Chapter 233 232. Trials and News.

St. Mungo's Hospital. Several weeks later.

In a hospital ward, at the bedside of an elderly woman whose skin had a slightly unnatural greenish cast but whose expression was quite peaceful, stood two men: Severus, calmly leafing through a report on the trials of the refined serum, and Senior Healer Edward Wells, who had overseen those trials and provided the report.

The Head Healer himself couldn't be bothered to speak to Severus, and every time the young man visited, Barnett tried to avoid poking his head out of his office until he left. Occasionally, though, he still had to emerge to avoid arousing suspicion, though he always made sure to stay as far away from Severus as possible while tending to patients.

Thanks to this, the number of recovered patients during those three and a half weeks had risen by a full ten percent.

But although the old man's skills were unquestionable, Severus still considered him a genuine old bastard.

To the monotonous beeping of the cardiograph, Severus leafed through the report, occasionally frowning and nodding thoughtfully, as if dissatisfied with something.

"So, twenty-nine out of thirty were cured… and I was sure I'd calculated the dosage correctly." Unbuttoning the top button of his shirt, he turned back to the eighth patient, an elderly man of sixty who had volunteered to test the new serum and had not recovered from the virus.

"This is not your fault. Mr. Rogers was in the final stage of dragon pox, when no medicine could help anymore. Saving him was simply impossible," the healer tried to assure him, anxiety creeping into his voice. He thought Severus blamed himself for it, remembering that besides being cursed, the old man had also contracted the illness.

"No, the fault is entirely mine, because I was certain he could still be helped, and I was the one who decided to accept him." Flipping back to the thirtieth patient, the one whose ward they were now in, he put a checkmark in the right-hand corner and set the papers aside, glancing at a small black cube above which a transparent heart floated, flashing the number seventy-two. "Well, there's no use crying over spilled milk… yes, a terrible comparison, but nothing can be changed now. I'll pay the compensation myself."

"Wait! No, no! We'll handle this ourselves! The Head Healer has already given instructions about it! You've already helped us so much!" the man exclaimed, frantically waving his hands in front of him. "Although most of the equipment is prohibited, we were allowed to keep some of it, such as the cardiograph, which works better with our charms, and healers will now be able to react much faster and monitor patients' conditions better. On top of that, it will let us reduce the number of rounds and attend to others who also need help, not to mention the dragon pox serum…"

"No need. This was my mistake, and there's no need to thank me. I'm sure that in the future, someone else would have created all of this. As for the serum, I only took it on to defend my diploma." After noticing the gleam in the dark-haired man's eyes and his enigmatic smile, Severus added indifferently, "And don't look at me like that. I'm not trying to show my 'nobility' with this. I'm just speaking the truth." But his words didn't have the desired effect. On the contrary, the man seemed to radiate even more reverence for him, so Severus simply decided to wave it off. "Well then, my work here is finished. Thank you for your help. Send me the reports on each patient tomorrow, along with confirmation of the serum's effectiveness and the Chief Healer's seal. Also, just in case, keep them here for another month, and contact me immediately if anything happens."

"Y-yes! Of Course! And we thank you for everything, Mr. Prince!" The man nodded vigorously with a much brighter smile. In this short time, like several other healers, he had developed a genuine respect for Severus.

After all, Severus was not arrogant, haughty, or vain like most "young gentlemen" with pockets full of Galleons. He was quite sociable and friendly, and also possessed knowledge in many areas, which he proved through deeds, not empty words.

Right in front of him, Severus had been involved in preparing and adjusting all the artifacts and potions, many of which were certainly not taught in school, to say nothing of his knowledge and skills in healing magic and herbology, which had earned him recognition even from some of the old men who had seen Barnett's attitude toward him and were among his supporters.

For these reasons, Wells was very sorry to let such talent go, but he understood better than anyone that he was unlikely to be able to keep Severus at the hospital: not with a salary of a couple hundred Galleons a month, when Severus made over a thousand a day in his shop.

And he could see that the young man aimed higher than becoming a simple healer like him.

Taking the papers from the small table after visiting each volunteer, Severus said goodbye to Wells with a slight nod and left the office.

*I should have observed them personally, after all.* Moving through the sparsely populated corridors, he grumbled to himself. *But who could have known that the old man, who clearly wanted to live, would decide to end his own life… damn it.* *I had wanted to cure everyone and prove the serum's effectiveness by deliberately selecting wizards in various stages and forms of the disease.*

In the contract he had signed with each of the thirty wizards, a death benefit of fifteen thousand Galleons was specified.

Of course, Severus had been confident in the serum he had worked on for so long, so he had set that amount to find volunteers faster.

But he could never have expected something like this—that the old man would deliberately accelerate the disease's progression. The dosage he'd calculated simply couldn't help him, and an overdose carried a risk of complications, so Severus had tailored it to each patient after multiple examinations and tests.

He still didn't know why the old man had done it, though it no longer particularly mattered. After all, the man had chosen that fate himself. Perhaps he hadn't expected to survive and wanted to leave the Galleons to his family. That was probably the reason.

Severus could, of course, have contested the contract by pointing out that the illness had been deliberately accelerated, but he couldn't be bothered to deal with it. With millions in his account, fifteen thousand meant nothing anymore.

So he decided to turn a blind eye and treat the incident as a reminder and a lesson. Fifteen thousand was the price of one human life; in fact, he had even slightly underpaid, because someday such carelessness could cost him his own life.

*Although a sample of thirty is nothing, by the time of the defense, I'm certain even more wizards will have gone through this.* *And if the treatment course itself lasts exactly a week, then by the twenty-third at least another hundred or so people should have completed it.* *Those results will be far better, but still... he ruined things for me.* A flicker of irritation flitted through his mind, and he quickly suppressed it. *It doesn't matter; this is enough.* With those thoughts, he approached the burning fireplace and threw a pinch of Floo Powder into the flames. He stepped forward, the fire engulfed him, and he disappeared.

---

The day after he returned home, Senior Healer Edward Wells stopped by. He personally delivered all the necessary documents to Severus, thanked him once again for his work, and even offered him a position at the hospital after graduating from Hogwarts, promising him the title of Senior Healer within a year. Still, Wells understood that Severus was unlikely to accept, especially with his shop bringing in enormous profits.

But Severus promised to think about it, for he had indeed considered opening a small practice at some hospital, not now, but in five or six years, assuming the barrier in the Magical Jungle hadn't collapsed by then and the Devils hadn't broken free.

By evening, he decided to celebrate the occasion with everyone and even bought dragon meat for it, which delighted everyone, especially the magical creatures inhabiting his territory.

On Monday, he returned to Hogwarts and resumed his studies as if nothing had happened. Still, there was one thing he couldn't quite understand: the newspaper, or rather the front-page article about him and the refined serum. It was packed with such specific details that it seemed Rita Skeeter had personally participated in the trials and seen every document containing the results.

This left Severus slightly bewildered. *Where could she have learned all this, and in such detail, the very day after the trials ended?*

The article even had a section dedicated to the equipment, from the names to the functionality, and even the quantities transferred to Mungo's.

After reading it, Severus wanted to meet this journalist even more, while imagining the furious expression on Barnett's face. She hadn't hesitated to write about him either, and not in a flattering light. She virtually accused him of killing patients through the ban on new medical equipment that Severus had provided free of charge, of attempting to cover it up, and of planning to sell everything and pocket the Galleons, and thus of ordering all staff to remain silent.

All in all, the article was truly something. Severus mentally applauded her. *Not everyone could sling mud so beautifully, and even he had something to learn from Skeeter.*

It was precisely because of that article that, for several days, wizards besieged the hospital, demanding the return and proper use of the equipment, until Barnett finally caved. Even some aristocrats joined the crowd, and he simply had nothing to say in response. The fact that the equipment was based on analogues of Muggle technology didn't especially bother them; someday it might save a life, and that was far more valuable than their dislike of commoners.

Thanks to this, Severus gained another source of passive income alongside potions; roughly a hundred thousand Galleons were deposited into his account each month on average. Even now, he could be considered one of the richest wizards in the world, though still very far from someone like Flamel.

------------------------------------------

Chapters on Patreon progress: Currently at;

1. Harry Potter: Satan? Nah, Just My Family Crest = CHAPTER 410

2.Harry Potter: Beyond Good and Evil in the Wizarding World = CHAPTER 425

3.Harry Potter: Reborn as Draco Black = CHAPTER 220

support me on Patreon for instant access to the 120+ advance chapters: /redofic