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(Rebooted) Dragged into the Wizarding World

Seeing as all Harry Potter fictions start at an early age, taking it to the extreme offers some unique challenges. A regular dude is chilling with a new friend of his, when he suddenly discovers that he's being dragged through the dimensions, into an entirely different world, a world of magic. Unaware of the responsibility that was thrown at him, he does whaever he feels like. All canon character, worldbuilding and plot rights belong to J.K. Rowling

DemiLich · Book&Literature
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74 Chs

Sales Contract

St. Mungo's, late at night.

There were two Healers in an operating room, one in her sixties with a few gray strands of hair on her temples and another in her early twenties, an apprentice.

A young witch was on the table with a big chunk of flesh missing from her calf, white bone visible underneath, blood constantly seeping out.

The older witch asked: "What happened to her?"

The younger witch replied with some discomfort visible on her face: "She splinched while practicing apparating at home."

The older Healer took a glance at the patient and noticing that fresh blood was starting to flow out of the wound faster and faster, she commanded: "Recast the stasis charm, she's starting to bleed again!"

The apprentice flicked her wrist, her wand appearing in her hand. She weaved a pattern with it and a light flashed out of the tip.

"I just cast it; it's not helping!", she complained.

The older witch rolled her eyes, this apprentice looked like she'd need to get a lot more practice in before becoming a full-fledged staff member.

She ordered: "Hand me a wound-mending potion!"

The apprentice looked at a tray of potions. Many potions were in duplicate, but not exactly.

"Which one, there's two of them!"

The older witch shouted with urgency: "Just hurry up and hand me one, patients are waiting!"

The Healer apprentice took the one closest to her. In that bottle, there was a substance that was practically glowing pink, constantly flowing into itself, as if the edges were covering the center.

The older Healer uncorked the bottle and pours some of the contents onto the wound. Suddenly flesh begun rolling towards the bone from the edges, attaching to it soon after. A few seconds later, the only sign of the wound was black clotted blood covering the fresh and pink skin.

"Holy mother of mercy!" the experienced witch exclaimed.

"What is it?", the apprentice asked, worried that she had done something wrong.

There was 'Mother of Mercy Potions' written on the label, completed with the little animation that could also be seen on the Apothecary with the same name.

"It appears that the potion we were given for testing is many times more effective than anything we've seen before. Normally, it would take at least an entire phial of this potion to heal such a wound, but I only managed to use a few drops of it!"

The younger witch asked in confusion: "Doesn't that just make a difference of volumes?"

The older witch took a moment to explain in a lecturing tone: "That's what you'd think, but it's also a measure of purity. The purer a potion is, the lower the chances of side-effects occurring."

Suddenly, a raspy voice came from the side: "So… Hungry… Meat…"

The older Healer's eyes widened and she commented: "Scratch that, it seems very high purity and concentration has its own drawbacks. Rapid healing seems to deplete the nutrients in a patient's body. Give her directions to the canteen and bring the next one in."

A few moments later.

The Healer apprentice reads from a parchment pinned to the patient's chest while levitating an older wizard in front of her: "Patient is one James Plinton. Apparently had too much Firewhiskey and decided to have a brawl with a Mountain Troll. Needless to say, the Troll won. Found by a wizard out for a moonlit flight. Multiple fractured and broken bones, suspected internal and confirmed external bleeding, the wizard that found him cast a powerful stasis charm that kept him alive. It seems the saying that God protects the drunk is true in this case."

The older witch seemed to contemplate something for a while before saying: "I suppose since we already tried out one of the new potions, we can also try out a 'Mother of Mercy' Skele-Gro. Hand me another dose of the wound-mending potion as well, I'll give it internally."

The Healer apprentice hands over a bottle that has a glowing incorporeal skeleton formed around it, not unlike certain ocular magic from another world. She also returns the bottle with a pink glow back to the older witch.

The older witch opened the patient's mouth and let a few drops fall in, then waited for a moment, just to see if that dosage was enough. She didn't want to exceed the recommended dosage for two reasons. One was the risk of impurities and the other wasting a potion with seemingly unheard-of quality.

Soon, snaps, crunches and cracks started sounding from the unconscious wizard's body. His fingers that were resembling a bird's nest before pulled themselves straight and into shape, soon to be followed by the rest of his mangled limbs and ribcage. It was a miracle that the man had even survived.

Seeing the process of the wizard's body pulling itself back together, the older witch commented: "Honestly, this man can consider himself lucky that he's out like a log, otherwise he'd be screaming his throat raw right now."

The younger witch made a mental note about the realignment of bones being excruciating.

As suddenly as the sounds started, they stopped. "Enervate!" The older witch casts.

The wizard gets up from the operating table and asks with unfocused eyes: "Where am I?"

The older Healer replies: "St. Mungo's. you got yourself hurt quite bad."

The wizard puffed his chest and exclaimed: "You should've seen the other guy!"

The witch rolled her eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that day and said: "Right. Off you go. Stay out of trouble."

She then turned towards the apprentice and ordered: "Next patient!"

The next one the assistant brought to the operating table was a young wizard with long blonde hair, barely out of Hogwarts.

The apprentice didn't have a parchment describing the situation this time, she may have gotten the information from the one who brought her in: "From what I understood, he had an accident brewing the Draught of Living Death, apparently he tried to add shavings of Erumpent horn into it."

The older witch, who was rather familiar with that patient spoke exasperatedly: "Well, at least now he knows it's a bad idea."

"True. I presume we'll be testing the 'Mother of Mercy' Wiggenweld potion next?"

"Right you are. You want to do the honors?"

The young apprentice was encouraged by how the potions they had tested worked out so far, so she said: "Why not."

The younger witch took another bottle that had a strange mist swirling inside the liquid quite energetically. The moment she uncorked it near the patient, some of the mist escaped the bottle and flew into both of their nostrils. She felt electrified and as if her head was filled with cold fire, her idle thoughts going a mile a minute.

The patient was fully erect in the blink of an eye, shouting "They're coming! The Snorcacks…" After looking around himself, he gave a much tamer "Oh, hello there! Be sure to think positive thoughts to keep the Wrakspurts out!"

The patient then moonwalked backwards out of the third-floor window, without falling even an inch.

"What was that all about?"

The older Healer took a lecturing tone once again and said: "It's better you don't ask. Trust me. Every time you get him as a patient, just fix whatever's wrong and send him on his way."

The apprentice looked at her instructor quizzically before replying: "I see."

Later in the Matron's office

The older Healer who had been instructing an apprentice and attending to patients almost non-stop for the past 16 hours was sitting in a comfortable chair and rephrased: "As I was saying, the 'Mother of Mercy' line of potions are very potent. I would even say a bit too potent."

The one sitting behind a desk, a witch with sharp features and a head of gray hair looked at her puzzled, then asked: "How can a medicinal potion be too potent?"

"Just a few drops have been enough to heal any injury, however, such rapid healing leaves the patient extremely hungry. I fear that if the wound is grievous enough, instead of blood loss the patient would die from hunger.", the Healer explained.

"Interesting. Perhaps these potions should be accompanied by the administration of a nutritional tonic."

###

Mother of Mercy Apothecary, the next day.

An aging witch apparates in front of the shop and walks in. She quickly locates the counter run by a young witch.

The young witch wearing the sign 'Cashier Donna Hopkins' was the first to speak up. "I assume you're here about the batch of potions we gave you for testing. I hope the results were satisfactory."

"More than satisfactory, in fact. St. Mungo's would like to sign a supply contract with you for the next five years, provided that you can keep up the quality."

The young witch smiled at the good news and spoke: "I'm sorry, but I'm not qualified to discuss these matters. You'll have to talk to master Vywin for that. I'll see if he's available."

She then exclaimed "Berkel!"

A House-Elf apparated beside her with a pop. "Master's servant called Berkel?"

Donna was a bit displeased, but she wasn't going to argue with the elf over the designation Laly had given her. Instead she said, "Would you be as kind as to fetch master Vywin, there are some matters that require his attention."

Laly disapparated and apparated a few moments later, holding onto the hand of a wizard in his forties.

"Hello. I am Charles Vywin. I presume you have something to discuss to have summoned me so hastily."

"Hello, I'm Minny Blubber. I'm the matron at St. Mungo's." As she was introducing herself, she shook the hand that the man had extended. She found the man's grip quite firm.

"What would bring the matron of St. Mungo's to my humble apothecary?"

"We tried the potions you gave us as samples, and we found that they are extremely effective. St. Mungo's would like to contract your apothecary for a five-year contract, provided the quality is at least the same as the samples."

Charles��� face remained calm as he spoke: "I can at the very least guarantee a stable quality for our products. However, since your personnel has managed to see the effects of the potions first-hand, are there any other potions you would like to request?

After all, these improved efficiency potions are the results of our research and development department. Improving a potion takes time and I do believe you would like to get all essential potions with improved quality."

"For now, I would be very thankful if you added a high-grade nutritional tonic to the list. It turns out that healing large portions of missing flesh or bones causes the patient's body to become depleted of nutrients."

"No worries, we already have three types of nutritional tonics in stock. I simply didn't expect that it would be needed by the hospital. Now, let's talk terms for the contract."

The contract stated that the following would be supplied to St. Mungo's: Anti-Paralysis Potion, Antidote to Common Poisons, Antidote to Uncommon Poisons, Blood-Replenishing Potion, Burn-Healing Paste, Love Potion Antidote, Murtlap Essence, Oculus Potion, Pepperup Potion, Wideye Potion, Calming Draught, Dreamless Sleep Potion, Wiggenweld Potion, Wound-Cleansing Potion, Wound-Mending Potion, Skele-Gro and Vitamix Potion.

At Mr. Vywin's agreement, the prices were set at 90% market price. As it stood, Gaude was planning to use St. Mungo's as an advertisement platform, so small concessions could be made. There was also the fact that even at 90% market price, the potions would still cover the production cost at least threefold.

After the contract was signed, the old lady spoke "We would also like some Invigoration Draught and Girding Potion for the staff for the more intense days."

"Understandable. Once again, I'm way ahead of you. Performance enhancing potions are a must when working long shifts, after all."

###

Gaude had already hired agents that were ready to portkey into every Wizarding community on Earth and start advertising the Mother of Mercy line of potions with claims that the quality was so good St. Mungo's wanted nothing but those products. It was true, but since it would take a while for the other communities to check the fact, it was best to get the story out as soon as the contract was finalized.

After finalizing the contract, Gaude returned home. He took a tour of the entire place. The additional greenhouses were almost fully planted, the Herbologists even claimed that there were more than 2500 species of magical herbs and fungi present. Gaude wasn't going to argue, even though the book of Herbology he had only specified a thousand of them.

The ingredient zoo was brimming with life. There were also quite a few open-air ranches for creatures that didn't have the habit of breaking out of their enclosures or simply flying away. Any other creature was in a completely isolated enclosure, a view of landscape painted on the wall and a few square miles of actual landscape to frolic around in.

There were also cattle ranches and crop farms in similar enclosures, where the conditions were kept optimal for the growth of greenery all year, so that the ingredient zoo would always be well-fed. Naturally, a portion of the cattle and crops grown in the farm section was sold to Muggles all across Britain, another way to get some profits instead of making losses by outsourcing the food for the zoo.

The elves were quite happy with that arrangement as well – tending to the farm ensured that they always had something to do. Even if there weren't any weeds as all the soil was produced by turning the bedrock into dust and infusing it with micro- and macronutrients, there was always a field that needed harvesting, plowing or replanting, cattle that needed herding, sheep that needed shearing and so on.

While it was comical to watch a bunch of child-sized creatures herding cattle, the opinion would quickly change when you witnessed them taking down a rampaging Erumpent by modifying the terrain to create a pitfall, apparating huge rocks above its head and knocking it out. The most disconcerting part was that the elves laughed and screamed maniacally the whole time they were doing it – they actually had fun taking down one of the creatures that got their XXXX rating due to being so dangerous, and not because they were stealthy like a Demiguise.

Since pest and disease control was taken care of with magic, the products could, by a bit of a stretch, be called fully organic. Spatial extension and weather-related charms were truly handy, if one knew how to take the most out of them. In addition, there was the Sunlight Charm, that managed to reproduce actual sunlight, in full spectrum – even the UV component was there, taking care of any fungal spores and bacteria that decided to try air travel.

Honestly, I'm not sure about the farms, they feel like a bit too much, but they should be perfectly viable (unless we go deep into mana logistics so to speak, then it ends up revealing that it might not be so viable after all, depending on the conversion ratio), IDK, I'd have to crunch the numbers, but I'm no good at Arithmancy

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