Chapter 165
"Boom!"
The violent explosion shook the entire house—but this time, Draco's experiment was not the cause.
Someone else was responsible.
---
"P-Please… Miss Parkinson, Kreacher suggests you use Muggle cooking methods for now!"
In the basement kitchen, Kreacher stood behind Pansy, trembling. The girl's cooking was far too destructive. At this rate, Kreacher feared he might lose his life before old age.
At that moment, disaster struck again.
A heavy kitchen knife suddenly flew out of control and shot toward Kreacher. It sliced past his scalp and embedded itself in the wall behind him, the blade still trembling.
"Kreacher suggests telling Master Malfoy! Miss Parkinson is destroying his property!" he cried in terror.
---
"What happened?"
Draco pushed open the basement door and froze at the scene.
"Miss Parkinson asked Kreacher to teach her cooking! Master agreed yesterday, so Kreacher obeyed! It's Kreacher's fault for not teaching properly—please punish Kreacher!"
Draco ignored the elf and looked at Pansy, who had lowered her head like an ostrich.
"I just wanted to learn," she muttered, staring at the floor, hands behind her back.
Draco sighed.
"Then we start with the basics."
"Alright, alright, I understand. Go do your own work—this kitchen is mine now."
Blushing, she pushed him out and shut the door firmly.
Only then did Draco feel relieved.
Inside, Pansy immediately regained her authority.
"How dare you complain!" she snapped at Kreacher. "Your punishment is to teach me until I succeed. And you'll deal with the failures."
Kreacher trembled, already imagining the coming days.
---
Draco went upstairs to the third floor.
One bedroom had been converted into a laboratory.
The original furniture had been removed. In its place stood a large worktable covered with bottles, ingredients, and tools. A cauldron burned steadily in one corner. Two tall cabinets and several bookshelves lined the walls.
Near them stood a damaged magical training dummy. Its upper body moved stiffly, and one of its fingers crawled slowly across the floor, reattaching itself. A permanent restoration charm allowed it to repair most damage over time.
Draco ignored it.
He had already tested several spells Salazar had taught him. The results were excellent.
---
In the cauldron, a faint blue potion lay perfectly still despite the strong flame beneath it.
"Salamander blood…"
Draco opened a vial of red liquid and poured it in.
The potion instantly began to boil violently. Colored smoke spiraled upward, filling the room.
"Whether it works or not, I have to try."
He stirred with precise movements—clockwise, then suddenly counterclockwise—his control exact and mechanical.
This potion mattered greatly.
According to Salazar, it could increase a wizard's magical power.
It had no name. There was no need to name something never meant to spread.
---
A wizard's strength depended on three things:
Knowledge.
Systematic education created a foundation that self-taught wizards could not match. Even Voldemort's rise began with seven years at Hogwarts.
Willpower.
Powerful magic required emotional and mental force—whether the determination to kill, the cruelty behind a curse, or the positivity needed for protective magic.
Talent.
The cruelest factor. Every wizard was born with a fixed potential. Growth came with age, but the upper limit was determined from birth.
Draco knew the truth.
His talent was only above average.
Soul transmigration had not changed that.
---
But Salazar's potion broke that limit.
In theory, even a Muggle could gain magic from it.
And that was precisely why Salazar had hidden it.
> "If this spreads, countless new Muggle-borns will appear. I would rather seal it forever. You must swear never to reveal it."
Instead of an Unbreakable Vow, Salazar used ancient contract magic—older, subtler, and binding.
The oath was already sealed.
---
The potion required a long process and careful timing.
Fortunately, materials were not a problem.
Between the Malfoy wealth and the stores of the Black house, everything was available. Many ingredients that had once been rare were now easily obtained.
Times had changed.
Magic had advanced.
And now—
Draco intended to advance with it.