HP: Spirit Talker

The wave is several meters away. Hoshino lifts his left arm with an open hand toward the wave and makes a full turn on the spot. All around him, strips of paper hang in the air, and one directly in front of his hand.

A flash of yellow light and a strong gust of wind scattered another part of the wave, but a second later it finally caught up with the target, covering several dozen square meters with a dense veil above the average human height.

The man's head was covered. There was silence for a while, everyone keeping their eyes on where the Japanese was. Taking advantage of the pause, the potion master tipped a few more vials into his mouth with shaky hands, then wiped his sweaty face with a handkerchief.

At the very edge of the cloud, wizards and sorcerers could see the effect of the formation: there was no trace of grass, the stones had taken on the most unexpected colors, and it was as if they and the ground had melted. Everyone understood what would happen to a person exposed to such an effect. But Snape, as a rather experienced fighter, did not relax, especially since the "Dead Dragon's Breath" should dissipate in a few minutes, since it was not applied in some pit/gorge, but in the open.

On the other hand, only the strongest defenses could hold the Breath, and using a defense-killing artifact should have tipped the odds in the right direction. The problem, however, was that the poison cloud itself emitted a glow and was sweet-smelling, making it virtually impossible to observe the result. But listening to the sensitive and relatively healthy paranoia, the potionist updated the battle bundle of spells, charms, and curses in his head.

Only a handful of those present managed to understand anything, and Snape was not one of them. A pillar of blue light connected the center of the swirling dirty-yellow cloud with the gray wisps and the Hogwarts Potions Professor.

The shields of the grumpy man in black flared up all at once, it seemed as if all the natural elements had gathered in the blue beam, and the pressure was so great that the man couldn't move from his seat at will.

Only after a few seconds did the people see that the beam was actually a stream of flame, around which a poisonous cloud began to swirl rapidly, drawing in and burning without a trace. A short time later, the Japanese man appeared. Hoshino Sora stood with a wand outstretched, attached to the top of a rectangle of paper, surrounded on four sides by the same paper, and around the figure of the man, at a distance of half a meter, circled a dozen more papers, rhythmically pulsing green light.

The central talisman was the source of the strange flame. A second, two, three, and the outer shield, translucent silver, shattered with a loud sound of breaking glass, followed by the greenish and yellow shields.

The potionist's face was extremely tense and his arms reached forward, pouring more and more power into the ruby shield, beads of sweat covering his face again. A moment later, the cloud was completely destroyed, the fire stream disintegrated into flames, and the five talismans disintegrated.

 Those with the keenest eyes can see the Potion Master drinking potion again, with crumbs falling from his hair to his shoulders — crumbs that have been squeezed into dry diamond earrings, an extremely rare and expensive pleasure. Now, among those present, those who understood the value of such things and noticed their traces, understood why the potion master did not become greedy and use such a thing for the case.