The familiar hum of the Room of Requirement filled the air, the walls shimmering with shifting intent as I entered. Books floated around me, cauldrons bubbled in rhythm, and intricate arrays of runes burned faintly on the floor — my sanctum of creation.
I had spent over two relentless weeks buried in this secret haven, splitting my focus between Hogwarts classes, my followers' training, and my own obsessive research. Potions — one of the most refined and overlooked forms of magic — had always intrigued me. And now, after days of exhaustion, experimentation, and failure, I was standing on the edge of perfection.
The first cauldron emitted a faint golden steam, the potion within swirling with luminous veins of silver. I raised my wand and whispered, "Refrigerum Stabilitas," sealing the reaction. The fumes dispersed, leaving behind a liquid that shimmered like molten starlight.
A smirk touched my lips. "Finally… it's done."
This potion — my masterpiece — permanently amplified an individual's magic. The degree depended on their soul and physical fortitude. I had tested prototypes on enchanted homunculi and magical constructs; the results were undeniable. The only limit was its activation — once every seven years.
Even a restriction like that made sense. Too much power, too quickly, could shatter a soul.
I leaned back, gazing at the potion with satisfaction. "A potion that touches the core of magic itself. No one at Hogwarts, not even Slughorn, could dream of this."
But that wasn't all. The creation process had opened new doors. On the other tables lay rows of other concoctions, each one a product of genius and obsession.
The Transfiguration Genius Potion, a bright cerulean liquid that sparkled as if alive, enhanced creativity and sharpened focus. With imagination being the cornerstone of Transfiguration, this potion made mastery attainable for even the average wizard. For someone like me, however, it made perfection almost trivial.
The second potion was practical yet revolutionary — a Magical Restoration Draught. The deep violet potion shimmered faintly when stirred. A single sip could restore drained magic instantly, far superior to the Ministry-approved variants that required hours of recovery.
Then, gleaming ruby-red under candlelight, was my Regenerative Elixir — a healing potion so potent that it could mend light wounds in seconds. Flesh, bone, and even torn muscles regenerated seamlessly.
But as I was noting my final adjustments, something unexpected happened.
A faint chime echoed in the air — a sound not from this world.
Ding!Congratulations to the host for creating several advanced potions.Reward: Recipe of the Spiritual Potion.
I froze. Then smiled. "Oh… that's interesting."
A scroll appeared before me, glowing faintly in silver-blue light. The text burned into my mind the moment I touched it.
Spiritual Potion — a potion designed to restore the very essence of one's soul. It could mend damage to the spirit, regenerate fragments lost to dark curses, or stabilize a soul after magical overload.
It was divine-tier magic in liquid form.
"Regenerating the soul…" I whispered, staring at the swirling mist within the scroll's vision. "Even the Resurrection Stone can't heal the soul like this. Not completely."
My pulse quickened as I imagined the possibilities — soldiers who could recover from Dementor attacks, wizards saved from Cruciatus damage, or even bringing someone back from the brink of magical annihilation.
This was beyond simple potion-making. This was godlike craftsmanship.
I chuckled softly, pacing between my tables, eyes gleaming. "Slughorn would faint if he saw this… Dumbledore would call it impossible. But impossible is exactly what I do."
I closed the scroll, my mind already calculating ingredients, reactions, and magical correspondences. The path to creating the Spiritual Potion wouldn't be simple — it required essence of phoenix feather, crystallized soul fragments, and something called "Astral Silver," an ethereal metal said to exist only between worlds.
Difficult, yes. But for me? Merely another challenge to crush beneath my will.
I extinguished the flames under my cauldrons and gazed at my collection — each potion gleaming in the low golden light.
Power. Knowledge. Perfection.Everything was falling into place.
I smiled coldly to myself. "Step by step… the world will remember my name. And when the time comes, even Dumbledore will bow before the alchemy of the Dark Lord reborn."
Would you like the next chapter to show you testing one of these potions — perhaps the Spiritual Potion prototype — or would you prefer it to focus on your growing influence and how your subordinates react to your creations?