Hagrid, visibly invigorated by the unexpected feast of Tepo Wild Boar Meatballs, cheerfully led Anduin outside. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the grounds as they embarked on a grand tour of the vegetable patch surrounding the hut. It was a chaotic yet highly productive space, brimming with an impressive variety of produce.
"See here, all hand-grown, Anduin! I put a lot o' love into this patch," Hagrid boasted, gesturing to dense rows of leafy greens and root vegetables. He explained that while much of his harvest was his own, only certain items were earmarked for Hogwarts' kitchens.
"Professor Sprout has her own massive greenhouses, you know. They're fitted with an Invisible Stretching Charm—you could fit a football stadium in there, I reckon. Keeps the school stocked year-round."
Hagrid's immense hand swept proudly over a bed of gourds. "Before Halloween, I always plant these pumpkins. Dean Sprout—a proper wizard with plants, she is—she comes and hits them with a Bloating Spell for the Great Hall's dinner display. Look at all this beauty! Gorgeous Brussels sprouts, the plumpest tomatoes, those huge spud varieties, lovely ginger root, and look at that kale!"
To Anduin's discerning gaze, the garden was a wonderful, practical example of fusion agriculture, but it was certainly skewed toward Western staples. There was not a stalk of Chinese leaf cabbage or any other familiar Eastern vegetable in sight. He was politely interested in the cultivation, but his real purpose lay deeper. He steered the conversation toward his primary objective.
"It's truly magnificent, Hagrid, especially the scale of those tomatoes," Anduin complimented, stepping closer to a row of heavily scented plants. "But tell me, do you grow any more potent species here? Something that might require a stronger Protean Charm to handle?" Anduin subtly adjusted his inquiry, phrasing his need for potion ingredients as an academic interest in rare or dangerous flora.
Hagrid paused, scratching his head. "Potent herbs? Like for proper potions? Bless you, lad, why would I? The greenhouses have plenty of what the students need. Many of those plants are right dangerous, though. If you don't grow them with the right countermeasures, they can be life-threatening just to touch." Hagrid looked puzzled, unable to reconcile the polite, food-loving Slytherin with a sudden interest in deadly botanical study.
"I see. So, the really interesting specimens are kept behind layers of magical protection. What about the Forbidden Forest? I can see its edge right there—are there any rare or naturally occurring herbs that thrive in that ecosystem?" Anduin looked toward the dark, menacing line of trees that formed the edge of the woodland, his mind already calculating the risk-to-reward ratio.
Hagrid's tone immediately shifted to one of serious caution, his enormous bulk seeming to swell slightly with protective instinct.
"Aye, the Forest is full of things that grow wild and strong, including herbs. I've seen some Mandrake berries ripening not long ago—they're worth a fortune, they are. But the Forest isn't like the grounds, Anduin. It's teeming with creatures that are dangerous, and some are protected. Hogwarts has several settlements of magical beasts in there, including a whole community of Hippogriffs. You can't just stroll in casually; you'd be risking more than a nasty sting or a bite."
"Understood, Hagrid. Absolutely understood. I was just letting curiosity get the better of me," Anduin assured him, taking the warning seriously. He knew Hagrid wouldn't lie about the dangers. Mandrake berries, dangerous flora, Hippogriffs...
The Forbidden Forest was not just a dark wood; it was an untamed, living reservoir of powerful and valuable ingredients. He mentally filed the warning: Learn Potion-making, identify necessary simple ingredients, and secure a safe entry/exit point before attempting procurement.
"Let's not talk about dangerous excursions anymore. It's making me hungry!" Anduin clapped his hands together with false cheer. "Let's grab some of those beautiful tomatoes, that spicy ginger, and the best potatoes you've got. I have a fantastic idea for those ribs we saved. We need a proper, sustaining meal."
They returned to the hut, carrying an armload of produce. Anduin wasted no time. He approached the massive, icy cupboard where the remaining Tepo Wild Boar ribs were stored.
He handled the magical meat with a mixture of reverence and surgical pragmatism. The ribs were monumental, each bone as thick and long as a grown man's forearm, the dark red flesh densely muscled and tightly bound to the bone. It was not the pale, soft pork of the Muggle world; it was a powerful, wild cut, preserved by Hagrid's unique Ice Charm, with streaks of solidified blood still visible along the bone lines.
"Normal frying or roasting would be a culinary crime," Anduin murmured, touching the hard, resilient flesh. "This isn't just tough; it's magically dense. We need to introduce moisture and heat over an extreme period of time to render the fibers into submission."
The sheer volume was daunting. The rack consisted of eight immense ribs, far too much for two men to eat in one sitting. Anduin requested Hagrid to sever two of the largest ribs. Using the Cleaving Charm repeatedly (and with Hagrid's assistance to steady the monstrous cuts), Anduin painstakingly managed to break the bones and flesh down into rough, manageable chunks—each piece still substantial enough to fill a standard bowl.
After washing the ribs meticulously, he placed them in a gigantic wooden basin. Anduin then prepared his secret weapon: a complex mixture of the spices he'd brought—star anise, cinnamon sticks, ground fennel, a generous hand of the fresh ginger, and a potent fermented bean paste from his stores, mixed with the soy sauce and a hint of treacle for color and sweetness.
This elaborate marinade was massaged into the rugged Tepo meat, ensuring every millimeter of surface area was permeated by the deep, savory scent.
"This initial seasoning is crucial," Anduin explained, as he worked the mixture with his hands. "We are trying to layer flavor upon flavor. The long, slow cooking will draw these spices deep into the bone marrow itself."
The fire was roaring. Hagrid's pot, a massive, round iron cauldron without legs (an ancient model designed to hang over a bonfire), was placed over the heat. Anduin added a generous amount of oil, searing the marinated Tepo chunks until they were browned and released an intensely pungent, smoky fragrance that instantly overpowered the residual scent of the meatballs.
He then added the rest of the spices, a splash of rice wine he'd found in his bag, and enough boiling water to completely submerge the massive volume of ribs. The pot was covered, and the long, slow work began.
Hagrid watched every move with rapt, childlike attention. The aroma emanating from the heavy iron lid was intoxicating, a constant, savory temptation that made his stomach rumble. While they waited, Hagrid dutifully peeled the potatoes and roughly chopped the onions and tomatoes, preparing the necessary accompaniments.
Anduin used the long wait to casually steer the conversation.
"Hagrid, your garden is too good to be just for you. If I'm going to be spending so much time here—visiting you and, uh, exploring the local flora—could you perhaps spare me a small, unused plot near the back of your garden? Just a tiny section?" Anduin asked, a small, hopeful smile on his face.
"A plot of land? Why, certainly, Anduin! No problem at all, lad. I've got that patch behind the shed that's mostly just weeds. I'll even help you till the soil and get it ready. You can plant whatever you want. Consider this your permanent residence whenever you need a change from those damp dungeons," Hagrid replied immediately, utterly delighted by the prospect of more culinary experiments and regular company.
A permanent, private, defensible base of operations on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, secured by the goodwill of the Gamekeeper, Anduin thought, a significant victory confirmed.
The ribs simmered, slowly bubbling away their toughness, for nearly an hour and a half. Anduin tasted the broth, adjusting the balance of salt and sweetness.
Seeing that the meat was finally approaching the desired level of tenderness, he added the prepared side ingredients—the massive potato chunks, onions, and tomatoes—along with a little more water to create a rich, enveloping sauce. They continued cooking for another thirty minutes until the potatoes were soft and the sauce had reduced to a thick, glossy, mahogany glaze.
When Anduin finally lifted the lid, the steam that escaped was thick with the essence of wild boar, earth, and complex spice. The Tepo ribs were transformed, their tough exterior softened to a yielding tenderness, the meat clinging gently to the bone.
The two of them didn't wait. They ladled immense portions onto their plates—the dark, rich ribs nestled amongst melting potatoes and coated in the deep brown, savory sauce. The eating was fast and utterly silent for several minutes, punctuated only by sounds of pure, unadulterated satisfaction.
"Ah, that's absolutely magnificent," Anduin sighed, pushing his plate away only after he was painfully full. "The richness of the Tepo fat, completely broken down by the slow braise... It's miles better than anything served in the school hall."
Hagrid, who had wiped his plate clean with a piece of bread, looked almost beatific. "Anduin, your cooking… it's like a secret weapon. Honestly, I'd trade ten sacks of Gillyweed for a bowl of that stew right now." Hagrid's praise, delivered with profound sincerity, was the most valuable payment Anduin could receive.
While Hagrid finished the last drops of the sauce, Anduin, suddenly energized, borrowed a piece of thick parchment and a charcoal pencil. He began sketching and writing with the careful attention of an engineer. Soon, a diagram materialized: a drawing of a deep, round-bottomed cooking vessel with tall, curved sides, and a specific, large spatula designed to match its curve.
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, bathing the Forbidden Forest in a menacing, violet light, Anduin stood up, ready to depart.
"Hagrid, I'm afraid curfew is coming, but I have one or two small requests. Are you planning a trip to Hogsmeade or maybe even Diagon Alley soon?" Anduin asked, casually folding the parchment.
"I'm heading down to Hogsmeade in a few days to pick up some supplies—a new leash for the pups and maybe some feed. What is it, lad?" Hagrid asked, already anticipating a fun favour.
"I have two requests, Hagrid, and they are important," Anduin said, lowering his voice slightly.
"Firstly, can you help me get some market intelligence? I need to know the current selling prices for a few specific potions—common ones, like the Draught of Living Death and the simplest Healing Potion. And on the flip side, I need the current buying prices for their primary herb ingredients." Anduin paused, allowing Hagrid to digest the unusual nature of the request. "I'm considering a project for my Charms class that requires understanding the magical commerce behind different ingredients."
Hagrid looked skeptical but not suspicious. "Potion prices? Well, alright. I know a few folks at the Three Broomsticks who talk shop. I can certainly jot down some prices for you."
"Excellent. Secondly, this is the most crucial part." Anduin handed Hagrid the parchment.
"This is a specialized piece of Muggle kitchen equipment. It's not a cauldron, but a custom cooking pot and its matching spatula. It needs to be made of thick, high-quality iron to handle the extreme heat I need. Could you take this drawing to a good metalworker or tinsmith in Hogsmeade and have them forge it? I need it to be exactly these specifications—especially the depth and the curvature of the bottom."
"What is this thing, exactly?" Hagrid asked, unfolding the drawing and peering at the detailed diagram of what was essentially a Wok—a cooking surface designed for rapid, high-heat stir-frying, a technique impossible in a traditional Western cooking pot.
"That, Hagrid, is a device for creating an entirely new dimension of delicious food here. With this, I can make things that will make these boar ribs taste like dry crackers. It's essential for my new garden plot," Anduin explained, emphasizing the connection to the food.
Hagrid, now completely swept up in the promise of even better meals, readily agreed. "Done and done, Anduin! I'll talk to the best craftsman in Hogsmeade. They'll have it ready for you, and I'll get those potion prices too."
The exchange was complete. Anduin had secured a vital piece of infrastructure (the garden plot), established a supply chain (Hagrid as the procurement agent), and initiated the intelligence gathering necessary to launch his plan to dominate the lucrative, high-risk world of magical potion markets.
Bidding farewell to his new, powerful, and delightfully naive ally, Anduin hurried back toward the familiar stone walls of Hogwarts, the scent of Tepo Wild Boar and simmering ambition clinging to his robes. He knew his path to power would not be paved with simple spells, but with careful commerce, calculated risk, and a well-armed culinary arsenal.
With the promise of a private garden and crucial market data on the way, Anduin's next step must be to master the arcane art of Poisons and Potions—but where in the labyrinthine castle can he find the forgotten texts of advanced brewing techniques?