When Char's name was called, the Hufflepuffs erupted in the loudest, most enthusiastic applause of the day. Of course, given that Char had been in solitary confinement for three full weeks, their applause was not meant to put any pressure on him.
Hannah, Susan, and the other girls who were close to him whispered encouragingly, "Char, you missed three weeks of classes. Don't put any pressure on yourself. Your Transfiguration will always be the best in our hearts."
A smile touched Char's face as he looked at his housemates. "Don't worry," he said, his voice full of a quiet confidence. "This year, it's not just the Quidditch Cup and the House Cup. The best in Transfiguration will also be from our house."
The certainty in his words sent another wave of deafening applause through the room, which in turn made Hermione even more nervous. Could it be, she thought, her heart pounding, that he's also mastered Tolman Transfiguration?
Even Professor McGonagall had a look of surprise and doubt in her eyes. Tolman Transfiguration was much more difficult to master than Gamp Transfiguration. It required a high level of magical perception, which in turn required a certain degree of innate talent. First-year wizards rarely trained their magical perception consciously, though a few precocious, talented students, like Hermione, could reach the required level through deliberate practice. But Char's talent was not high. And he had been in confinement for three weeks. Even with ample time, mastering Tolman Transfiguration without guidance would be an incredible feat.
But regardless of her doubts, Professor McGonagall clapped her hands, her expression expectant. She was not a narrow-minded professor. Although Hermione was a student in her own house, Char was her student as well. If he could demonstrate an even higher level of skill, she would be nothing but pleased.
Char grasped his wand and waved it lightly, his movements possessing a sense of ease and fluidity that seemed almost effortless. The matchstick in front of him dissolved into a puff of ocher smoke, which then began to condense again, re-forming in the blink of an eye into a small, perfect badger, the symbol of Hufflepuff House. The little creature landed on the desk with a confused look on its face.
The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws gasped in surprise. Hannah and Susan couldn't help but reach out and gently touch the small badger. It felt exactly like a real one. "It's alive?!"
Hermione's face was a mask of pure shock. This was Gamp Transfiguration, but on a level far beyond her own.
Professor McGonagall couldn't help but gasp. Char's skill in Transfiguration was far greater than it had been before his confinement. She remembered the gift Lucius Malfoy had given him—the Serpensortia spell—and understood. In those three weeks, Char had not been idle. He had not been satisfied with simply mastering the spell; he had painstakingly studied its underlying principles. A wave of emotion washed over her. Such a mature, hardworking boy. It was an incredible accomplishment, even more difficult than Hermione mastering both Gamp and Tolman Transfiguration at the same time.
But Char wasn't finished. Before his time with the Shadow, he had not even been at an entry-level with Tolman Transfiguration. But in the past two days, he had shuttled through the shadow dimension countless times, personally feeling the transformation of magic from one property to another. Even a pig would have learned something from such an experience. And his foundation in Transfiguration was already incredibly solid. The principles of Gamp and Tolman Transfiguration were similar, and he had grasped the basics of the latter on his first day of shadow travel. Now, his skill in that area was on par with his Gamp Transfiguration. This was why the word "Transfiguration" on his system panel now shone with a rich, bronze color. If not for the limitations of his magical perception, it would have already been glowing with a silver light.
The Tolman Transfiguration Hermione had demonstrated was remarkable for a first-year student. But in Char's opinion, while it was commendable, that was all it was.
The next moment, he flicked his wand. The small badger dissolved into smoke, which then twisted and condensed into a patch of pure shadow on his desk. Finally, the shadow shrank and solidified, reforming into the shape of a matchstick.
Professor McGonagall looked thrilled, all her previous dissatisfaction with the Gryffindors forgotten. "Turning into a shadow?" she exclaimed. "I really don't know what goes on in that head of yours! I hadn't even thought of such a transformation! What a genius idea!" She praised him generously, awarding Hufflepuff another thirty points.
Then, she made an announcement. "Hermione Granger and Char Sprout. Your excellent performance has earned you an exemption from this year's Transfiguration final exam. You also need not attend Transfiguration classes for the rest of the school year. However, everyone else must still come to class." She then called out a few of the Hufflepuff students, including Hannah and Susan. "Your Transfiguration has improved, but not enough to be exempt from the exam. However, you will not have to write the short essay. Prepare well, and you will do fine on the final. As for the rest of Gryffindor House—" Professor McGonagall gritted her teeth, her expression one of deep disappointment. "Your essay word count will be doubled!"
A wave of grief washed over the Gryffindor students. Char's eyes lit up. This was a wonderful surprise. If he received his pioneering permit, he would be spending a great deal of time cultivating his new land. Not having to attend Transfiguration or write an essay would free up a significant amount of his time.
Professor McGonagall began to point out the problems with the Gryffindors' Transfiguration one by one. Char estimated that it would be a long time before she had time to answer his own questions. He could always visit her in her office later. So, after saying goodbye, he left the classroom amid the envious gazes of his classmates.
Hermione wanted to leave as well, but she hesitated, her gaze falling on Professor McGonagall. The professor, who had always paid close attention to this student who was so much like herself, noticed her look. She temporarily stopped "torturing" the Gryffindors and waved Hermione over.
"Hermione," she asked quietly at the classroom door, "is there something you want to ask me?"
Hermione nodded, her face full of a sense of loss. "Professor, I don't understand. In Muggle school, I always got first place in everything. I won every competition. But here… I am working harder than ever before, even resorting to some… tricks. But I still can't beat him. And the gap is even getting wider." Her heart broke a little as she said the words. "What's the difference between us? Is my talent so much worse than his?"
Professor McGonagall fell silent. After a long moment, she smiled bitterly and sighed. "Hermione, what I am about to say should not be used to judge a student. You must not mention this to anyone else. It is a very serious matter."
Hermione nodded, and Professor McGonagall's expression grew serious, a deep sense of emotion and regret in her eyes. "In fact, Char's innate talent is far inferior to yours. It is not even as good as any other student at Hogwarts. In his first week, all the professors felt sorry for him. Such a hard-working child, destined to have little success in magic. To be honest, I didn't think he could master Transfiguration at all. I was even prepared to help him with the exam, just to get him a passing score. It's not that he isn't smart enough, or doesn't work hard enough. It's just that… God was too cruel and unfair to him. I never thought he could achieve such a level."
Hermione's eyes widened, her mind reeling. She could hardly believe what she was hearing. "What Malfoy said about his talent… I thought it was just a rumor. Is it actually true? Is his talent really just a step above a Squib's? How is that possible? Then… how did he do it?"
Professor McGonagall looked in the direction Char had gone, as if she could still see his retreating figure, a boy who never wasted a single moment. Her heart was full of a strange mixture of pity and admiration. "It must have been an indescribable effort and pain, with gnashing teeth and tearing flesh. I can't imagine how much that child has had to sacrifice every step of the way."
The words hit Hermione like a physical blow. She remembered Char's behavior, always in such a hurry, as if there were endless tasks waiting for him. The corners of her eyes began to sting, and she couldn't help but wipe them. A moment later, a new determination shone in her eyes. She gritted her teeth.
"If he can do it, then I can do it too. My efforts are not enough. I need to work harder. Time… I need to make more time." She quickened her pace, almost jogging away toward the library. Her dignity would not allow her to fall so far behind a boy with such limited talent.
Professor McGonagall watched her go, a worried and hesitant look in her eyes. It seemed Hermione was quite upset. But she shook her head, dismissing the thought. "A first-year student can't handle something like a Time-Turner. At least wait until third year. If she is still stuck on this then, we will see." She returned to the classroom and resumed her guidance of the remaining students.
At the same time, Char was walking toward his aunt's office. He had already sent his request for land to the Ministry. According to his contract, they were obligated to provide him with all the resources he needed for Herbology. With the contract witnessed by Dumbledore himself, there shouldn't be any resistance. Now, it was time to start thinking about what to plant.
"The newly reclaimed fields, even with fertilizing potions, will be far less fertile than the greenhouse soil," he thought. "It's unlikely they can support Silver-level reward plants like the Guardian Tree. Even Bronze-level plants might be a struggle. So, my choices should focus on plants that offer Black Iron-level rewards, preferably varieties that are hardy and resistant to disease and pests. That will save a lot of trouble."
His gaze also fell on his [Magic Perception Enhancement]. It would take a long time to break through to the Platinum level, and many of his spells were currently blocked by this bottleneck. He needed to prepare for a rainy day. It was imperative to tame more trolls, which brought him to the key issue: food. A troll consumed a huge amount of food. While they could hunt for themselves, the time they wasted doing so would slow down the maturation of their symbiotic goldfish plants. It was best to plant something that could meet their needs. "I wonder if I can find plants that meet my requirements," he mused.
He opened the door to his aunt's office, and the scene that greeted him was a complete shock. Densely packed storage compartments now lined the walls, thousands of them. In each small compartment was a small bag of seeds and a detailed introduction. A letter from his aunt was on the desk.
"Dear Char,
I have something important to attend to. I know you're thinking about cultivating the land, so I have prepared a large supply of seed samples for you. You can take your time to choose and let me know what you want to plant."
Char's expression was moved. So many seeds, such detailed introductions… the effort it must have taken was immense. It had only been two days since he had mentioned his plan to her. He took a deep breath, his eyes determined. He would not waste her efforts. This year, the Quidditch Cup and the House Cup would belong to Hufflepuff. And his aunt's greatest obsession, Antonin Dolohov… he had to die.
The former would be relatively easy. The latter… his current strength was still lacking. To be sure of killing Dolohov, his combat strength needed to be at least close to Snape's. To achieve that, he had to plant.
He calmed his turbulent emotions and walked toward the storage compartments, checking the seeds one by one. With his aunt's introductions, the reward information for each seed was clearly visible. Many of the rewards were strange and bizarre. Finding what he needed among the thousands of plants was like looking for a needle in a haystack. But he had plenty of time and no lack of patience.
He slowly looked through the seeds and their corresponding information. As the night deepened, he came across a wrinkled seed with a strange smell. Suddenly, his eyes lit up.
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