Charle's heart pounded with anticipation. If the rewards from planting Devil's Snare could be further amplified by the small silver bucket, then the benefits would undoubtedly be immense. Thinking of this, he quickened his pace and returned to the greenhouse.
Taking out the mutated Devil's Snare root from his Pregnant, Charle examined it closely. The wounds inflicted by Sectumsempra were gradually healing, and new branches were starting to sprout from the cuts. However, this regeneration was a slow process—it would take at least half a month before new branches could truly grow.
"I wonder if the small silver bucket will really work on the Devil's Snare."
"In any case, it's time to replenish its nutrients."
"Might as well use the silver bucket while I'm at it."
He placed the Devil's Snare root section into the small silver bucket. Then, he took out a bottle of Potion. With practiced precision, he cast a Levitation Charm, dispersing several drops of the Potion into a fine mist, letting it spread evenly throughout the bucket.
What happened next took him by surprise.
The misty Potion was absorbed by the Devil's Snare root like a rainbow drawing in water. Especially around the severed areas, swirling misty vortices formed. Charle had previously used atomized Potions, but never had there been such a reaction. The rate and efficiency of absorption were both dramatically improved, as if the Devil's Snare had suddenly developed an enormous appetite.
"It seems the silver bucket's ability to stimulate vitality really is extraordinary."
"It even works on Devil's Snare!"
He added two more drops, finally satisfying the voracious root.
Charle's gaze shifted to his system prompt to check if the rewards had updated. His expression turned slightly disappointed.
The change was there—but far less significant than expected. On the reward [Binding Control Charms Chain], only a few golden lights flickered sporadically. Meanwhile, the silver glow of [Fire Vulnerable Epidermis] merely brightened slightly. The enhancement was evident but far from a qualitative leap.
"Well, it's still something."
"If it accumulates over time—and with more plants—the effect should become significant."
Charle consoled himself. Any free benefit, no matter how small, was still a net gain. And since the bucket affected the Devil's Snare, it might also work on his other magical crops.
Without delay, he tested it on Piranha Algae and the Guardian Tree.
Unexpectedly, the Piranha Algae showed no reaction at all.
"But the Guardian Tree responded positively. Its reward also increased slightly."
He experimented with several other magical plant seeds and soon discovered a pattern: the silver bucket's effects only applied to land-growing plants. Aquatic plants were unaffected.
"What's the principle behind this?" he muttered, confused.
Charle scrutinized the bucket's remaining inscriptions—ancient runes and half-worn patterns—but couldn't make sense of them.
After a while, he sighed and gave up.
"Forget it. A magic illiterate like me can't understand this."
"I'll just have to ask someone knowledgeable one day. For now, I'll make do."
Refocusing on the Devil's Snare, Charle knew the next stage required speed: new branches would take time to grow, so the initial preparation needed to be thorough. Though the Potions from the Ministry of Magic hadn't arrived yet, his current stock would be enough to process several primary nodes.
Dawn had broken, but there was still time before class.
Instead of eating or relaxing, Charle chose to keep working on the Devil's Snare. He believed in using fragmented time effectively—the compounded effort would yield unimaginable rewards.
He began casting Sectumsempra again and again.
Each cast demanded intense concentration. Sectumsempra was powerful—one misstep could shred the entire root instead of cleanly severing the epidermis and magical nodes. Controlling the spell's force precisely drained his mental energy, and soon, sweat trickled down his forehead.
But the results showed. The silver glow representing Sectumsempra on his system panel steadily brightened.
Seconds ticked by. Eventually, Charle expanded the root's primary nodes to over twenty. By then, his last Potion bottle was empty.
He exhaled deeply.
"That should do it."
"The number of primary nodes has reached the threshold for the next stage."
"Now, it just needs to be planted. Then we wait for new branches to grow, process the secondary and tertiary nodes, and continue to the next growth phase."
"Hopefully, the Ministry's Potions and experimental field quota arrive soon—maybe in the next two days."
Charle glanced at the time.
"Almost class time. What's first today?"
"Transfiguration… with Gryffindor?"
He headed out, mentally organizing the day's classes. Realizing Transfiguration was first, his eyes lit up.
Charle had always done well in Herbology and Charms, but Transfiguration, the subject most reliant on innate talent, had long been a struggle. He could only say that if forced to perform it, he might manage. But until now, it hadn't worked.
In the original series, even by the final battle, Harry and Ron never used Transfiguration in combat. Only Hermione used it sparingly. That alone showed how difficult it was. Even Professor McGonagall's requirements were light: passable essays and theory were enough for a pass. There was no practical assessment.
Throughout the entire first year, being able to turn a match into a silver needle was already considered excellent.
So far, only Hermione had achieved it.
Previously, Charle could barely make the match twitch. But back then, his Charms mastery, magic perception, and core strength were far inferior to what they were now.
"I should be able to do it now."
"And it's time to really prioritize studying Transfiguration."
He regarded the subject as more vital than even Charms. It was, in his view, the core of magic. In the original story, powerful wizards like Dumbledore, Grindelwald, and Voldemort were all masters of Transfiguration.
Until now, Charle lacked both talent and resources to dive into it. But with his recent advancements, he had no excuse.
Besides, the upcoming sub-topic on the Whomping Willow and Shadow Thorns would require proficiency in the Disillusionment Charm, a skill rooted in Transfiguration.
Lost in these thoughts, he quickly arrived at the Transfiguration classroom.
Ding-a-ling.
The class bell rang. Professor McGonagall's authoritative gaze swept across the students.
"I know the first class after Christmas break is tough," she said sharply, "but since you're here, I expect your full attention."
"No one will be sleeping in my class."
Even Neville, halfway through a yawn, straightened immediately. That was McGonagall's presence—no one dared slack off.
Satisfied, she began reviewing Transfiguration's basic theories. She'd explained them countless times. But she had no choice: the subject's difficulty meant even the basics were hard to grasp.
Still, even if only a few could absorb more through repetition, the long-term benefits were immense. So McGonagall kept teaching—patiently and tirelessly.
But today, Charle experienced the lesson differently.
The once-baffling theories now started to make sense. Vague concepts became clearer. Surprisingly, many of these Transfiguration principles aligned with insights he'd gained from his platinum-level Charms.
"Microscopic."
Charle's expression became serious, a thoughtful gleam in his eyes.
"Transfiguration begins at the microscopic level."
"Turning a match into a silver needle isn't a trick—it's about fundamentally altering the object's properties."
"In my past life's terms, it's like changing an object's molecular or even atomic structure."
"No wonder it's so hard—and why its potential is so high."
"To even start learning it, you need platinum-level skill in basic Charms."
"No wonder Transfiguration's upper limit is insane."
"It's like a basic attack that's equivalent to a finishing move in other forms of magic!"
His mind erupted with inspiration. Professor McGonagall's current lecture, past class essays, the Half-Blood Prince's textbook, and debates among magical experts all surged like magma in his thoughts.
Inspiration. Countless flashes of it.
Suddenly, McGonagall introduced a subtle principle that struck Charle like lightning.
Unable to contain himself, he stood up and shouted:
"Wonderful. Simply wonderful!"
His classmates turned, startled. Daydreaming students snapped to attention. Hannah whispered, "Charle?"
Charle came to his senses. "I'm sorry, Professor. What you just said was so profound, I couldn't help it."
McGonagall gave him a peculiar look.
"Charle," she said, "what exactly did you find so profound?"
Charle explained. He shared insights drawn from Charms, woven into Transfiguration theory. His interpretation was so intricate that even Hermione furrowed her brows in confusion.
Harry and Ron exchanged stunned glances.
"Wasn't he just as bad at Transfiguration as us?" Ron whispered.
"How did he surpass Hermione?" Harry replied.
After Charle's explanation, Professor McGonagall's expression lit up.
"Charle," she said softly, "take out your wand. Try transforming a match into a silver needle—or anything at all."
Charle nodded. Holding his white ash wand, he focused deeply.
Microscopic.
"Change it from within."
"You need a firm will to reshape the object—to guide the magic."
He tapped the matchstick.
A flash of light.
It transformed into a shiny silver needle.
Gasps echoed across the room.
Aside from Hermione, no one else had done it before. Everyone had assumed the next success would come from a Ravenclaw.
But Charle? From Hufflepuff?
Excitement rippled through the classroom.
Charle stared at the silver needle in his palm. It felt like he had just opened a vault full of treasures. A strange sensation flowed back through his wand.
"And it's not just this," he whispered.
"I can do more."
Raising his wand again, he began performing continuous transformations.
A lighter. A teapot. A birdcage. Even anime figurines from his past life—all appeared one by one.
He was utterly immersed.
Only when the class bell rang did he snap out of it.
And from every direction, eyes were fixed on him—like he was a mythical being.
Then, Professor McGonagall began to applaud.
"A perfect Transfiguration performance!" she declared.
"Charle, your comprehension of Transfiguration far exceeds anyone else's in the first year."
"For that, Hufflepuff earns twenty points!"
The room erupted in applause.
Charle's heart pounded—not for the points, but because his system panel had just changed dramatically.
Every platinum-level Charm now glowed more brilliantly than ever before.
And a new ability had appeared
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