Wolfsbane Potion Harry Potter Novels & Stories

I’ve never wanted to be a witch more than I wanted at that moment. Imagine, Felyndra, a powerful witch that could turn people into poops. And the hardest part of breaking the bond came. Getting Nightbane to drink from the soup at the same time as me.

The view of the trees and drones that circled above us was getting less clear by the second. Denzel and the others started laughing. “Liquid Silver Wolfsbane…” Denzel uttered. “One of the odorless poisons, dangerous to werewolves. The moment you inhale even a tiny whiff, it shuts down your senses and nervous system.” “Don’t worry,” Xavier snickered. “It won’t kill you. It will just incapacitate you for an hour or more, depending on your wolf’s strength. I’m pretty sure by the time you recover…you’d be the loser.”

Not in a world where wolves can smell lies and fear. Right? Melody’s notes could be just that. Notes. Medical knowledge. She was always reading, always studying symptoms. Wolfsbane is a known toxin; of course she’d write about it. And the bitter drink… maybe it’s just herbs. Maybe it’s really for my “growing pains.” Maybe it’s to help my wolf wake up, not suppress it. I cling to those maybes like they’re oxygen. Because the alternative is too ugly to hold. Dad clears his throat. “Abby.”

My vision blurred as the pain intensified, and I desperately tried to hold on to consciousness, knowing that this was just the beginning of my agonizing ordeal. Wolfsbane. It is like creole poison for our kind. It is a deadly substance that causes excruciating pain and suffering for those who possess supernatural abilities like ours. And it has been injected into my veins, slowly coursing through my body, marking the beginning of my agonizing ordeal.

“’Why does it hurt so much! Why do you have wolfsbane in you?’ What is he talking about?” “Oh, that’s nothing,” I grabbed my phone back from her. “She put her hands on her hips. “It’s obviously not nothing. Why did he think you had wolfsbane in you? Did you actually…?” “It’s not a big deal,” I replied. “I’m fine now.” “Dude! Wolfsbane? Wolfsbane!” She raised her voice. “You mean the only poison known to kill werewolves? The shit that’s a death sentence if any pack member’s found in possession of it?”

But Nero seems to be ready, because he sets the crossbow aside and takes a syringe full of purplish liquid from his pocket and stabs it on my growing neck. Wolfsbane. The potion that weakens Wolf Spirits. The effect is instantaneous. My body shrinks into its human form, and I can feel Lycus retreating. I don’t think he’s hurt in any way, but I can feel his wariness seeping through my own skin. “Where did you get that?” I ask Nero. “That’s . . . really rare.”

“Is there anything else that makes you so assured that Rune was behind all this?” He thought about the question, and after some time, looked at me with a glint in his eyes. “Wolfsbane,” he responded. The court gasped at the mention of the forbidden potion among werewolves. I was done for. How?? “What about this wolfsbane?” the judge asked, obviously appalled at the mention of wolfsbane. “He has used it before, and it was the same essence used to weaken me before I was poisoned with silver.” The court became rowdy and noisy, with curses being hurled at me from all angles.

“I see, since you do not intend to disclose your motive. You leave me no choice. If you were hoping for a quick death, you won't be getting it here.” I heard a shuffle before he spoke again. “You know what this is, don't you?” I looked up, and he was holding a transparent sachet in his hand. I felt goosebumps all over me as I recognized the contents immediately; it was Wolfsbane. It was the cruelest form of punishment; it causes blinding pain when ingested or weakens werewolves once it gets on their skin. In large doses, it can lead to excruciatingly painful death.

’ Oliver looked up suspiciously at the evil enchantress that lives by the boundary of their pack as he held the small bottle containing a silver-like liquid inside. The evil enchantress beamed at her while laying her palm in front of him. He squinted his eyes one at her one more time before sighing and taking three syringes of wolfs bane on her palm. He watched the enchantress stared at them with fascination before carefully placing them on a container. Wolfs banes are really rare to come by. Ever since the wolves in Wolfpoint took over the government, these items had been banned for usage. But the enchantresses are going crazy about this stuff.

I roar at the maids. An unholy anger floods me as I look at Cynthia’s nearly-unconscious body in the chair, sprawled out pathetically. I recognize the shape of the empty bottle in one of the maid’s hands, the curve of its rim. The bottle is filled with an evil-looking shimmery purple liquid. Only wolfsbane potions are stored in bottles like those. Wolfsbane. They were going to make Cynthia drink wolfsbane.