HRA# Chapter 74: The Spirit Pact Potion and a Classroom Full of Creative Students

On one hand, those lacking patience were never suited to become shaman priests in the first place, so their early departure was a blessing in disguise. On the other hand… well, Harry had deliberately caused such a commotion earlier precisely to capture the attention of this group of students.

He wasn’t the least bit worried that they’d run off because of it. In fact, it conveniently helped him filter out a batch of individuals whose temperaments didn’t meet the mark.

Truth be told, even if some students passed the trial of the Spirit Pact Potion today, Harry would still set up various tests in future lessons to weed out those he deemed unfit to become shaman priests.

To prevent anyone from mastering the powers of a shaman priest and then using them for mischief, Harry had to proceed with caution.

“This is more or less the role of shaman priests in this world, as well as the general principles we need to follow in our actions,” Harry said. Given the limited time and this being the club’s first lesson, he didn’t delve too deeply into the subject.

It was already past four in the afternoon. The midday sun, once hanging high overhead, had softened into a gentle glow, casting an orange hue across the scene.

“I suppose, after hearing all this… you’re probably itching to give it a try, aren’t you?” Harry suddenly asked, glancing at the eager, sparkling eyes of the students before him.

“Yes!!!”

A loud, unified shout erupted from the crowd, voices blending together in perfect harmony.

Honestly, it was rare to see the four Houses this united.

“Then let’s get started,” Harry said with a smile. As he spoke, he picked up a bottle of potion from the table beside him. Truth be told, this potion had been drawing the students’ attention for quite a while now. It had been hauled in by Hagrid with a series of grunts and heaves when Harry first began the lesson.

There were even two crates of potions stacked next to the table, emphasizing abundance—like a promise of “plenty to go around.”

“Hold on, don’t get too excited. Do you remember what I just said?” Harry raised his voice slightly. “Only a tiny fraction of people are born favored by the elements and the myriad spirits. For those rare few, they can effortlessly draw power from the elements and spirits, communicating with them freely. It’s an incredibly rare gift.”

“Professor Harry! Not even you can do it?” a student suddenly called out.

“No, not even me,” Harry replied, shaking his head. “But I do have a little trick to share with you. If you’ve already established a connection with the elements and can communicate with them properly, the magic inherent in wizards is something the elements quite enjoy. If you can infuse a bit of wizarding magic into your rituals or spellcasting, it’ll make things twice as effective with half the effort.”

“For the vast majority of us, though, the Spirit Pact Potion is the essential bridge to stepping onto the path of the shaman,” Harry said, holding up the dark brown bottle in his hand so even the students in the back could see. “The so-called ‘Spirit Pact’ is a potion that forges a connection between our minds and the elements of nature.”

“This potion isn’t just made from a blend of herbs that help us clear our minds and focus our spirits. It’s infused with magic during its creation, allowing those who’ve opened the door to their hearts to see elements invisible to ordinary people and establish a bond with them. Once that bond is formed, it’s permanent.”

“Each type of Spirit Pact Potion corresponds to a different element. To connect with different elements, you’ll need to drink the specific potion tied to that element. For example, these potions beside me right now—they’re all Earth Spirit Pact Potions.”

“Can I try the one for the fire element, Professor Harry?” Fred suddenly stood up and shouted.

“For fiery Gryffindors like us, it’s got to be the fire element or nothing!” George chimed in, backing up his twin.

Their words pretty much summed up the collective sentiment of Gryffindor House. The division into four Houses naturally led students to gravitate toward the elements that mirrored their own traits.

“Unfortunately, starting with the fire element might be a bit too much for you,” Harry said with a playful grin. “I’d rather not have you lot sent to the hospital wing reeking of roast meat. Madam Pomfrey would have my head.”

The students burst into laughter.

“Hey, Fred! How many Knuts to get a taste of your roast?” someone shouted.

“Damn it! Knuts? At least say a few Galleons!” Fred shot back.

“What, a few Galleons for something without even seasoning? What kind of scam is that?”

“Hahahahaha!”

“…”

Leave it to the Weasley twins and their crew—even their jokes had a heavier edge than most.

Shaking his head, Harry steered clear of the cannibalistic banter and pressed on.

“For a novice shaman priest, starting with the earth element is the easiest way to establish a connection. Among the four great elements, earth is generally the calmest and most stable.”

“But I also need to warn you upfront,” Harry continued, his tone growing serious. “Not everyone who drinks the Spirit Pact Potion will be able to see the spirits of the elements. That’s exactly why I said at the start of this lesson that nine out of ten of you won’t return here. I hope you can face this reality with a level head. Maintaining a calm and balanced mindset actually makes it easier to earn the elements’ favor.”

“To be honest, on your journey to becoming a shaman priest, the easiest part is probably drinking the potion and seeing the elements,” Harry said with a sigh. “Do you remember what I said at the beginning about the state of the elements in this world?”

“The elements are asleep?” a student answered instinctively.

It was as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped over them. The excitement that had flared up when Harry first revealed the Spirit Pact Potion fizzled out in an instant as the realization sank in.

“Yes, the elements are asleep,” Harry confirmed. “I’ve already told you that the relationship between a shaman priest and the elements is one of equality. And since it’s equal, when a shaman priest seeks to connect with the elements, the elements have every right to refuse that connection.”

“If the elements were highly active and able to communicate freely, it’d be different. You could rely on your eloquence and charm to persuade them and forge a bond. But the elements of this world have fallen into a near-dormant state.”

“They’re incredibly weak and lack vitality. They can’t even initiate direct communication with people—only reacting instinctively. So, after drinking the potion, your task is to ensure that the elements’ instincts don’t reject you, but instead accept you. That’s how you’ll establish a connection.”

“Got it!” Ron, suddenly fired up for reasons unknown, grabbed a bottle of Earth Spirit Pact Potion—one Harry had handed out to his close friends earlier—and chugged it down in one go.

Closing his eyes, Ron paused for a few seconds, then opened them again, glancing around.

“Nothing?” Ron’s face fell with disappointment. “Do I not have the talent, Harry?”

He didn’t see a trace of any earth element spirits—just the people around him, including a few professors staring at him, which made him instantly nervous.

“What’s the rush?” Harry said, exasperated. “I didn’t even say you could drink it yet. The Spirit Pact Potion only works in a sacred place—nowhere else will do. You’ll need to drink another one later. Oh, and you’re probably in for a rough night with your stomach.”

“Huh? What—” Ron’s face turned green.

Ron’s blunder managed to lighten the mood a little for the students, who’d just learned how tough this was going to be—but only slightly.

Under Harry’s guidance, the professors and students followed him away from the Black Lake, heading toward the mountains bordering Hogwarts. They eventually arrived at an area of exposed grayish-white rock.

Many students had flown over this spot on broomsticks during their free time, but returning today, they found it transformed beyond recognition.

The gray-white rocks were now encircled with rows of small flags, each adorned with incomprehensible writing.

But more striking than the flags were the towering totems—five in total. Four of them were roughly the same height and thickness, their surfaces painted in red, blue, white, and the natural wood grain. A narrower band ran around their middles, and the upper halves clearly depicted a carved cow, flanked by horn-like protrusions on either side.

Then there was the fifth totem, taller and more imposing, standing at the very center of the clearing. The other four shorter totems surrounded it in a square, as if paying homage to its presence.

The colors smeared across the patterns on this main totem were no different from those on the other four totems, but this one was clearly composed of three distinct sections. The lowest segment still took the form of a bull, while the middle one resembled an eagle. As for the topmost part of the totem, there sat a wooden windmill, spinning slowly at this moment in the chill November breeze.

These totems were all crafted by Harry during this period, carved from suitable wood he’d selected in the Forbidden Forest. They adhered to the style of the Tauren shaman priests’ lineage, reflecting the faith of the shaman priests as well.

Even the surrounding upright stones had been meticulously arranged, transforming this place into an altar belonging to a shaman priest.

“To be honest, Harry,” Dumbledore said, turning his head with a playful smile as he eyed the prominent bull horns adorning the totem, “no wonder you keep calling yourself a Tauren. I think I’m starting to get it now.”

It wasn’t hard to figure out, really—Harry had never tried to hide or conceal anything.

“Thank you very much, Headmaster Dumbledore,” Harry said, bowing once more after coming to a stop. “Thank you for your broad-mindedness in allowing me to establish a shaman altar on Hogwarts’ grounds. May the Earth Mother bless you.”

Though Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall had heard Harry invoke the Earth Mother’s name in blessings several times before, it wasn’t until today—when Harry explained the history of the shaman priests—that they finally understood what this “Earth Mother” was all about. Naturally, the discussion couldn’t avoid mentioning the Earth Mother and the Sky Father, two figures who profoundly influenced the Tauren shaman priests.

“I’m delighted to see magic flourishing, Harry,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “Especially after hearing your first lesson.”

Though he remained skeptical about Harry’s claim that the elements would naturally revive centuries from now—such a grand assertion would require more evidence—Dumbledore was willing to give it a chance based on everything Harry had demonstrated so far. After all, the shifts in wizarding society Harry spoke of weren’t lies.

In fact, decades ago, Dumbledore and a friend of his had foreseen these very things. Much like Harry today, they too had once worked toward changing the entire wizarding world. But that was all ancient history now.

“Can we drink the Spirit Pact potion now, Professor Harry?” an eager student called out. These students had been on edge the whole way here, unsure if they’d be among the one in ten who’d make it into the Shaman Club. If they’d never attended this class or learned about the shaman priests, it might’ve been easier to let it go.

But having witnessed the immense elemental power Harry displayed—a strength most wizards could never hope to possess in a lifetime—and having learned information they’d never considered before, like the gradual decline of wizarding society…

Truth be told, many students felt a heavy weight in their hearts back then. This wasn’t some distant, irrelevant matter—it concerned them directly, and even their future descendants. That’s why, upon learning that shaman priests could reverse this decline, a sense of historical mission unlike anything they’d ever felt before ignited within them.

For these young students, that sense of purpose filled them with boundless energy—though most wouldn’t manage to sustain it for more than three days.

But at least in this moment, none of them wanted to be the one left behind due to a lack of talent, unable to shoulder this mission.

Turning around, Harry saw that everyone now held a bottle of the Earth Spirit Pact potion in their hands—even Dumbledore and the other professors were no exception. Even Quirrell had one.

“Drink,” Harry said aloud. “Then search—in this very area, seek out the presence of the elements. Feel their breath, earn their trust—drink.”

In the next moment, everyone downed the Earth Spirit Pact in near-identical motions, a chorus of gulping sounds filling the air.

At this stage of the lesson, the rest was up to talent and luck. Even Harry had no tricks left to help his friends.

A fire blazed to life in front of the main totem as Harry chanted a prayer to the elements in the Tauren tongue. After a long while, he turned around—and was met with a scene that left him torn between laughter and tears.

He knew Hogwarts students were full of imagination and initiative, but he hadn’t expected them to take it this far in their attempts to connect with the elements.

The ones lying flat on their backs or face-down with arms and legs spread out in a “大” shape were the tamest of the bunch—it looked almost like a crime scene at a glance. Others pressed themselves against the stones as if curing themselves into wind-dried bacon, nearly making Harry burst out laughing.

Compared to those, the truly bizarre ones stood out even more. Harry spotted a patch of ground where seven or eight heads sprouted neatly in a row, shining brightly like they’d grown straight out of the earth. At first glance, it was downright eerie, as if someone had buried Hogwarts students alive.

“…This isn’t your idea again, is it?” Harry said, struggling to keep a straight face as he hurried over to the pile of heads. “Fred?”

“Oh, Harry, you seem to have some prejudice against us… By the way, I’m George,” the red-haired boy replied with a deadpan expression.

“No interruptions—and you’re definitely Fred,” Harry shot back, exasperated. “Get out of there. Aren’t you afraid someone might not see you and accidentally kick your heads off?”

“But Professor Harry, I think this position gets us closer to the Soul of the Earth!” another student, buried up to his neck beside Fred, chimed in excitedly. “Look, no one’s closer to the earth than us, right? The elements will be so pleased when they see this!”

“Forget the fact that the elements don’t even have conscious awareness yet—even if they did see this, they’d just think you lot were a bunch of lunatics and steer clear of idiots,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. “This is the first time I’ve seen anyone try to become a shaman priest by burying themselves in the dirt.”

Even as he spoke, Harry couldn’t help but laugh.

“Fine, if you say so,” Fred sighed with mock regret. “By the way, Harry, you’ve never once mixed me up with George. Is that a shaman priest ability too?”

“Exactly,” Harry nodded. “If you become a proper shaman priest, you’ll gain that ability too. In our eyes, every soul is unique—even twins who grew up together with perfect harmony.”

Fred let out a dramatic sigh at his failed prank attempt.

Summoning the earth elements to unearth this gang of buried goofballs like some kind of firefighter, Harry quickly moved on to the next group.

Hogwarts students had boundless imagination, and magic let them turn that imagination into reality.

What made it even more chaotic was that shamanism was entirely new, so even the professors on-site didn’t know if these attempts were valid—or whether they should intervene. When Fred and his crew buried themselves, Professor Flitwick had even cheerfully lent a hand.

But you had to admit, it was pretty entertaining.

Dumbledore, sitting cross-legged in a hollow, looked up at Professor McGonagall standing above him. “Won’t you give it a try, Minerva? I think this might actually work.”