Hogwarts: I graduated before the system came

He poured the filtered porcini soaking water into the pot, and the rich mushroom aroma immediately rose up.

"For example, half of your injuries come from the Holy See's sacred magic, causing burning and confinement. The other half come from the dark wizard's curse, causing stagnation and corruption."

“So, we need to use corresponding things to solve it.”

He tossed rosemary, sage, and oregano into the pot, added water, and covered it with a heavy lid.

"The spicy aroma of rosemary can interfere with the high-frequency vibrations of the Holy Light Spell; the cooling properties of dandelion can neutralize the burning sensation. This is called balancing yin and yang."

"The ingredients in oregano and garlic can inhibit the putrefactive bacteria associated with black magic. The polysaccharides in the porcini mushroom can enhance your own magical resistance and clear out the stagnant dark energy. This is called strengthening the positive and dispelling the negative."

He spoke of his groundbreaking theory in a tone as relaxed as if he were explaining a home-cooked dish.

"If my former Potions professor, Severus Snape, heard what I said, he would probably be so angry that he would drop the cauldron on my head."

Douglas shrugged, a wistful smile on his face.

"Well, actually he did kick me out of the classroom and made me peel toads for two days... But he didn't know that during those days, the extra snacks in the Hufflepuff common room were braised toad, stewed toad, toad porridge... Toads cooked in all kinds of ways... Delicious!"

pS: If you are interested, you can try making it

Italian Wild Stew Pot Easy Recipe (Non-Magic Version)

Preparation: Cut 500g pheasant chicken into pieces, soak in cold water for 1 hour to remove the blood, drain, add salt, black pepper, and 2 tablespoons of olive oil, mix well and marinate for 15 minutes; soak 200g wild porcini mushrooms in warm salt water for 30 minutes, dice and keep the soaking water; cut 1 red onion into strips, and flatten 4 cloves of garlic; wash 10 cherry tomatoes, chop rosemary, sage, and oregano leaves, blanch dandelion leaves and cut into sections, and tear hard bread into small pieces.

Stir-fry: Pour 20ml of olive oil into a hot pan, add shredded onion and garlic cloves and sauté until fragrant. Add the marinated pheasant pieces and fry until golden brown. Add the diced porcini and cherry tomatoes and stir-fry. Pour in 50ml of the porcini soaking water.

To stew: Add enough water to cover the ingredients, add rosemary, sage, and oregano, bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce heat and simmer with the lid on for 40 minutes; add dandelion greens and bread cubes and simmer for another 15 minutes.

Season and serve: Season with salt and black pepper, sprinkle with 50g of grated Parmesan cheese, drizzle with 5ml of olive oil, and sprinkle with a little fresh oregano.

Note: The ingredients can be replaced with wild pheasant → farmed chicken, wild porcini → dried / ordinary mushrooms. It is completely feasible and suitable for home cooking or Italian flavor lovers to try.

Tip: This warming, comforting stew is perfect for fall and winter, ideal paired with a glass of red wine. For a more authentic Italian flavor, add a little white wine (instead of some of the water) or a sprinkle of freshly ground black pepper for a spicy kick and added complexity.

Chapter 405: Treat illnesses when you are sick, and strengthen your body when you are healthy!

The soup in the pot was bubbling, and its rich aroma mixed with the fragrance of herbs filled the entire cave.

The fragrance, overbearing yet gentle, penetrated into everyone's nostrils.

The werewolves, who were unable to eat due to their injuries, felt their throats roll unconsciously, and a long-lost feeling of hunger came from their stomachs.

Forty minutes later, Douglas opened the lid of the pot.

He threw blanched dandelion greens and torn pieces of crusty bread into the pot.

"The bread will absorb the remaining negative energy in the soup. Tearing it up symbolizes breaking the curse. The final sweetness of the dandelion will neutralize the spiciness of the other herbs, softening the flavor."

He simmered it for another fifteen minutes.

When he finally turned off the fire, sprinkled some Parmesan cheese on it, and watched the snow-white cheese slowly melt in the residual heat and pull out golden threads, no groan could be heard in the entire cave.

Everyone's eyes were fixed on the pot.

What was swirling inside seemed to be no longer ordinary food.

But it is a pot of flowing, warm, golden hope.

Douglas stirred it with a large wooden spoon and scooped up a spoonful.

The thick soup presents an attractive amber color, the chicken is stewed to tenderness, the mushrooms are plump, and the red of tomatoes, green of dandelions and white of cheese are dotted in between, forming a picture that is enough to make any hungry person drool.

"All right."

Douglas handed the spoon to Marco, with a smile on his face.

“Healing sometimes starts in the kitchen, not the pharmacy.”

Marco took the huge wooden spoon. The warmth of the spoon handle came from his palm, as if carrying the lingering warmth of Douglas's fingertips, heavy, like a silent promise.

He walked over to the youngest and most seriously injured werewolf, a boy named Leo, whose leg was pierced by a Holy Light arrow. The wound was charred black, and the flesh could not heal. His entire body was burned like a piece of iron.

Leo's lips were cracked, his eyes were dull, and he almost didn't have the strength to moan.

Marco scooped up a spoonful of thick soup, blew it gently, and brought it to Leo's mouth.

An indescribable, warm and overbearing fragrance brushed Leo's nose like a gentle hand.

The aroma forced a crack in his chaotic consciousness, and he opened his mouth instinctively.

The soup slid down my throat.

That's not medicine.

Leo's eyes widened a little.

It was a taste he had never tasted before. The rich mushroom flavor was like the moist earth deep in the forest, the crispy chicken had the warmth of fire, the sourness of tomatoes and the fragrance of herbs danced on the tip of his tongue, and finally the salty aroma of cheese enveloped everything like melted moonlight.

A warm current rose from the stomach and quickly spread to every part of the body.

Wherever the warm current reached, the constant burning pain in the wound on the leg, as if countless tiny insects were gnawing at the bones, miraculously began to subside.

It was no longer a piercing pain, but a tolerable, dull soreness.

It's like a raging wildfire that is suddenly extinguished by a warm spring rain.

Leo's body stopped shaking, his tense muscles slowly relaxed, and he let out a long, contented breath.

That breath took away the heat of high fever and the dead air of despair.

He looked at Marco, his cracked lips moved and he uttered a few unclear syllables.

"...delicious."

This scene, like a stone thrown into a stagnant pool, caused ripples throughout the entire cave.

All the wounded struggled to raise their heads, and the same light burned in their cloudy eyes.

It is the most primitive desire for food and the most instinctive yearning for life.

Douglas tapped the edge of the pot lightly with a wooden spoon, making a crisp sound that attracted everyone's attention.

"Stop looking."

His voice was calm but powerful.

"This is for all of you. The treatment starts with filling your stomach. Come, eat it while it's hot."

In one sentence, the entire cave came alive.

Douglas directed several uninjured young werewolves to distribute bowls of golden soup.

The painful groans turned into the sound of swallowing saliva and the crisp sound of bowls and spoons colliding.

In the cave, the painful ensemble was replaced by a grand dinner march.

The rich fragrance was pervasive and even drifted outside the cave.

The werewolves who were on guard or taking care of their families also smelled the scent.

Their stomachs growled at inopportune moments.

A little werewolf, only seven or eight years old, secretly poked his head out from behind his mother. He was not injured, but his little face was pale from hunger.

He sniffed the fragrance in the air hard, his dark eyes fixed on the big iron pot, his saliva almost dripping.

He tugged at Marco's trouser leg and asked in a low, timid voice, "Chief... Can we eat too?"

This question made the young werewolves distributing food pause.

This is medicine for the wounded.

They dare not make decisions on their own.

A trace of embarrassment flashed across Marco's face, and he looked at Douglas with a questioning look in his eyes.

After all, he couldn't tell whether this thing was medicine or delicacy, and it was such a big pot.

"of course can."

Douglas's voice sounded relaxed, breaking the brief silence.

He winked at the little werewolf, a grin on his face like a street magician who had just conjured up candy.

"This isn't some precious potion, it's just Sicilian chicken stew."

He patted the huge cast iron pot, making a "clang clang" sound.

“Treat the disease if you are sick, and strengthen your body if you are healthy.”

"For the wounded, this is a good way to dispel the curse."

"It can also cleanse your bodies of old magical damage accumulated from the full moon transformation."

“But at the end of the day, it’s first and foremost a hot meal that fills your stomach.”

Douglas looked around at everyone with a smile on his face.

"So, everyone come here and bring your bowls. Tonight, no one in the Emberclaw tribe will go to bed hungry."

These words completely destroyed the last bit of defense in the hearts of the members of the Ash Claw tribe.

The potion is precious, comes at a price, and belongs to the wounded.

But food belongs to everyone.

A suppressed cheer of joy and disbelief erupted in the cave.

The children cheered and rushed forward with their little wooden bowls.

Soon, the entire Ash Claw tribe, regardless of gender, age or severity of injury, were holding a bowl of steaming stew, sitting or lying down, eating with happy faces.

The cave was filled with a strange aroma, a mixture of the fragrance of food and the taste of hope.

Marco watched Douglas's every move.

This powerful wizard did not give alms in a condescending manner, but was like a neighborhood chef, inviting everyone to share a sumptuous dinner.

This kind of equality can soothe the heart more than any powerful healing spell.

Trust, sometimes, does not require grand vows, but only a pot of steaming stew.

All the wonders of Douglas that Marco had previously described to his tribesmen, at this moment, became realities that could be swallowed.

Most members of this tribe were accidentally bitten in peacetime and were forced to become werewolves.

There is no bloodthirsty madness in their bones, only a desire for a normal life.

It is this taste of life that Douglas brings.

Chapter 406 Remus Lupin: The Man Who Sold Hope

Lupin had picked up a wooden spoon at some point and was serving soup to the children, his movements gentle and patient.

He would carefully crush the large pieces of chicken with a spoon, blow them to cool them down a bit, and then hand them to the children.

The children were a little afraid of him as a stranger at first, but were soon won over by his gentle eyes and the irresistible bowl of food.

They sat around Lupin, sipping their soup in small sips, like a group of little animals that had found shelter.

The little girl raised her head and looked at him curiously: "Uncle, are you also... one of us? I can smell the scent on you, but it's very faint..."

Lupin nodded gently.

Marco looked at this scene with complicated eyes.

He saw his people, and the color returned to their faces and the light in their eyes rekindled.

He walked over to Lupin and sat down with him.

"Thank you, Mr. Lupin."

Lupin shook his head. He looked at a little girl who was licking the bottom of a bowl, with a hint of tenderness in his eyes that he himself did not even notice.

"I used to be like them." Lupin's voice was soft, but it reached Marco's ears clearly.

"I'm afraid of the moon, afraid of myself, and feel like every blood in my body is cursed."

"Every full moon feels like torture. It's like your bones are being broken one by one and then pieced back together again. That kind of pain makes you feel like death is a relief."

Marco nodded silently. This was a language that all werewolves understood.

"But not now."