"Hot pot? What's that, Anduin? Is it some sort o' foreign stew you wizards keep secret?" Hagrid asked, utterly bewildered by the unfamiliar term, his massive fork still poised in the air.
"It's an experience, Hagrid, not just a stew," Anduin corrected, the confidence in his voice absolute. "It's a tradition of communal dining, centered around fresh ingredients and customizable flavors. Wait right here; I need to process this magnificent meat first."
Anduin drew his wand. The sheer scale of the Re'em beef carcass demanded efficiency. With a series of precise Severing Charms, he cleanly detached the main muscle groups. He then used his wand to thinly slice enough meat for four large plates—the thinness being crucial for quick, tender cooking.
The rest of the enormous carcass was quickly subjected to a Freezing Charm and securely hung outside the hut, preserved by the deep winter cold.
From his deceptively large linen storage bag, he pulled out a gleaming copper hot pot—a traditional Muggle vessel with a distinct central chimney for heat and a broad, surrounding basin for simmering broth.
He took a few hot coals from the fireplace and placed them in the chimney, adding water and the fragrant broth base he had prepared: a simple yet potent mixture of chopped spring onions, thick ginger slices, and a dash of potent, warming spices like star anise.
"The key is the freshness and the speed," Anduin explained, setting the table with his portable chopsticks.
"The broth merely needs to boil fiercely. Once it's bubbling, we place the meat in for mere seconds—it's flash-cooked—retrieve it, and then dip it into a customized sauce I prepared. The magic of the Re'em meat, which is incredibly dense, will be partially broken down by the rapid heat, making its strengthening properties easier for your body to absorb."
Hagrid, holding his enormous fork skeptically, peered into the pot. "Just... boiled in water? Sounds an awful lot like boiled meat, Anduin. I can do that myself with a turnip."
"You'll understand when you try this sesame sauce," Anduin promised, offering a mischievous smile. He demonstrated, dropping a thin slice of the ruby-red Re'em beef into the pot. It turned gray instantly. He retrieved it, dipped it generously into the creamy, nutty, savory sesame paste he had whipped up with soy sauce and chilies, and handed it to Hagrid.
Hagrid took a tentative bite. His eyes immediately went wide, a slow comprehension dawning on his face. The contrast between the clean-cooked, potent meat and the complex, rich, sweet-and-spicy sesame sauce was an explosion of unexpected flavor. The texture, surprisingly tenderized by the thin cut, delighted him.
"Blimey, Anduin! That's... that's the best thing I've ever tasted!" Hagrid roared, immediately plunging three more slices into the bubbling broth. "It ain't just food, it's... it's a celebration!"
The two wizards devoured the meal with intense fervor, the hot pot crackling merrily, the rich, spicy steam filling the hut and perfectly counteracting the night's chill. It was the epitome of warmth, companionship, and deeply satisfying food.
After dinner, Hagrid leaned back, a massive, satisfied sigh escaping his chest. "Anduin, you've got such a head full of knowledge and good recipes. I wish you could just stay here permanently."
The remark, though casual, struck a chord. Anduin immediately began cataloging the advantages: total privacy for Occlumency and risky rune research, ample space for martial arts practice, and a quiet, focused environment far superior to the chaotic Slytherin Common Room.
"You know, that isn't a terrible idea," Anduin mused, calculating the logistics. "I rarely use the Common Room, and this place has an excellent, quiet atmosphere for studying and practice. But if I stay here regularly, where would I sleep? You only have the one room."
Hagrid's face lit up with unexpected, genuine enthusiasm. "A companion! I'd love the company, lad! Don't you worry about space! There's plenty of wood in the Forest, and I'm a dab hand with carpentry, even if I say so myself. I can build you a whole new room right onto the side of the hut in a few days!"
Anduin nodded. "That sounds excellent. I can't stay every single night—I need to maintain my presence in the dungeons to avoid suspicion from certain parties—but I could easily stay two or three nights a week for intensive practice sessions. I'll come down every afternoon after class and help you with the construction."
Hagrid readily agreed, absolutely thrilled at the prospect of regular company and a project that utilized his immense physical strength and carpentry skills.
The next day, around 3:00 PM, Anduin finished his lessons and headed towards the hut. He found Hagrid already a whirlwind of energy. He had chosen a leveled area of about ten square meters adjacent to the hut and was enthusiastically felling timber and piling heavy fieldstones.
Anduin immediately joined the effort. Together, they cleared the remaining ground. The dual advantage of their partnership was immediately evident: Hagrid handled the sheer brute force, while Anduin supplied the magical precision.
Anduin used a powerful Severing Charm to cleanly cut four immense, thick logs for the primary uprights, ensuring perfect ninety-degree corners.
For the floor, they meticulously arranged the heavy fieldstones. Anduin then used a repetitive, controlled Cutting Charm on the stone surfaces to shave down any unevenness, creating a tight-fitting, surprisingly level foundation that negated the need for expensive, heavy bricks.
The outer walls were erected quickly. Hagrid prepared the horizontal and vertical planks, nailing them together into large sections.
When it came time to raise the massive, heavy wall panels, Anduin effortlessly used a Levitation Charm to hold the immense structures steady while Hagrid secured them to the foundational stakes with industrial-sized nails. The final wall section was integrated directly into the side of Hagrid's hut, creating a shared wall.
Over the next few afternoons, the work continued in a seamless flow. Anduin, using his magic, ensured every structural piece—from the heavy, sloping roof beams to the frame for the new fireplace—was aligned perfectly before Hagrid permanently fixed it.
They laid down the finished wooden floorboards over the stone foundation, and finally installed a large window and the two connecting doors. Hagrid, showing surprising finesse, even crafted a small, covered balcony outside the main door—a perfect spot for reading or afternoon tea, overlooking the vegetable patch.
The finished room was a marvel of rustic, personalized construction, reminiscent of a Northern European hunting lodge. It had two access points: one, a heavily reinforced door leading directly to the covered balcony and the outside; the other, a connecting door leading directly into Hagrid's hut, offering easy access to the warmth and company.
Hagrid personally made most of the furniture, his carpentry skills truly exceptional. The bed, tables, chairs, and wardrobe all had a rugged, natural feel. With thick fur rugs and bedding laid down, the room was quickly completed, warm and deeply private.
Anduin officially moved into his annex. His schedule was now dramatically simplified: attending classes and then retreating to his quiet, focused lodge. He became significantly less visible at Hogwarts. Aside from popping up during lessons, he rarely appeared in the Common Room or even during mealtimes.
Even Vivian, the most observant student in their year, found him difficult to track, his ghostly life now punctuated by long, deep sessions of Runic study and silent mental training in the quiet seclusion of his new quarters.
That afternoon, after his final class of History of Magic—a lesson conveniently located on the top floor near an unused faculty bathroom—Anduin diverted from his path to the hut. He slipped into the dark, silent men's room, where he knew someone was nervously waiting.
"Randall, you are reliably punctual," Anduin said, his voice calm, the faint, silver light of his recently practiced Occlumency lending his eyes an unnerving, analytical stillness.
Randall Rozier, a sixth-year Slytherin, visibly flinched and pressed himself against the window frame. His face was pale and slick with anxiety, perpetually etched with the profound fear Anduin had engineered during their last, terrifying confrontation.
"Anduin, please... what will it take for you to simply let me go?" Rozier pleaded, his voice a strained, anxious whisper, clearly at the limit of his endurance.
Anduin stepped closer, the motion slow and deliberate, reinforcing the predatory atmosphere. He placed a hand heavily on Rozier's shoulder—a crushing gesture of ownership that pinned the older student in place.
"Demonize me? That's rather ungrateful, Randall," Anduin said, a thin, cold smile curving his lips.
"I haven't mistreated you. In fact, think of the benefit I've provided. Your problematic older brother, Evan, is gone. The line of succession in the Rozier family legacy has significantly clarified in your favor. I removed the obstacle. That's a favor worth far more than the petty Galleons I demand for your monthly protection."
Rozier trembled uncontrollably beneath Anduin's grip. The mention of Evan's disappearance—an event everyone in pureblood society suspected was far more sinister than the official story of an 'accidental magical mishap'—always shattered his composure. He knew Anduin was subtly, cold-bloodedly confirming his involvement.
"Evan's death... it has thrown the family into absolute turmoil, Anduin! No one is talking about inheritance; they are talking about vengeance and blood purges to prove their loyalty to the Dark Lord!" Rozier stammered, desperately trying to ease the pressure on his shoulder.
"I truly have nothing liquid left. I couldn't risk withdrawing any cash this month—my family is watching every vault transaction. I was forced to take a massive risk... I stole a few highly valued, restricted spellbooks from the main archives, hoping their rarity might cover my debt."
Rozier shoved a heavy, leather satchel containing three old, thick books into Anduin's chest. "Please. See if you can use these to pay off this month's fee. It's everything I dared to take to satisfy your demand for protection money."
Anduin slowly withdrew his hand, picking up the satchel and testing its weight. The leather was aged and cracked, and the contents radiated a subtle, cold power that spoke of dark and complex magical theory. Spellbooks are better than cash, Anduin calculated. Knowledge is infinitely more valuable and far less traceable than gold.
"Stealing from the family vault... that shows initiative, Randall," Anduin mused, a cruel glint in his eye. "But these books must be truly exceptional to make up for the missing Galleons. I will examine them, and we will discuss the outstanding balance next month. You know what happens if you miss a payment, don't you? Your usefulness ends, and your secrets become public knowledge."
Rozier could only nod, his face ashen, the fear confirming that he was utterly trapped—a pawn caught between the vengeance of the Dark Lord's followers and the cold, brilliant first-year who held his life in his hands.