lightly, and continued, "everyone alive here should thank you, including me."

"I'm sorry," Siren said softly.

"You're the only one who doesn't need to say that!" Moody and the professors shook their heads repeatedly, and Slughorn even walked over to Siron and gently patted him on the shoulder.

"The magic of Felix Felicis lies in its ability to always find the right answer. If you drink Felix Felicis and want to end this war at the lowest possible cost, then you will definitely remember and use that unicorn magic at the most crucial moment."

Slughorn looked up at the people around him, paused for a moment, and continued, "In other words, the fact that you thought of unicorn magic at that time precisely means that it was the best, and possibly the only, opportunity. If it had been any earlier, something else might have happened—for example, the mysterious person personally killing the unicorn's soul."

"What?! Felix Felicis!" Fred stared wide-eyed at Siron in disbelief.

"By Merlin, you have such a treasure?!"

"Professor Slughorn gave it to me when I was in sixth grade," Celen explained. "It was a reward for outstanding students."

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd.

For most wizards, Felix Felicis is a legendary potion, something they've only ever glimpsed in the safe deep inside a potions shop.

Has anyone ever heard of this being given away as a classroom prize?

Fred and George were even more envious.

"Sixth grade—damn it, we'd already graduated by then!"

"Professor Slughorn, why couldn't you have come to Hogwarts sooner!"

"You're much better than that traitor Snape!"

The two squatted on the ground, scratching their hair and pounding the floor in frustration, while constantly complaining that former headmaster Dumbledore was a senile old man who hadn't invited Slughorn to Hogwarts sooner.

Slughorn didn't say a word, he just stood there smiling.

In fact, even if he had arrived at Hogwarts a few years earlier, Fred and George wouldn't have been able to get Felix Felicis. That's because it wasn't intended for ordinary students; it was a clever trick he devised to befriend Harry Potter.

To achieve his goal, he even specifically chose the most difficult potion course.

In Slughorn's view, it was virtually impossible for a sixth-year student to brew the perfect Living Hell Potion. If anyone could do it, it would only be Harry Potter, who inherited Lily's potion-making talent.

What Slughorn didn't expect was that another person in Gryffindor also succeeded that year.

Siren Ollivander.

Of course, although it was an unexpected situation, Slughorn still kept his promise and happily gave away the second bottle of precious Felix Felicis.

After all, a student who can brew the perfect Hellish Elixir in sixth grade is worth his investment.

As it turns out, this may have been the best decision he ever made in his life.

Slughorn remembered clearly that the Death Eaters had almost breached the students' spontaneously formed defenses. Just at the last moment, Siron appeared and dealt with the Death Eaters.

His name should be among the people Moody just mentioned.

"Perhaps the distribution of Felix Felicis can continue indefinitely," Slughorn thought to himself, but hesitated.

Felix Felicis is not a stimulant; its raw materials are expensive, and the brewing process is extremely complicated, taking at least six months. Moreover, any mistake can lead to failure. Even a potion master like him cannot guarantee success every time.

But if the students are truly outstanding, it seems worthwhile for him to work a little harder, and once those students use Felix Felicis later, they will definitely think of him again. This is far more useful than attending a hundred dinner parties.

Slughorn stood in the middle of the hallway, lost in thought, but the others wouldn't wait for him.

Just like Siren said, the war won't end because of the Death Eaters' defeat; there's still Voldemort.

After quickly cleaning up the battlefield, Professor McGonagall immediately led those who were still able to move away from the castle, preparing to face Voldemort in a final battle.

Charlie had a leg injury and walked with a limp, but he was the first to stand up after Professor McGonagall finished speaking.

Neville, his arm broken and bandaged, followed behind.

By now, no one was afraid of Voldemort's name anymore. Fred and George even seemed eager to try their luck as they walked out of the castle with Siron.