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Hogwarts: The Plants I Grow Will Mutate Chapter 46-50
🕑 Added 2025-10-08 07:27:14 +0000 UTCChapter 46. Professor Sprout
After chatting idly with Dumbledore for a while, Wesson finally stated his purpose.
“Professor, I’d like to ask whether you would allow me to include it in the practical portion of Care of Magical Creatures.”
Wesson’s tone held a touch of caution; after all, the Thunderbird’s special nature made the matter somewhat sensitive.
“Why ever not?” Dumbledore looked surprised. “You have my full support, Wesson. Hogwarts will not interfere with your teaching unless—your students suffer serious injury. But I rather doubt that will happen; your abilities are well known.”
Wesson was a little taken aback; he hadn’t expected Dumbledore to put it that way, but he still asked, “Will the Ministry of Magic allow it? Keeping a protected magical creature in private seems illegal.”
“This is not private keeping,” Dumbledore said with a smile and a wink. “Let me think… You’re keeping the Thunderbird because Hogwarts requires it for teaching purposes, aren’t you? The Ministry will surely agree. It’s entirely reasonable—and lawful!”
“All right, Professor, you’re right.”
Wesson let out a long breath. It seemed he’d been looking at it too narrowly.
Dumbledore cared not a whit that he was raising a Thunderbird.
He didn’t even appear to care about the Ministry.
Then again, that was only normal—this was Dumbledore!
If he wished, the entire Ministry would have to bend to his will.
Dumbledore also stroked the little Thunderbird’s neck—predictably, the little Thunderbird wasn’t afraid of him at all.
“How does it feel to be teaching at Hogwarts?” he asked with a smile, still stroking.
Wesson froze for a moment, then shook his head. “In fact, I’m not sure yet.”
“Not sure?” Now it was Dumbledore’s turn to be puzzled. “What’s happened?”
“Because I haven’t had a class yet; my first lesson is this afternoon,” Wesson paused, then went on, “Professor, I think we could consider increasing the number of Care of Magical Creatures lessons. It may be an elective, but......”
Increase the number of lessons?
Dumbledore indicated that he had never heard such a request.
After Wesson had talked at length about the importance of Care of Magical Creatures until his mouth was dry, Dumbledore finally couldn’t tolerate any more.
“Perhaps you could set up a club devoted to Care of Magical Creatures.” Leaving those words behind, he gave his wand a wave and “invited” Wesson out of the office.
Wesson felt a gust of wind carry him to the corridor outside the office.
That, too, was within Wesson’s expectations.
At Hogwarts, Care of Magical Creatures was roughly the equivalent of physical education in an ordinary school.
Important, but not that important.
Schools might add more academic classes, but they rarely add PE.
So Wesson’s suggestion about increasing lessons was just talk.
Besides, the Hogwarts timetable was already rather full.
Leaving the Headmaster’s office, as Wesson was walking down the corridor thinking about a name for the little Thunderbird, he suddenly slapped his forehead.
He had left the little Thunderbird behind in the Headmaster’s office.
.....
When lunch ended, Wesson was invited by Professor Sprout to her greenhouse.
On the way to the greenhouse.
“Do you remember back when you were a student?” Professor Sprout said as they walked. “You’d often come help me look after the herbs, then beg me for a few seeds...... Ah, when you get old you start thinking about the past.”
“That really helped me a great deal, especially during my later travels,” Wesson said with a smile, and added, a touch regretfully, “In fact, I’m very sorry I never came to visit you after I graduated, Professor.”
At Wesson’s words, Professor Sprout’s eyes curved into slits as she smiled, and she reassured him, “Oh, that’s nothing to worry about, Wesson. So long as what you learned from me proves useful, that’s enough.”
By then they had reached the greenhouse door.
Professor Sprout’s greenhouse and Wesson’s plant nursery were two entirely different styles.
The greenhouse was filled mostly with herbs that required painstaking care, and it included quite a number of plants that were extremely precious outside. With many of them, the slightest misstep made survival difficult.
Wesson’s plant nursery, on the other hand, had basically everything; common and rare alike were planted together as he pleased. As for whether they would survive—that was up to fate.
However, owing to the special nature of Wesson’s magic, the survival rate was passable; indeed, with each generation, the plants’ vitality tended to grow stronger and stronger.
It was just that some plants went awry as they grew; for example, those highly poisonous dittany—who would have thought that life-saving dittany would suddenly turn into a poison?
.....
“Do come in.” Professor Sprout pushed open the greenhouse door, then took a pair of thick dragon-hide gloves from a nearby shelf and handed them to Wesson. “A new batch of Fanged Geraniums has just arrived; their roots happen to need a bit of work. You’ll help me, won’t you? Just like before.”
“Fanged Geraniums?” Wesson raised an eyebrow, took the gloves, and put them on with practised ease. “I hope I still remember how to do it.”
Despite what he said, Wesson hadn’t forgotten.
Wesson had always kept the methods for tending plants firmly in mind.
For him, looking after plants was like riding a bicycle—once learned, never forgotten.
A moment later.
“You’re still as quick as ever,” Professor Sprout said, nodding as she watched Wesson deftly tend to the Fanged Geraniums. “It seems you haven’t let yourself go to seed after graduation.”
As he trimmed the Fanged Geraniums’ roots neatly, Wesson said with a laugh, “Of course not, Professor. In fact, I’ve been running a plant nursery all along, to store the magical plants I found on my travels.”
“Heavens, you never told me that!” Professor Sprout looked at him in surprise. “And now? How is your nursery doing?”
Wesson lifted his chin with a touch of pride. “If there’s a chance, I’ll take you to see it.”
“Then I’ll look forward to your invitation, Professor Wesson,” Professor Sprout said, finishing with the last of the Fanged Geraniums and wiping the sweat from her brow. “Thank you so much; otherwise I doubt I’d make it in time for my afternoon class.”
Preparing for lessons had her run off her feet.
Wesson took off the dragon-hide gloves and set them aside. “You can, as before, pick a few students to help.”
At that, Professor Sprout smiled easily. “That won’t do, Wesson. Not every student has your talent. I might end up having to clean up after them.”
“If you don’t have students, I can always come help you,” Wesson said with a shrug. “Just like before.”
Professor Sprout looked satisfied, but still shook her head. “Professors are far busier than students.”
Chapter 47. On the Contract of Names
As a required course, Herbology at Hogwarts meets three times a week.
That meant Professor Sprout had a heavy teaching load almost every day.
Adrian Wesson couldn’t help wondering how she arranged her timetable—judging by the number of lessons, Professor Sprout hardly seemed to have any time to rest.
“Ah, right,” Professor Sprout seemed to recall something and turned to Adrian. “About Harry Potter…”
Hearing Harry’s name from Sprout’s mouth, Adrian tensed at once, like a parent at a school meeting whose child’s name has just been called.
“What is it?” he asked. “Did something happen in your class? Did he get into trouble?”
“Oh, don’t be nervous, Professor Wesson.” Professor Sprout waved a hand, entirely at ease. “In fact, Harry performed very well in class—one could even say a bit too well.”
“Too well?”
“Yes.” Professor Sprout nodded, tidying the tools in the greenhouse as she spoke. “I’m guessing you’ve taught him. When it comes to cultivating dittany, he already works like an old hand.”
“Really?” Adrian narrowed his eyes and allowed himself a satisfied smile. “What else?”
Being told that his student was doing well naturally pleased Adrian.
Professor Sprout adjusted her hat with a half-amused, half-helpless look. “Also, he complained that my dittany doesn’t grow as well as yours.”
“…”
Adrian remembered: his dittany carried a “gigantification” trait. By comparison, ordinary dittany did look a little less impressive.
That said, what Professor Sprout grew was already among the best one could find on the market.
“In truth, Harry was clumsy at first as well. He’s just… had more practice,” Adrian said, shaking his head as he recalled. “He drops by occasionally to help me tend the herbs—dittany included.”
Professor Sprout raised an eyebrow. So that was it—she had thought Harry exceptionally gifted.
If Adrian had taught him these things, then everything made perfect sense.
At that, she couldn’t help feeling a touch of disappointment.
“All right, I should get going,” Adrian rose to his feet. “I need to prepare for my afternoon lesson with the third-years.”
“Best of luck with your first class, Professor Wesson,” Professor Sprout said with a smile, clapping the soil from her hands.
“Thank you.” Adrian nodded, straightened his cuffs, and left the greenhouse.
…
The first class that afternoon was Care of Magical Creatures with the third-years—Adrian’s first lesson.
Nearly all of the third-years had chosen Care of Magical Creatures.
Adrian understood why.
It was one of the most relaxed courses, and the end-of-term exam wasn’t difficult.
Most people chose Care of Magical Creatures for the outdoor activities—to stretch their legs and escape those bothersome test papers and essays.
In the past, Professor Kettleburn would bring in all sorts of magical creatures for students to handle.
Of course, some were dangerous or rare, but so long as things were done properly, students wouldn’t end up hurt.
With that in mind, Adrian decided that for his very first lesson he would take the young thunderbird to… show off—show it to the class.
After all, thunderbirds were uncommon. Even at a young age, a thunderbird already possessed the ability to summon storms and lightning.
That looked rather impressive.
…
When Adrian returned to his office, he didn’t see the young thunderbird anywhere and guessed it must be in the plantation.
The little thunderbird preferred perching in that lightning-struck elm rather than lingering in a cramped office.
Adrian flicked his wand, and the suitcase in the corner sprang open.
Then he gave a whistle beside the case.
Before long, the young thunderbird poked its head out of the suitcase, eyes glinting with a faint wariness.
Upon seeing Adrian, it ruffled its feathers and the wariness vanished at once.
“Come out, little one.”
Smiling, Adrian held out his hand. The thunderbird hesitated, then sprang lightly onto the desk, claws gently catching his sleeve as it nuzzled his wrist with a touch of coquettishness.
Though still juvenile, the thunderbird had grown to about the height of a first-year child, and it cut quite a figure.
After several rounds of feeding, the thunderbird had grown familiar with Adrian.
“A name, a name…”
Adrian looked at the young thunderbird, fingers tapping the desktop as he fell into thought.
To be honest, he wasn’t good at naming things. In the past, when he named his pets…
Forget it—better left unsaid. It wasn’t funny.
After a moment’s consideration—
“All right, then…”
Adrian muttered, lifting his wand solemnly and giving it a wave.
The air warped slightly. A thread of golden light flew from the wand and slowly condensed into the outline of a single letter.
“Rai!”
Adrian called out the name he had prepared.
The instant the word left his lips, the thunderbird’s feathers shivered. It snapped its head up smartly to stare straight at Adrian, then gave a clear, ringing cry.
In that instant, Adrian felt as though something new had settled upon him—linking him to the thunderbird before his eyes.
It was a very peculiar feeling.
“This is…”
“Eldra?”
Adrian had the Tree of Wisdom analyse the young thunderbird’s current state.
[Name: Rai]
[Species: Thunderbird]
[Status: Contracted (Adrian Wesson)]
…
A contract?
Adrian hadn’t expected that.
Could a mere name involve a contract?
And what effect did this contract have?
While Adrian was still wondering, Rai spread its wings and shot round the office in a swift circuit, chirping twice in delight and, in passing, knocking over a water jug on the desk.
When it settled back beside Adrian—
“So that’s it.”
Before naming, Adrian had only been able to judge Rai’s mood by its movements and cries.
Now, he could clearly feel Rai’s excitement and elation.
“Looks like you approve of this name.”
Watching Rai hop about the office, he couldn’t help a faint, inexplicable joy.
“Very well,” Adrian looked down at it. “I’ll take you out this afternoon for a bit of a stroll.”
…
The second period that afternoon was Care of Magical Creatures.
The lesson would take place on the lawns by the Black Lake.
When Adrian arrived, the students were already chattering noisily across the grass.
It was the third-years’ first time attending Care of Magical Creatures.
In the distance, one of the Weasley twins looked up, noticed Adrian, and called out eagerly, “Professor, what are we learning today?”
Seeing all the curious faces turned his way, Adrian smiled. “You’ll know once class begins. Today’s content is a little special.”
Chapter 48. Thunderbird Rai
Adrian Wesson gathered the students on a stretch of open ground by the Black Lake.
“Do you think he’ll teach better than Professor Kettleburn?” one of the Weasley twins said to the other.
“Idiot!” his brother rolled his eyes in disgust. “We’ve never taken Professor Kettleburn’s class!”
“Ah, right… we’re only in third year.”
“…”
Wesson decided to ignore the two redheads clowning about.
He clapped his hands to draw everyone’s attention.
“First,” Wesson gave all the students a quick smile, “I have a few notices. No one is to approach the magical creature we’re about to see without my permission. Also, put your wands away—we won’t need them for this lesson. Using a wand rashly will only land you in unnecessary trouble.”
The students immediately began whispering among themselves, but they did as told and tucked their wands back into their pockets.
Seeing this, Wesson nodded in satisfaction.
Then he raised his fingers to his lips and gave a clear whistle.
In an instant, it was as if an invisible force churned the clear sky. Clouds massed from all directions and blotted out the sun.
The Giant Squid in the Black Lake also surfaced, thrashing about uneasily.
Before the students could react, a searing white bolt split the sky. A low peal of thunder followed, startling everyone.
“Professor!” a student shouted. “It’s going to rain!”
The next second, a figure of a sharply contrasting colour punched through the clouds and plunged down.
While everyone stared, slack-jawed, Rai circled once in the air, then alighted lightly beside Wesson, folding his wings and dipping his head.
Wesson reached out to stroke the Thunderbird’s neck and the corners of his mouth lifted. “Who can tell me what magical creature this is?”
In fact, a Thunderbird was quite easy to identify—no one was going to find a second bird in nature with two pairs of wings.
“Thunderbird, Professor,” a student shouted, excitedly.
Wesson glanced at the student.
Hmm—Hufflepuff.
“Hufflepuff, five points. However, sir, remember to raise your hand next time.” He nodded cheerfully, generously awarding points to his own House.
At this, a fresh wave of discussion rippled through the students.
“Quiet,” Wesson took a few steps forward, bringing Rai closer to them. “Everyone, this is the focus of today’s lesson—Thunderbirds. And his name is ‘Rai.’ Ah, I nearly forgot to say—he’s only recently hatched, so he may be a bit mischievous.”
He paused, then added, “Of course, his temper isn’t all that bad… at least better than some of you.”
The students’ chatter grew livelier. After all, this was an XXXXX-class magical creature.
Even if some didn’t know much about Thunderbirds, they certainly knew about dragons.
That Thunderbirds shared a class with dragons naturally spoke to how special they were.
The Weasley twins were standing at the front of the group, closest to Rai.
One of them eyed the bird, a gleam of eager curiosity in his gaze.
Fred edged forward carefully, reached out a hand, and tried to approach the Thunderbird.
Rai merely cocked his head and gave a low call.
Fred’s hand was still hanging in mid-air when—
“Boom!”
A bolt of lightning exploded by his side, leaving a scorched black mark and a faint smell of burning.
“Merlin’s beard!”
Fred leapt back, stumbled, and landed on his backside, face pale.
The other students also recoiled in fright.
Wesson watched the scene at his leisure, raised his eyebrows, and said lightly, “Very good, Mr Weasley. It seems you paid no attention at all to what I said at the start. You’ve just experienced Rai’s way of giving a warning.”
Fred swallowed, trembling as he looked at Rai, who still stood there with perfect poise.
Of course, Wesson would never allow Rai to actually harm the students. That lightning just now had been a little joke.
If a student really got struck, his career as a professor would probably end early.
Wesson swept his gaze over the students, letting it rest on Fred for a moment, then said slowly, “The Thunderbird is exceptionally sensitive to danger. If you want to approach it, you must set aside every trace of ill will. And it isn’t only Thunderbirds—many magical creatures can keenly sense a person’s malice.
“So the very first thing you need to learn about dealing with magical creatures is how to rein in your ill will.”
A tall boy hesitated, raised his hand, and asked cautiously, “Professor, how exactly should we do that?”
Wesson looked at the speaker and realised it was the Hufflepuff who had first identified the Thunderbird.
“Good question, sir,” Wesson nodded in satisfaction, then asked, “What’s your name?”
“Cedric Diggory, Professor,” the Hufflepuff student answered.
“All right, Mr Diggory, would you come to the front?” Wesson said with a smile.
Cedric did as Wesson asked, obediently walking to the front to stand between Wesson and Rai.
He glanced at the Thunderbird, then at his fellow students, and seemed a little nervous.
“First, you need to understand that ‘ill will’ isn’t just your thoughts—it includes your emotions, your body language, even the rhythm of your breathing betrays your state. Thunderbirds are extremely sensitive to such details. That’s one reason they’re so keenly attuned to danger.”
When Wesson finished, he patted Cedric on the shoulder and handed him a piece of Honey Nougat he’d “borrowed” from Professor Dumbledore. “Relax, Mr Diggory. Your task now is to get Rai to accept the sweet in your hand.”
Cedric looked at the Honey Nougat and swallowed, nervous.
He trusted Wesson wouldn’t put him in danger, but that bolt Rai had just called down still left him uneasy.
Wesson, of course, was familiar with the name Cedric Diggory.
An excellent, brave student with a strong sense of justice.
And a Hufflepuff to boot, which raised Wesson’s opinion of him even higher.
It was a pity that, in the original story, he seemed to have lost his life in the end.
Cedric carefully extended his hand, holding up the sweet, eyes fixed intently on Rai.
Chapter 49. The First Lesson
In fact, Adrian Wesson had set the difficulty of this test according to each individual.
Since every student had a different personality, temperament, and appearance, the difficulty of reining in one’s malice would naturally vary.
For example, most Hufflepuff students were very friendly and patient.
That was an innate advantage when it came to interacting with magical creatures.
As a quintessential Hufflepuff, Cedric had no trouble at all.
When he took one step after another towards Rai, Rai showed almost no sign of wariness and smoothly accepted the sweet in his hand.
“Excellent, Mr Diggory. Hufflepuff gets five points,” Wesson said, nodding in satisfaction, applauding as he praised him.
“Just call me Cedric, Professor,” Cedric replied happily.
He had been a little nervous at first. After all, according to the books, Thunderbirds were very dangerous creatures.
But things had gone far more smoothly than he’d imagined.
Next, Wesson had the students in the back take turns, using different foods to feed Rai.
With Cedric’s smooth start, the others seemed encouraged and began approaching Rai one by one.
However, for some students, the process was not so simple.
For instance, a certain Gryffindor who had almost been struck by lightning just now.
Perhaps his rash first approach had made Rai extra wary of him.
Each time Fred took a step towards Rai, Rai retreated a step.
In the end, Fred could only scratch his head helplessly and look at Wesson, a little embarrassed.
“Clear your stray thoughts, Mr Weasley,” Wesson reminded him. “A small suggestion: imagine yourself with a troll’s brain—it’ll be much easier.”
“Just think of yourself as a half-wit, Weasley,” a student nearby said with a laugh. “Abandon your brain. You won’t be needing it.”
Fred rolled his eyes and snapped at the nearby student, “Thanks for the tip.”
That said, he still did as told; his gaze shifted, and in an instant it went vacant.
Suffice it to say, he was highly talented when it came to making himself look dim.
When he came up to Rai again, Rai didn’t retreat. After watching him for a few seconds, at last, he stretched out his sharp beak and carefully took the food.
Fred let out a breath of relief.
In truth, for most magical creatures, those with pure hearts were more likely to gain their recognition. That was why Wesson had suggested the students empty their minds.
As it turned out, it worked.
By the end of the lesson, almost everyone could approach Rai without trouble.
A few students could even stroke his feathers.
At last, Rai gave his wings a slight shake. A single feather fell from him and landed right by Cedric.
“Huh?”
The students stared at the feather in surprise—especially Cedric, who almost instinctively bent down and picked it up with great care.
“Professor? Is this…?” he asked, looking at Wesson with some uncertainty.
Wesson glanced at the feather, smiled slightly, and announced in a clear voice, “Congratulations, Cedric. This is Rai’s first moulted tail feather. The fact it chose to let you find it shows it recognises you highly.”
At those words, the students turned envious looks his way.
They didn’t know exactly what the tail feather could be used for, but it didn’t take much imagination to know it had to be an extremely precious magical material—like a phoenix feather.
Cedric clearly understood how valuable this feather was, to say nothing of it being Rai’s very first.
“Thank you, Rai,” he said softly, full of sincere feeling.
Rai let out a light cry in response.
Having done all this, Rai suddenly beat his wings, turned into a streak of light, shot up into the sky, and vanished into the clouds at once.
Watching Rai disappear so quickly, the students looked at one another.
Only Wesson knew that Rai had probably been overfed and stuffed, and needed to find a place to digest.
“All right, that’s it for today’s lesson,” Wesson clapped his hands, drawing the students’ eyes back to him. “I hope you’ve learnt something today. Remember, most magical creatures can sense other people’s emotions and thoughts to some extent. Restrain your stray thoughts and you’ll be better able to approach them—and Thunderbirds are especially so. Then, as for homework…”
The students were still basking in the excitement of getting so close to a Thunderbird, but the moment they heard the words “homework,” their expressions turned stiff.
It seemed that no matter the era or the place, homework was never popular with students.
“Relax,” Wesson said with a smile, waving his hand. He deliberately paused before continuing, “There’s no homework this time.”
After a brief silence, the students burst into cheers.
“But—” Wesson drawled on purpose, cutting short their celebrations, “I need each of you to choose a few magical creatures you’re interested in, write them on parchment, and hand it to me before the next class.”
The cheers faded a little, replaced by soft muttering.
Cedric was carefully studying the Thunderbird tail feather in his hand, his face still bright with joy. On hearing Wesson’s words, he looked up, a little curious and expectant. “Professor, the magical creatures we write on the parchment—will you bring them for us to see?”
At this, the surrounding students fell silent for a second.
Hearing Cedric’s question, Wesson’s lips quirked up as he announced, “Of course.”
The students grew excited again at once and began heatedly discussing which magical creatures to choose.
“What should we pick, Fred?” George pumped his fist, excited. “Dragons, how about that? I’ve only ever seen them in the photos Charlie sent us, never in real life.”
“Dragons? Oh, Merlin, do you want Professor Wesson thrown in prison?” Fred rolled his eyes. “I think Acromantulas would be better. Little Ron will love it…”
“I’d like to see a Demiguise. I heard its hair can be woven into Invisibility Cloaks…”
Hearing their chatter, Wesson’s raised smile froze slightly.
This year’s students were up to no good.
He cleared his throat lightly and added, “Limited to creatures of ‘XXX’ classification and below!”
At that, the students’ enthusiasm cooled a notch.
Though a bit disappointed, they still excitedly discussed which magical creatures to choose.
Chapter 50. Inside Hagrid’s Hut
By Friday, time had come round again.
For Harry, life at Hogwarts was growing more and more fulfilling.
At first, he’d worried he wouldn’t be able to keep up with the other students.
After all, before he met Adrian Wesson, he’d known nothing about magic.
But once classes began, he realised it wasn’t like that at all—even most students born to wizarding families hadn’t received much formal magical education before starting school.
Never mind those, like him, who came from the Muggle world.
He was even ahead in a few subjects.
Still, he didn’t get cocky.
Because he found that even students touching magic for the first time could do better than he did.
For example, the girl he’d met on the train, Hermione Granger, successfully cast the Levitation Charm in the very first Charms lesson.
What’s more, her wandwork and incantation both looked more practised than his.
And he’d had to practise for the better part of half a day before he managed to make a feather wobble up from the desktop—and that was with other witches and wizards coaching him.
And not just in Charms, but in Herbology, Transfiguration...
Merlin, she was brilliant.
Aside from that, Harry had thought he’d stand out in Potions—Adrian had taught him the most about potions, after all.
However, that Potions Professor called Severus Snape……
While Harry was lost in thought, he finally arrived at Hagrid’s hut.
As for why he was here—it was because he’d received an invitation from Hagrid to come by for tea.
By the way, he’d brought Ron along.
Harry raised his hand and knocked lightly on the door.
Heavy footsteps sounded at once from inside; then the door was yanked open and Hagrid’s enormous silhouette filled the doorway.
“Come in, Harry!” Hagrid grinned, his thick beard giving a little tremble. His eyes slid to Ron beside Harry. “And another one of the Weasley lot, is it?”
Ron nodded timidly.
Hagrid’s hut had only one room; though not large, it felt comforting.
There was a big bed in the corner, next to an oversized wooden table and chairs, with teacups and a heaping plate of oddly shaped biscuits on top.
Er… at least they looked like biscuits, and not something else.
Unexpectedly, there was already someone else in Hagrid’s hut.
“Professor!” Harry blurted, staring in surprise at Adrian Wesson seated in a chair.
Adrian was bowing his head over a rock cake, working his teeth across its surface.
The thing might as well have been some stone reinforced by magic—after all that biting, he’d only managed to grind off a bit of powder.
Hearing Harry’s voice, Adrian looked up and forced a somewhat stiff smile.
His jaw ached from all the chewing.
“Oh, Harry, you’re here,” Adrian said, sounding relieved. “And Mr Weasley.”
“Er… hello, Professor.” Ron offered a small greeting, his eyes straying to the cake in Adrian’s hand.
Seeing this, Adrian casually broke off the untouched piece and handed it to Ron; then, while Hagrid went to pour the tea, he stuffed the bitten piece into Fang’s mouth under the table.
Before long, Hagrid came back with a teapot, urging them on warmly: “Go on, sit, sit. I’ve just brewed a fresh pot—Professor Wesson brought the tea leaves! There are biscuits on the table—don’t be shy, help yourselves!”
As he spoke, he poured each of them a cup of tea.
Since Adrian had claimed the chair, Harry and Ron chose to sit on the edge of Hagrid’s big bed.
As for the biscuits, the three of them silently agreed to ignore them.
“Professor, what are you doing here?” Harry asked curiously.
Adrian picked up his teacup, blew on it, and said offhandedly, “Hagrid invited me. He’s desperate to know how Torch is doing lately.”
“Who wouldn’t love Torch? Ah, that little darling……” Hagrid said, full of envy.
In fact, over the summer, Hagrid had written to Adrian almost every few days, all about Torch’s condition.
Hearing that name, Ron’s brow creased. He nudged Harry with his elbow and whispered, “Torch? What’s that?”
Harry lowered his voice as well: “A baby dragon.”
Ron’s mouth fell open so wide you could almost have fit a whole rock cake in.
Seeing Ron’s shocked look, Harry couldn’t help but smile and went on, “Professor Wesson keeps a dragon at home. When the holidays come, I can take you to see it.”
Ron’s expression immediately turned complicated.
How… how could Harry talk about keeping a dragon as casually as keeping a dog?
Was it his understanding of dragons that was off?
Adrian took a sip of tea and said unhurriedly, “Torch is growing fast—Lupin’s been looking after it all along. Of course, it still can’t fly, and it can’t even breathe fire yet, but its scales are much tougher and its appetite’s grown.”
Hagrid’s eyes shone. “That’s brilliant! It’ll be a magnificent dragon!”
…..
Besides dragons, they talked about many other things.
Like why the new Professor Quirrell reeked of garlic; how Adrian’s first class had gone; and why the caretaker, Argus Filch, was always hounding the students……
At last, Harry brought up his Potions class.
“Hagrid,” he called out as Hagrid was roaring with laughter at one of Adrian’s dry jokes, “about Potions……”
“What is it?” Hagrid turned at once, sounding a bit anxious. “You didn’t do anything in Potions class, did you?”
Harry frowned, thinking for a moment, then said in puzzlement, “I feel like Professor Snape has it in for me. In class, he asked me loads of questions. I actually got a lot of them right, but not only did he not give me any points—he kept finding excuses to take points off.”
Hagrid’s face altered a little, not quite naturally. He stroked his beard and mumbled, “Er… that’s just Snape. He’s strict with all the students.”
Ron immediately curled his lip and muttered under his breath, “He’s not strict with the Slytherins.”
“What did he ask you?” Adrian suddenly perked up. Since Harry was his student, it would be terrible if he couldn’t answer basic questions.
Harry thought for a while and said, “First, what do you get if you add powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”
“The Draught of Living Death, Harry,” Adrian said at once. “I taught you that.”
“And then where to look for a bezoar, and what’s the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane.” After finishing, Harry added, “I answered all of them—even added a few different kinds of aconite. But Professor Snape still docked me a point.”
“……”
Adrian fell silent for a moment and suddenly had the urge to see Snape’s face at the time.
It must have been quite a sight.
