Gathering Materials
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He pointed at the first book from top to bottom, his voice calm but firm as he began to explain:
"This book uses geographic determinism to thoroughly dismantle the myth of racial superiority." — [Guns, Germs, and Steel] by Jared Diamond
"This one reveals how fictional narratives are used to sustain rigid class hierarchies. You could think of it as a blueprint for how the ideology of blood purity was constructed." — [Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind] by Yuval Noah Harari.
"This book draws on the history of science to show one thing very clearly: real revolutions in knowledge often come from heretics. And this holds just as true in the wizarding world. For example, it's usually the half-blood wizards who've pushed the boundaries of magical progress." — [Born to Rebel] by Frank Sulloway.
"This one uses modern genetics to prove that so-called noble bloodlines have no meaningful genetic distinction. In simple terms, you and the so-called 'mudbloods' you keep sneering at—your DNA is 99.9% identical." — [The Great Gene] by Yin Ye.
"This book analyzes how eugenics has been weaponized by racist ideologies. You can think of it as a direct parallel to the Pureblood Movement in the wizarding world." — [The Rupture of the Pseudo-Saint] by David Wilson.
"This one deconstructs bloodline worship from an evolutionary standpoint. Your genes couldn't care less whether your surname is Malfoy or Weasley. Biology doesn't recognize social pedigree." — [The Selfish Gene] by Richard Dawkins.
"This book exposes the true nature of bloodline classifications. At their core, they're nothing more than tools used by those in power to maintain control." — [Discipline and Punish] by Michel Foucault.
"This book…"
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"Professor, could you slow down a bit?" Malfoy murmured, his voice unusually quiet. "I can't keep up…"
"That's all right…" Sargeras replied, expression utterly impassive. "Your detention assignment will be to copy out every single one of these books by hand. By the time you've finished, I imagine you'll have no trouble remembering."
Malfoy stared at him, completely dumbfounded.
Sargeras figured that once the boy had finished transcribing all those books from start to finish, he might finally come to understand one fundamental truth: what Pureblood families have always fought to protect was never their bloodline, but rather the privileges that came with it.
And once Draco realized that behind the glory of Pureblood heritage lay nothing more than cold, calculated self-interest, then that thin layer of gilded myth would naturally begin to peel away.
"Noctis, keep your eyes on him," Sargeras ordered the raven perched on the windowsill. "Let him go at eleven o'clock."
"Kraaa—!"
The raven let out a harsh caw in reply, and Draco Malfoy instinctively shrank back, drawing his neck in like a startled bird. His face had gone even paler than his platinum blond hair.
"I-it's not going to peck out my eyes, is it?"
"Don't worry… it only eats the eyes of people who slack off," Sargeras said, casting him a sidelong glance. His voice was calm and unreadable, as if he were stating a mundane fact. "So I suggest you take this seriously… and preferably don't skip a single punctuation mark."
With that, he turned and walked away without another glance, his robe trailing slightly as he vanished down the corridor.
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"Venom of the Acromantula… powdered moonstone… sap from the Vampiric vegetation… Merperson scales… whiskers from a Matagot cat… fingernails from a Murtlap… North American Mountain Tyrannosaurus tartar…"
At the line marked 'North American Mountain Tyrannosaurus tartar,' Sargeras paused for a moment, his fingertip hovering just above the words. He could almost imagine the person who had written this recipe, hiding in some musty corner and chuckling to themselves in amusement.
But alchemy was a craft both intricate and profound, and no matter how many times he suspected that some of these ingredients were included purely as a joke, he dared not play the fool and omit anything without certainty.
By the time Sargeras arrived at Hagrid's hut, the half-giant was outside, tending to his enormous pumpkins and brushing off pests with practiced care.
"Hello, Hagrid!"
"Well, howdy there, Professor Greengrass!" the half-giant greeted him warmly, carefully prodding the base of a pumpkin vine with what looked like a tiny trowel — in his hands, anyway.
"Are yeh here for them Flobberworm?"
Sargeras shook his head slightly. "Not today. I came to look for a few magical ingredients. Are you busy at the moment?"
"Ah, just takin' care o' me pumpkins, yeh know? Halloween's comin' up soon..." Hagrid said with a warm, sheepish grin. "Figured I'd carve a few jack-o'-lanterns to put around the castle when the time comes."
Sargeras nodded slightly, then reached out and tapped the fence with his fingers. In that instant, the tangled vines sprawling all over the pumpkin patch suddenly straightened out, rearranging themselves in neat rows. A burst of soft spelllight swept across the ground, sending every crawling bug and worm flying through the air… flung far away into the Forbidden Forest in a shimmering arc.
"Oh! Thank yeh, Professor! That's real kind of yeh!"
Sargeras offered a brief smile without replying. Hagrid, however, shifted awkwardly, his large hands fidgeting at his sides. After a moment of hesitation, he leaned in a little and lowered his voice.
"I heard… you and Professor Dumbledore had a bit of a... well…"
"It's already behind us," Sargeras said with a calm smile, his tone as natural as a gentle breeze. "All in the past now."
"Aye, I thought as much…" Hagrid's face broke into a hearty grin again, bright and full of relief. "Must be them young students again, spreadin' rumors like wildfire…"
He stepped out of the pumpkin patch, brushing some leaves from his coat, and asked, "So… what can I help yeh find today?"
Sargeras handed over a roll of parchment, a detailed list already written on it. Hagrid quickly wiped his hands on his coat before taking the list — gingerly pinching it between two thick fingers like it might tear from a rough touch.
"Hmm... this one I've got… this one, too, I think… can't quite remember this one—I'll have to check… this I don't have, though I've always fancied keepin' one…"
Sargeras waited patiently as the half-giant muttered to himself, going over the list item by item. Finally, Hagrid turned and headed into his wooden hut. After a fair bit of rummaging, he emerged again, clutching several dusty jars and bottles he'd managed to dig up from the far corners of the room.
"Acromantula venom…" he announced, setting down a chunky earthenware jar. Sargeras's eyes flicked to the label, which, to his mild surprise, read 'Jam' in faded handwritten letters.
"You'll need to grind the Moonstone into powder yerself…" Hagrid added, handing him a few pale blue stones that still had dried bird droppings clinging to them.
"As for Merperson scales… let me see here…" Hagrid reached up and tugged a dried-out merperson specimen down from the wall. With a few firm scrapes of his fingers, a handful of brittle, silvery scales flaked off and fell into a small dish.
"No idea if they're still good, mind yeh — found this fella washed up by the Black Lake a while ago…"
Sargeras picked one up and examined it closely. Nothing seemed off; they looked just fine to him.
"And for the Vampiric vegetation…" Hagrid scratched the back of his head, his rough fingers tracing an arc toward the Forbidden Forest in the distance. "I don't have any here. You'd have to take a trip into the forest… though I should warn yeh, this time o' year, they're starvin'."
He glanced at the thin, dark-robed professor standing beside him, clearly hesitating. After a moment, he opened his mouth like he was about to say something, then paused… before finally blurting it out.
"How 'bout I go with yeh — just in case?"
"No need!" Sargeras cut him off gently, his tone firm but polite. After getting Hagrid to point him in the right direction, he turned without another word and strode straight into the forest, disappearing beneath the dense canopy without looking back.
Following the path Hagrid had indicated, Sargeras hadn't gone far when he spotted what he was looking for.
Several Vampiric vegetation lay sprawled across the forest floor, their twisted forms glowing faintly with a dull, dark crimson under the dusky light. The tendrils pulsed ever so slightly, almost like veins throbbing beneath skin — subtle, but unmistakably alive.
The moment he stepped closer, the vines stirred. Their branches reared up like venomous snakes sensing prey, lifting their pointed ends high into the air. Thin, backward-facing barbs gleamed sharply along the stems, like the fangs of a predator waiting to strike.
"Take it easy."
With a graceful flick of his wand, Sargeras cast a razor-sharp Severing Charm. A flash of pale magic streaked through the air, and in the blink of an eye, the main vine snapped cleanly in two.
The severed stalk hit the ground with a soft, sickly sound, followed by a low, whimper-like hiss that curled through the forest gloom. Thick, dark juice oozed from the wound, splattering onto a bed of dead leaves in thick droplets that looked disturbingly like blood. The rest of the vines, sensing the sudden violence, froze in place — then slowly recoiled, shrinking back into the shadows, as though trying to vanish from sight.
Sargeras crouched down and calmly collected the remains, slipping the fresh specimen into his pocket. As he did, he muttered to himself with a wry smile, "You should be grateful for my lingering respect for sustainable harvesting. Otherwise, I'd have dug you up by the roots."
He had no interest in playing around with bloody bait to lure them out — not unless it was for a class demonstration, and definitely not for a simple ingredient run.
"Should I swing by the centaur tribe while I'm out here?" The thought crossed his mind briefly, but after a pause, he gave a small shake of his head and let it go.
Last time, he'd had a legitimate reason to visit. Going again now would just feel like bullying them — and centaurs were people too, after all.
With nothing else to collect from Hagrid's place, Sargeras decided he'd ask around at the upcoming Bronze Feather gathering to see if anyone else might have the materials he needed.
Of course, before that, he still had one more stop to make — he'd need to pay a visit to the Black Market first.
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[Chapter End's]
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