"Little Green, I told you—you're always talented, no matter what you do."
At the entrance of the greenhouse, Senior Bruce hummed a cheerful tune, sounding like he was talking to himself.
There were so many rumors about this upperclassman that Sean sometimes felt it was perfectly believable that Bruce had secretly sprinkled Tickling Powder on Lockhart without anyone noticing.
The real question was—how did Bruce figure out that Professor Lockhart was a fraud?
Before his exposure, even the staff treated Lockhart with at least a bit of respect.
Like now—Professor Sprout didn't even try to throw Lockhart out. But after Bruce stepped inside, her warm smile never faded again.
She turned toward Sean and asked:
"Today we'll be repotting Mandrakes. Who can tell me one of their properties?"
Fresh from the holiday break, the young witches and wizards were all mentally blank. Thankfully, Herbology had an unwritten tradition: if you didn't know the answer, just look behind you—because quiet little Sean Green would always know.
"Mandrakes, also known as Mandragora, are a powerful restorative ingredient," Sean answered.
"They're used to return someone who's been transfigured or cursed back to their original state."
"Excellent answer! Right, everyone? Let's give Mr. Green a round of applause. He reminds me quite a bit of myself back in my Hogwarts days."
Lockhart jumped in immediately. Like a peacock in love with his own feathers, he never missed a chance to show off.
But this time, the applause he expected… didn't come.
"Excuse me—are you saying Sean Green?" Michael couldn't help grinning.
The young witches and wizards exchanged strange looks. Slytherins didn't usually care much about Lockhart, but now they were all giving him disdainful looks.
Malfoy even laughed out loud.
Did this guy know what he was talking about?
Even his father wouldn't dare belittle that Green now.
"Of course! A brilliant young wizard—perhaps he'll catch up to my legacy someday," Lockhart continued smoothly, giving Sean a "supportive" look.
"Ohhh, so you're the up-and-coming genius personally acknowledged by Headmaster Dumbledore. Professor, we've really underestimated you," Michael said dramatically, nudging Terry beside him.
Terry, who was busy counting Mandrake leaves like his life depended on it, mumbled without looking up:
"Right… according to this… you're way more impressive than Dumbledore was at your age…"
Lockhart jolted. At Hogwarts, the one person he didn't dare compare himself to was the Headmaster.
"Well, if we were trapped in a phone booth with a werewolf, even Dumbledore wouldn't have handled it better than I did. Want the details? I wrote it all down in my book.
Come on now—who remembers? 'Wandering With Werewolves'. A little secret for you: reading heroic books written by heroic wizards can be very useful."
His long-winded bragging no longer worked. Even the girls who once looked at him dreamily now avoided eye contact, faces full of doubt.
By comparison, Sean Green shared many traits with Lockhart—
Brilliant. Knowledgeable. Published his own work.
But unlike Lockhart, Sean's accomplishments were real and recent—and everyone had seen them with their own eyes.
And more importantly, Dumbledore himself had recognized him.
Lockhart experienced his first true moment of awkward silence at Hogwarts. Ravenclaws ignored him, Slytherins scoffed, and even Lockhart finally noticed that Sean seemed… special.
"Oh, I meant—oh—oh—OH—!"
Suddenly, he scratched himself all over, unable to even form real words. He stumbled around like he was doing some frantic tap-dance and bolted out of the greenhouse.
Just outside, Bruce was still waiting.
"Oh dear, Professor, you've brushed against a Tickling Vine. You know about those, don't you?" Bruce said innocently.
"Of—of course I do! If it hadn't ambushed me, I would've subdued it in two minutes—"
It took Lockhart a full moment to force out a coherent sentence.
Inside the greenhouse, every student stared wide-eyed. Some of the girls who once adored Lockhart blushed with embarrassment.
"What a shame," Bruce said with exaggerated concern. "I'm sure you could've handled it perfectly."
"Naturally—but right now—"
"Let me help you! Getting close to someone as accomplished as you has always been my dream—"
"Good lad—but what are you sprinkling on me?"
"You should already know, Professor. This is the antidote powder for Tickling Vine."
"Then why am I still itching!?"
"The itching means it's working!"
Professor Sprout closed the greenhouse door, tactfully giving Lockhart some privacy even in his humiliation.
"Very good answer—ten points to Ravenclaw," she said.
"Mandrakes are a key ingredient in most restorative potions. But they're also dangerous. Who can tell me why?"
…
Without Lockhart disrupting everything, the Herbology class flowed smoothly.
Sean expertly pulled a screaming Mandrake from the soil—an ugly baby with greenish skin, spotted all over, its leaves growing straight from its head. It shrieked at the top of its lungs.
Michael and the others crowded around Sean's worktable. Meanwhile, across the greenhouse, a deep red plant covered in thorns kept reaching out toward students with its tendrils, scaring them into screams.
"The compost is in the bags over there—and careful with the Venomous Tentacula, it's growing fangs today," Professor Sprout reminded them.
[You have processed a Mandrake with professional proficiency. Herbology Skill +10]
Every plant had its own quirks, and Sean genuinely loved them. Naturally, he worked faster than anyone else.
By the end of the lesson, the young witches and wizards were all sweaty, sore, and covered in dirt. After heading back to the castle to shower, the Ravenclaws hurried off to Transfiguration.
Passing the greenhouse on the way, Lockhart was standing there pale and drenched in sweat, but forcing a big grin.
"Oh, children, after great effort, I have subdued the Tickling Vine! I trust you all managed well in the greenhouse—after I took care of the plant, of course!"
Some Ravenclaw girls gave him a quick glance before rushing off.
Lockhart didn't even realize how foolish he sounded—he was too busy loudly explaining his "anti–Tickling Vine" methods.
"That plant was fake, wasn't it?" Sean said.
"Of course it was fake. But someone has to believe it's real—otherwise it'd be too embarrassing.
And speaking of fakes…"
Bruce winked.