King of Lightning [HP FANFIC]

Unfortunately, the idea of extracting flesh and blood from enemies seemed somewhat naive, but soon Anduin came up with a new idea: being unable to cast a spell directly on a human body during combat doesn't mean the spell is useless.

If the spell is cast on the ground beneath the enemy's feet—extracting the soil under them—it could not only throw them off balance, but also instantly create a trap that hinders their movement. And perhaps . . . it could even be used that way.

Anduin fell into deep thought as he looked over Vanessa's work, completely absorbed in the academic world. In a sense, Anduin was a pure scholar, although his research often leaned toward combat tactics.

His many years of military service in his previous life, as well as his identity as a warrior, meant that whenever he encountered something new, the first thing he considered was whether it could be used as a weapon—and whether it held tactical or strategic value.

Professor Flitwick smiled with relief as he saw Anduin so focused; diligent students always earn a professor's favor.

Time passed quickly, and the Club meeting came to an end. All the students left the room in an orderly fashion, and Anduin followed Vanessa back to the Slytherin common room.

Curfew for older students could be extended until nine in the evening, but lower-year wizards like Anduin weren't allowed to wander the castle past eight, so Vanessa kindly walked him the whole way to keep him from being caught by Filch.

Today's visit to the Charms Club brought Anduin a great deal of insight. Once back in his dorm, he continued studying the Extraction Curse.

The Extraction Curse was a spell only taught starting in fourth year, and the fact that he had mastered it early—and even developed more advanced casting techniques—left him feeling particularly pleased.

. . .

The next day, during Potions class.

"Perfect, absolutely outstanding! I didn't expect Anduin and Vivian's group to successfully brew a proper Calming Potion on their very first attempt."

Professor Horace Slughorn, the Potions Master, praised their work without reservation—especially compared to other students' cauldrons, which were either belching foul black smoke or had been completely burnt through.

Vivian, standing nearby, could only smile awkwardly in response, as she had barely contributed to the brewing process.

Throughout the entire class, Vivian's role had been little more than passing over ingredients. For example, Anduin would say, "sun orchid root powder," and Vivian would hand it to him.

Once, she even gave him the wrong ingredient. If Anduin hadn't double-checked before using it, the potion would have been ruined—by her, the attentive observer.

Anduin accepted Professor Slughorn's praise calmly, nodding slightly to show his appreciation.

Brewing potions—an activity that required standardized, methodical craftsmanship—was quite straightforward for Anduin.

The recipe listed all the procedures and material specifications clearly, so all he had to do was follow the instructions.

He also realized that potion brewing wasn't all that different from cooking. The key lay in ensuring the ingredients were prepared to exact specifications, and that tasks like cutting, grinding, and soaking were carried out with precision.

Anduin's hands were incredibly steady. During the brewing process, he resembled a human machine—cutting ingredients into perfect sizes, adding them at the designated times, stirring when required, and adjusting the heat precisely at each stage. Everything flowed as naturally as water.

"Brewing potions is actually a lot like making soup," Anduin mused silently.

"The real difficulty lies in the ingredients. Even the same ingredient can vary in quality. Just like raisins—some are bone-dry, others still hold moisture. These are the subtle factors that truly affect the final product's quality".

Even though this was his first time brewing a potion, Anduin managed to gather and summarize a wealth of information. The Potions textbook, on the other hand, focused more on the properties of semi-processed ingredients, the problems that arise from using non-standard materials, and how to solve them.

Although Potions didn't fascinate him as much as Charms did, the brewing process kept his mind focused and tranquil. As a result, Anduin developed a strong interest in the subject as well.

"There must be plenty of old textbooks lying around in every Potions classroom by year. I'll find time to raid them".

Mischievous thoughts like that often crossed Anduin's mind. He had recently explored the upper-year classrooms for Defense Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration and had collected quite a few old books.

"Damn it, it's just some broken potion! What's he so smug about?" Sampel Travers grumbled as he stirred the black, bubbling mess in his cauldron, clearly having botched his attempt. He spoke with venom as he glared at Anduin, addressing Landel Rosier beside him.

"Easy, Travers. That guy won't stay arrogant for long. But let's not make a scene. That woman Vanessa is still watching,", Landel replied softly, glancing helplessly at the foul-smelling brew in front of them.

"Hmph. That damned woman Vanessa, she's completely disregarded Slytherin's nobility". Travers muttered bitterly. "Anduin better not get in our way, or he's going to regret it."

After saying that, Travers turned away from Anduin and shot a dark glare across the room toward Gryffindor's side, where Charles had also ruined a potion and was frantically trying to clean up the mess with his partner.

"My father and the others always said the MacKinnons got in our way. I heard Charles's aunt even joined the Order of the Phoenix. They're a pure-blood family, yet they still protect those filthy Muggle-borns. They haven't learned their lesson, even after one of them was crippled last time. Our mercy only goes so far."

Travers sneered at Rosier.

"Are you insane? Don't say stuff like that in here," Rosier warned in a tense whisper, nervously glancing around.

"What's there to be afraid of? Dumbledore's old. He can't stop us. When the Dark Lord defeats him and breaks through the Ministry, the future will belong to pure-blood families like ours. We'll find time to deal with that MacKinnon idiot."

Travers spoke with a cruel edge.

Rosier looked left and right, and seeing no one was listening, asked quietly:

"What are you planning to do? I heard Yaxley's preparing . . . ".

"Shh! Not here. We'll go over the details when we get back."

Travers shot Rosier a warning glare.

"Weren't you the one who brought it up first?" Rosier muttered, sounding vaguely innocent.