Magic wasn't just casting spells or flicking a wand.
It was management, preparation, and foresight.
I quickly realized that wasting rare ingredients was a luxury I couldn't afford — not yet. Not when I had an entire Middle-earth to conquer and the wars of the future to prepare for.
So I improvised.
Carrots. Potatoes. Onions. Apples. Mushrooms. Anything edible in the kitchens became my practice material. I experimented endlessly: brewing, chopping, stirring, muttering incantations under my breath. Even a simple Levitation Charm over a potato taught me precision; a bubbling carrot potion taught me the delicate balance between heat, timing, and magical focus.
Some mixtures fizzed and smoked, giving off terrible smells. A few even exploded, coating the ceiling with a sticky, semi-magical goo. I cleaned it up without complaint — learning through mistakes was faster than learning through perfection.
But practicing wasn't enough. I needed a sustainable system.
I turned several empty classrooms into indoor gardens, filling them with soil, sunlight spells, and ward-enhanced care. Rows of magical plants grew faster under my guidance than they ever could on their own. Each sprouting leaf, each budding flower was another resource secured for potions, charms, and experiments.
Using the wards, I created enclosures and breeding grounds for magical animals — Thestrals, Hippogriffs, even a few unicorns that had wandered close to the castle. Their interactions were carefully monitored. Fawkes supervised most of the phoenix-related experiments, shedding feathers occasionally for my use in wandmaking and infusion.
Soon, Hogwarts felt less like an empty castle and more like a living, breathing magical ecosystem.
I moved through the halls like a general surveying their kingdom. Every room had purpose. Every corridor had function.
Some rooms grew plants;Some housed creatures;Some were still libraries, cauldrons, and worktables.
I had even started sketching out a long-term magical farm plan: greenhouses, potion rooms, magical incubators — a self-sufficient fortress where spells, potions, and resources could be produced endlessly.
It was exhausting. And yet, every evening, I felt a quiet satisfaction.
This wasn't just Hogwarts.It was my domain.A fortress of magic, animals, and knowledge — a place where I could survive, thrive, and prepare for everything the world would throw at me.
And most importantly, it was a foundation.
Because the moment I stepped outside Hogwarts, Middle-earth wouldn't wait. Sauron, dragons, and other forces wouldn't wait.And neither would I.