"Ron was also infected. This is not a good thing. Together with Neville and the six people in the stands, a total of eight people have been infected."

Above Hogwarts, the bat incarnation of Meka Anders looked back at the bathroom on the ground that had become smaller and frowned.

He knew that the number would increase.

With the speed of infection of the toxin of the leopard, it should have reached at least dozens of people.

If the Quidditch game ended later, the number would probably continue to rise. Half an hour later, the consequences would be disastrous.

"But fortunately, the blood of the 'Golden Snitch' did not explode. Otherwise, according to what Boguna said, most of the people in Hogwarts would have to go to the hospital... Well, it is not ruled out that he lied to save his life."

Meka quickly relaxed his brows. He remembered the figure he saw in the bathroom and smiled:

"What I didn't expect was that Sirius would choose to expose himself at this time... Well, it seems that his head, which was overwhelmed by hatred, has calmed down a little."

"And Ron probably felt incredible that the murderer in the newspaper would choose to save his life at this time, even at the risk of infection... Of course, Sirius might not know that he was poisoned."

"But from this, it can be seen that Sirius did not enter the wrong college. He is indeed a graduate of Gryffindor."

He suddenly paused and saw two figures on the ground running hurriedly towards the Quidditch field.

"It's Harry and Hermione..."

"Are they probably looking for Ron?"

He thought about it, turned around and fell to the ground, and changed back to his own appearance.

After tidying up his clothes, he walked along the path towards Harry and the others.

Not long after, Harry and Hermione met Meka on the way. Following Meka's advice, the three of them came to the entrance of the school hospital.

As soon as they arrived, they saw two people lying unconscious at the entrance.

“Ron?!” Hermione was shocked and covered her mouth fiercely.

“And Neville…” Harry looked grim.

Meka looked at the blood at the corners of Ron and Neville’s mouths, took out a spare mask and put it on, and walked into the school hospital.

After a while, he brought Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout.

“Two more patients…” Professor McGonagall had a haze in her eyes, and she ordered:

“Professor Sprout, help out.”

“As for the three of you…” She looked at Meka and the other two,

“Go back to the Gryffindor dormitory immediately, and don’t let me see the three of you appear anywhere else.”

In the evening, many people came to St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Injuries and Diseases, and brought eleven bottles of special antidote potions.

Professor McGonagall welcomed them into the school hospital. Soon, with the help of these people, all the close contacts of the poisoned were checked, and a total of twenty-one people were infected with the toxin.

The number of infected people, including Neville and Ron, reached twenty-nine.

At eight o'clock in the evening, the close contacts of the twenty-one people who were subsequently diagnosed were checked again, which increased the number of infected people by fourteen again, soaring to forty-three.

After receiving this news, Professor McGonagall frowned.

She came out of the school hospital and hurried to Professor Snape. When she looked at the table, there were two more bottles of special antidote.

But these two bottles, including the five bottles in the afternoon, plus the eleven bottles brought by St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Injuries and Maladies, were only eighteen bottles, and the number of infected people was always forty-three, and there was still a full twenty-five bottles missing!

It was troublesome. If they couldn't get out, many children would have to sit and wait for death... Her heart sank.

"How much is missing?" Professor Dumbledore also rushed over at this time.

Professor McGonagall looked at him and replied:

"Twenty-five bottles, Professor Dumbledore. In addition, the children can only last for three more days after treatment."

Professor Dumbledore frowned: "It's so short... Can St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries help to make it?"

Professor McGonagall took a deep breath: "Professor, I asked, they said that they may not have enough manpower, and they can only make nine more bottles in three days. This potion is difficult to make and the failure rate is very high."

Professor Dumbledore pondered for a while and looked at Professor Snape: "Severus, can sixteen bottles be made in three days?"

Professor McGonagall locked her eyes on Professor Snape's face, hoping to hear a positive answer from him.

Otherwise... she thought of the children vomiting blood and suffering in the hospital beds, and couldn't help but wrinkled her forehead.

Professor Snape frowned, as if thinking. After a while, he shook his head:

"No, even if I don't rest day and night, I can only get out ten bottles at most."

Do we really have to give up some children... Professor McGonagall lowered her eyes, her heart felt heavy, as if a stone was pressing on her.

She looked at Snape again and again, wanting to say something, but in the end she didn't speak.

"If we invite people from the Potion Guild..." Professor Dumbledore asked again, "Can we fill this gap?"

"As far as I know." Professor Snape glanced at him,

"The potion masters of the Potion Guild have recently carried out research and exchange activities in the American magic world. The activities are in a closed magic laboratory. The whole process will last for seven days, and all communication from the outside world is rejected."

Professor McGonagall heard this, her eyes lit up: "If Professor Dumbledore writes..."

"Of course they have to give Professor Dumbledore face." Professor Snape said, changing the subject.

"But the problem is that the Minister of Magic also went there. I believe that after he finds out about this, he will communicate with the board of directors of Hogwarts and blame Professor Dumbledore for this matter and remove him from the position of principal..."

Professor McGonagall was startled for a moment, and her face darkened.

Professor Dumbledore pondered: "My position is nothing compared to the children, and this is my dereliction of duty. I will write a letter soon..."

Professor Snape thought for a while and said, "It doesn't have to be that way."

He looked at the two of them:

“If you trust me, you can ask my student Meka Anders to come over.

He is already a potion master and has outstanding potion talent. Even in refining potions of this difficulty, his success rate should be about the same as mine..."

Junior Meka Anders? ! ...Professor McGonagall was stunned.

Not much different from Professor Snape, that is to say, his level is at least an extremely good Potion Master, maybe even close to reaching the Potions Master level?

But didn't he just become a potion apprentice two years ago? How could any wizard make such rapid progress in potions? It was simply unheard of.

Is this really reliable? After all, so many lives are at stake... She glanced at Professor Snape's serious expression, then looked at Professor Dumbledore, and saw surprise in Professor Dumbledore's eyes. Come on look.

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