HP: Alchemy? Nah, It's Crafting

Footage of a new alchemy workbench has leaked from Hogwarts.

Of course, it isn't just a normal bench but has its original name, the Enchanting Table!

Perhaps some mischievous student had used an item, some magical recording spell, or even a wizarding video camera.

Whatever the case, Kasen's demonstration of enchanting Cedric's wand had made its way outside the school.

Kasen, however, wasn't too bothered by this. If anything, he kind of liked the attention.

Back in the Muggle world, when he ran his custom home decor business, it only took two commissions for his reputation to spread across London. The benefits of fame were immediate and tangible: he could pick and choose projects, work less while earning more, and avoid dealing with clueless clients who tried to boss him around with their walnut-sized brains.

Now, in the wizarding world, he was becoming a rising star in the European alchemy community—a bright and early shining star hanging high in the magical heavens.

Though the perks of this newfound fame had yet to materialize, the downside hit immediately.

A flurry of letters had eaten up two and a half hours of his time, forcing him to seek out Dumbledore for an emergency consult.

"Ugh..."

Kasen sat slouched on the sofa in the headmaster's office. <—Was liking the attention 2 minutes ago!

"You look tired," Dumbledore remarked.

"It's these letters. Every one of them claims to be from the most prestigious alchemy circles in Europe, but I have no clue who any of these people are. So…"

"So you want me to help you pick the most legitimate ones?" Dumbledore asked, glancing over the signatures on the letters, already forming an opinion.

"No, I want you to help me figure out how to politely, gently, and diplomatically refuse all of them without offending anyone," Kasen clarified.

"Why?"

"…Don't you think that if I meet a truly professional alchemist, I'd get exposed in five seconds flat? Then, this so-called rising star of the alchemy world would instantly become a con artist, and before you know it, I'd be kicked out of Hogwarts. Does that sound... ideal to you?"

"You're overthinking it, truly. Don't sell yourself short. You need to trust in the imagination of your peers. Plenty of people already 'know' that you're an apprentice-trained wizard. So, having some gaps in alchemical theory compared to formally schooled wizards is perfectly reasonable."

"...I didn't even know I was an apprentice-trained wizard. How many parts of my backstory have you made up?"

"Hahaha~ You may not know this, but in my youth, I dabbled in writing fiction for Muggle publishing houses."

"...."

And so, with a mix of persuasion and sweet-talking, Kasen let Dumbledore convince him to reply to the European Alchemy Guild—an association that Dumbledore claimed was essentially the alchemical equivalent of the Wizengamot in terms of prestige.

According to the headmaster, this guild held a status even higher than the Order of Merlin, which, as everyone knew, could technically be bought if you had enough money.

As Kasen left the headmaster's office, wandering through the castle corridors, he began to wonder if he'd just been swindled by that sly old fox.

Then again, probably not.

After all, Dumbledore didn't stand to gain any commission for nudging him into the alchemical guild. Maybe this really was for his own good?

Or perhaps he was just doubting himself because his alchemical skills were, in truth, embarrassingly thin?

It should be something like this...

"Probably," Kasen muttered, trying to convince himself as he wandered through the castle halls, lost in thought.

He was only snapped out of his mental whirlwind when a faint sound of sobbing drifted from a nearby stairwell.

Curious, he turned toward the source of the sound and found a small figure sitting on the steps, dressed in Gryffindor robes.

"Hello?" Kasen softened his voice as much as possible, trying not to startle the young student.

It didn't work.

The boy jolted like he'd been hit by a spell and nearly tumbled down the stairs.

Thankfully, Kasen reacted quickly, grabbing the back of the boy's robe just in time to prevent disaster.

Only then did he get a proper look at him.

"Longbottom, isn't it?" Kasen recalled the name from the Sorting Ceremony.

"Yes, Professor." Neville Longbottom sniffled, wiping his face with the sleeve of his robe.

The gesture was so tragically messy that Kasen froze mid-motion as he instinctively reached for his pocket.

"...Take this," Kasen said after a brief pause, handing Neville a handkerchief. "And next time, don't use your sleeve for that, all right?"

"Thank you, sir. You're... you're very kind."

Tears welled up in Neville's eyes again as he clutched the handkerchief tightly.

[Neville's favorability +10]

[Neville's trust +10]

"Thanks for the compliment. Now, mind telling me why you're hiding here, all by yourself... uh, crying?" Kasen asked.

"They bullied... I mean.. it's nothing. I just tripped, that's all," Neville stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Did someone bully you?" Kasen asked in concern.

"N-No.. I said I tripped.."

"...If you don't want to tell me, I can take you to Professor McGonagall's office instead." Kasen offered casually, though his tone held a mischievous edge. "Don't worry, I'll explain it to her in a very clever way. I'll tell her that you, uh... had a little skirmish, bravely faced overwhelming odds, and unfortunately came up short. Then Professor McGonagall, being the lioness she is, will go after them herself."

"You'll still be the heroic Gryffindor who bore their pain in silence, licking their wounds like a true lion. How does that sound?" Kasen leaned in slightly, waiting for Neville's response.

For a moment, Neville's teary eyes brightened with a glimmer of hope.

"Let's go. I'll take you to Professor McGonagall," Kasen said, extending his hand.

Neville hesitated, his gaze darting to Kasen's outstretched hand. After a long moment of internal deliberation—and perhaps realizing it was impolite to keep the professor waiting—he shyly reached out and took Kasen's hand.

Ugh, Merlin's beard, I should've told him to wipe his hand first... fresh snot.

Kasen winced inwardly but kept his composure. He didn't want to bruise the sensitive pride of an eleven-year-old. Ignoring the sticky sensation, he gently led Neville toward McGonagall's office.

After knocking, Kasen guided Neville inside. The moment McGonagall saw Neville's tear-streaked face and red, puffy eyes, her expression softened, though it remained serious. She clearly had a good idea of what had transpired.

Kasen ushered Neville to a chair opposite McGonagall's desk and, ensuring the boy wasn't looking, stealthily grabbed a discarded piece of parchment from a nearby table to discreetly wipe his hand.

McGonagall, noticing the act, gave Kasen a quick, apologetic look before resuming her stern demeanor.

"Mr. Longbottom, please tell me what is going on."

Neville flinched at the sound of Professor McGonagall's voice, and Kasen quickly stepped in to ease the tension.

"Let me handle this," Kasen said with a reassuring smile. "After I left Dumbledore's office, I ran into Neville—" He paused and turned to the boy. "Neville, forgive me, I haven't been at Hogwarts much longer than you. What was that place again?"

Neville hesitated for a moment before murmuring softly, "The second-floor south corridor."