HP: god of potions

Chapter 92

The courtroom filled with the stench of decayed blood, forcing them to remove the sample. Gray laughed lightly as everyone glared at him. "What? Do you have any idea how many curses and hexes can be cast using blood? I'm not dumb enough to let that happen." The Minister of Magic sighed, and the trial continued. "Lastly, you are accused of spreading rumors at Hogwarts that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named—" "Voldemort," Gray interjected, saying the name aloud, causing shocked gasps throughout the room. Umbridge could barely contain her anger. "You have been spreading rumors that he has returned," she said through clenched teeth. Gray replied calmly, "Which he has. I fought him, and I think he's dead." His words caused murmurs and debates to erupt among the gathered wizards, making gray groan for a moment.

Deep within the mountains of Scotland, where Hogwarts Castle stood as the nearest magical landmark, a lone figure could be seen walking toward a peculiar mountain that seemed out of place amidst the rugged terrain. This figure, barely standing five foot ten, possessed a lithe frame and walked with a staff in hand. Despite his slight appearance, there was an undeniable aura of power surrounding him. The figure audibly sighed, his voice carrying across the still air as he muttered, "Alright, you've made a habit of attacking me on my turf. Let me return the favor." With that, he firmly planted his staff into the ground, its tip glowing faintly with arcane energy as he began chanting in a language ancient and powerful.

Gray, the figure in question, uttered in Latin, "O magia, revela quod latet ante me." The words resonated through the air, and in an instant, the concealment charm cloaking the area shattered like glass. Before him, a sprawling hidden base was revealed, its structure blending into the natural surroundings of the mountain. The hideout belonged to the Battle Mages of the Order of Merlin, a revelation he discerned from the faint whispers of silver tongues at his hearing. The base was a blend of ancient architecture and modern magical enhancements, with stone walls fortified by shimmering wards and runes that pulsed faintly. Inside, martial mages sat around, their focus on enchanted devices monitoring the magical activities near Hogwarts. The moment the concealment broke, an alarm rang out, and the mages scrambled into action.

Their movements were swift and practiced, but as they prepared to retaliate, an unshakable sense of wrongness settled over them. Their instincts, honed from years of combat, screamed that something was amiss, yet they could not discern the source. Even the battle-forged among them, those hardened by countless conflicts, found their senses dulled. Unbeknownst to them, Gray had unleashed his domain—a metaphysical construct of absolute control, rendering them powerless within its bounds. Moving with clinical efficiency, Gray scanned their memories, his mind piercing through their thoughts with ease. He had no reservations about extracting every piece of information they held about their mission and operations, his face betraying no emotion as he absorbed their knowledge.

With a resigned sigh, Gray began looting the hideout, his eyes scanning the room for anything of value. He collected enchanted artifacts, rare spell tomes, and precious materials, his actions swift and deliberate. The base, once a hub of activity, now felt like a hollow shell as he methodically stripped it of its treasures. "Well, that's it," he muttered to himself, his tone one of mild disappointment as he stepped outside. Raising his staff once more, Gray began chanting in Latin, his voice calm and unwavering as he said, "Ex caelis ruat meteoron." The skies above darkened, and an actual meteor began to materialize, its fiery descent an inevitable force of destruction aimed at the now-empty hideout.

The meteor hurtled down, obliterating the hideout in an explosion that shook the very mountain. Gray stood unaffected, his expression neutral as he observed the destruction with a sense of finality. He turned on his heel and began walking away, his movements graceful and unhurried. The entire sequence of events had unfolded with the precision and ease of a seasoned master, and not once had Gray broken a sweat. As he disappeared into the distance, the mountain bore silent witness to his unparalleled power and the devastation left in his wake.

-scene change-

Inside Pangea, Gray was sitting under the World Tree while reading a book. His long and lush white hair cascaded down his shoulders, complementing his alabaster skin and thin build, giving him the appearance of a cultivator immortal. Despite this, Gray missed his former looks, which resembled a Greek god. However, while he didn't appreciate his newfound handsomeness, someone else did—Raven, perched on his staff and soaking up the energy of the arcane stone. She stared at him intently as he flipped page after page until he yawned and stood up. "Alright, let's get my vacation started," he said, and as Raven flew toward him with the staff, he disappeared into a well. Moments later, he reappeared by the Hogwarts Express, which raced through the Scottish moors, its rhythmic clatter fading as dusk descended into night.