HP: Alchemy? Nah, It's Crafting

Hogwarts 2nd-Floor Corridor

A massive, slimy, and slippery Basilisk slithered out of a broken pipe, its forked tongue flicking through the air.

Inside its head, resident tenant Tom Riddle swiftly locked onto a suitable prey.

A small wizard, clad in robes but sporting a pair of denim jeans underneath, was hopping along—a clear sign of a Muggle-born.

Tom had already made up his mind.

Sure, the Basilisk's deadly gaze had embarrassingly failed against a young wizard's glasses not long ago, but that kind of humiliation would not happen again.

Even if this unlucky little wizard was wearing glasses, no problem—he'd simply whip his tail and smash them into pieces. Then, he could use those shattered remains to mark his triumphant return.

Everything unfolded exactly as he had predicted.

The Muggle-born wizard was petrified on the spot.

Just as Tom prepared to swing the Basilisk's tail and finish the job—

BZZZZZT!

A sudden boom echoed through the corridor.

The petrified wizard vanished instantly, leaving not even a speck of dust behind.

"Ssssssss~" [What?!]

…

Alchemy Class

"Professor, where are your glasses?"

Fred Weasley looked at Kasenhis with confusion.

"They're right here, aren't they? Clipped onto my left eye socket."

Kasenhis responded nonchalantly.

"But Professor, didn't you say yesterday that when choosing between aesthetic appeal and one's own life, we should always choose life?"

Meyer, the first unfortunate student to receive a Binding Curse on his glasses, asked with a rather resentful expression.

"And who says I haven't chosen life?"

The next moment, a faint blue energy shield flickered in front of Kasenhis' eyes—appearing for just a second before vanishing.

"Professor, why don't we have that?"

"Oh, come on, even Dumbledore doesn't get this kind of luxury."

"Now, keep going with the next question… But, to lift your spirits a little—if your entire class scores E on the upcoming monthly exam, I'll…"

Kasenhis suddenly paused.

"Fred, close the back door. George, close the front door. I'll teach you something that's highly likely to get you sent to Azkaban."

(⓿_⓿)

The moment he said that, the entire classroom perked up, eyes gleaming with excitement.

Fred and George, meanwhile, immediately poked their heads outside to check the corridor. Once they confirmed no one was around, they firmly shut the doors.

"Professor, go ahead! We promise we won't tell anyone!" Fred said, barely containing his enthusiasm.

"Oh, please. Last time I said something like this, my lesson didn't even leave the room, and somehow the whole school knew about it."

Kasenhis didn't believe a single word from these kids.

"Alright, everyone stand up!"

With that, he personally went around confiscating every single magical recording device in the room—including, but not limited to: enchanted cameras, memory-keeping crystal balls, and every possible object capable of storing images or audio.

Once he finished securing the evidence, Kasenhis smiled mischievously as he stood at the podium.

"Have you all mastered the use of the Mystic Golem?"

"Yes!"

"Good. Now, I'm going to show you something absolutely insane—everyone, step back."

As he spoke, Kasenhis pulled out a massive supply of milk bottles and handed them out to every student in the classroom.

The young wizards watched with curiosity as their respected, virtuous, selfless, tirelessly devoted, and endlessly patient Professor Kasenhis pulled out a wailing, shrieking block that let out unsettling cries.

He placed the block in a T-shape in the center of the classroom.

Then—three Wither Skeleton skulls were carefully positioned on top.

In an instant, the soul sand structure transformed into a towering, jet-black skeletal monster—a floating, limb-less abomination consisting only of a spine and ribcage.

Its three skulls, gaping wide, seemed to be screaming in eerie, soundless agony.

Kasenhis quickly surrounded the Wither with a prison of obsidian and iron bars before turning back to face the wide-eyed students.

"This thing is called a Wither—cool, right?"

"WICKED!"

"Yeah, well, I'm not giving it to you. This thing is way too dangerous for you lot. Don't be fooled by how calmly it's floating around inside—once it fully awakens, the first thing it'll do is obliterate every living thing in the room."

"But I'm not showing you this so you can go around blowing yourselves up or start thinking you're some kind of Pokémon trainer. No, I'm showing you this because it can be used as a protective charm."

"Professor... Are you saying this thing can be made into... a protective charm?"

Angelina stared at the wailing, horrifying creature trapped behind Kasenhis, her worldview shattering as she asked in disbelief.

"Of course, I'm not telling you to use the full-sized version as a protective charm," Kasenhis replied calmly. "I'll be giving you miniature materials to create small-scale Withers. Because the raw materials will have insufficient energy, they won't awaken into full-fledged Withers."

"If they ever do wake up, the only way they can sustain themselves is by devouring various spiritual entities—things like Inferi, Dementors... even regular ghosts. So, I strongly recommend never lifting the restrictions on them."

"Their screams are inaudible to humans, but to spiritual creatures, it's as unbearable as the sound of nails on a chalkboard for us."

After finishing his explanation, Kasenhis took a tactical sip from his insulated cup, enjoying his oolong tea.

"And one last thing—don't even think about gathering all your materials together to create a full-sized Wither. Unless, of course, you'd like a group trip to Azkaban— with me included."

"Professor, then what about this big guy you just summoned…?" George suddenly raised his hand, pointing at the caged Wither.

"That's why I had you lock both doors. This lesson is strictly between us—no outsiders will ever know."

"Hmm… Well said. Very well said, indeed."

An old, familiar voice suddenly spoke from behind Kasenhis.

Dumbledore.

Moving unhurriedly, he placed a hand firmly on Kasenhis' shoulder.

"Kasenhis, come with me for a moment… But first, deal with this thing."

"Oh… of course… Would you like some tea? I don't mind sharing," Kasenhis said stiffly, turning to look at Dumbledore.

"Deal with that thing first."

"Right, right. Of course."

Kasenhis hurriedly constructed an obsidian cage, then sent a series of End Crystals flying into it in a neat row. Within moments, he reached inside and pulled out a glowing Nether Star from the remains of the Wither.

"Want it? It's a gift," he offered casually.

"No, thank you. You keep it," Dumbledore declined.

As the two of them left the classroom, Kasenhis didn't forget to quickly dismiss the students.

In the blink of an eye, they arrived at the Headmaster's office.

"What happened…? Oh…"

"Colin Creevey," Dumbledore explained. "His dormmates were in the middle of a wizard's chess match when his petrified body suddenly teleported onto his bed."

While Dumbledore spoke, Kasenhis already had a healing light in his hand, slowly channeling it into Colin's body.

Within moments, Colin was fully restored.

"Leave me you motherfu*king Snake!—Oh—Professor!!"

The first thing he saw was Kasenhis—not a terrifying giant snake—and he immediately let out a breath of relief.

The next second, he flung himself at Kasenhis, bawling his eyes out.

_______

(～￣▽￣)～Read two weeks ahead:

P@treon: Dragonel