"Professor Sprout."
When they reached her, Bruce—so boisterous on the way—suddenly turned meek.
"Oh—Mr. Bruce Dickinson, Mr. Leon Howard, Mr. Pister Jefferson. I'm so glad you're here to help," Professor Sprout said, beaming beneath a thick-patched hat. "A new seedling? Dear, lovely to meet you. What's your name?"
She set down the big shears she'd been using to trim Bubotuber tubers, bent toward Sean, and—without asking why he was there—peeled off her earth-stained dragon-hide gloves. Her warmth was like the kindly old lady who used to donate to the orphanage—though not a penny ever reached the orphans—yet Sean still respected the gesture.
"Sean Green."
Sean found himself growing a bit shy.
"Mr. Green, I'm delighted you're here to help as well. Mr. Dickinson, would you take him to work on the mature plants?" Sprout gave Sean's cheek a gentle pinch, then assigned tasks with brisk cheer. "Mr. Howard, the weeds are yours. And Mr. Jefferson, I'd like you to sort the asphodel by growth stage—that will be the first plant our new sprouts learn."
"Yes, Professor."
Sean saw Bruce roll up his sleeves and murmur assent; Leon said "no problem"; and Pister—if anything even more flustered than Bruce—just nodded hard, cheeks red.
Professor Sprout clearly held a special place in Hufflepuffs' hearts, Sean thought.
"I daresay you won't find a kinder professor than Professor Sprout. Every Hogwarts student is like her own child," Bruce said with a bright grin. "She's been voted 'most popular professor' for years… Now, let's tackle the mature plants. Looks like a big job!"
Sean nodded, and the two of them began weaving among the pumpkin-like giants, where pots of asphodel with purple-red petals were scattered.
"Let's harvest the mature asphodel first. Er—do you know how to tell when it's ripe?" Bruce asked, handing him a small pair of shears while he snipped.
Sean shook his head. That wasn't in the book.
"This is one of those things you can't learn from a page. I'll show you."
He leaned over a pot, sniffed, then—snip—cut the stalk. "Asphodel has a faint muttony scent. When it's mature, that smell is stronger. Try it."
Sean bent in and inhaled. Sure enough, different stages had different scents, and the one Bruce picked carried a richer, sheepy note.
Bruce smiled. "Mature asphodel raises the success rate of Invigoration Draughts. Immature asphodel can ruin them. That is the charm of—Herbology."
The words opened the very door Sean had been groping for. He nodded and dove into the work.
They moved like nifties hunting treasure—sniffing here, checking there. As they worked, Sean's feel for picking ripe asphodel grew keener.
Bruce, tall and dark-skinned, looked rather like a burrowing marmot at it; Sean, quick and fine-featured, like a cat slipping through the grass.
"About enough—let's process the asphodel," Bruce called, hefting a bag of stalks.
"Right."
Sean watched as Bruce fetched two silver knives and a ladle-like strainer from a tool pile near the outer wall.
"Asphodel prep has a lot of pitfalls. In short, think 'three-section method.' Watch."
As he spoke, Bruce cut each stalk into three segments, then used a different cut on each—finer toward the tip, and finally even pressing with the strainer-like tool.
"Asphodel essence isn't distributed evenly, so you treat each section differently. Your turn?"
Sean nodded and took the tools.
[You processed one asphodel at Apprentice standard. Proficiency +1]
His mouth twitched upward and his hands flew faster.
[You processed one asphodel at Apprentice standard. Proficiency +1]
[You processed one asphodel at Apprentice standard. Proficiency +1]
[You processed one asphodel at Apprentice standard. Proficiency +1]
The panel chimes kept popping; Sean's hands blurred.
"He might like Herbology a little too much," Bruce said, scratching his head, half laughing.
"Sean, Sean—listen. Time to do the dried nettles," Bruce cut in at last, impressed, and led him to a nettle patch. He no longer doubted the boy's enthusiasm.
"Dried nettles—ordinary plants, but with proper prep they become potion ingredients. As for the processing…"
…
Sean soaked up knowledge like a sponge.
[You processed one nettle at Apprentice standard. Proficiency +1]
[You processed one nettle at Apprentice standard. Proficiency +1]
Time slipped away like fine sand.
"Gentlemen—well done. Thank you for helping with our new sprouts," Professor Sprout's voice called, breaking Sean's flow. The last nettle in his hands—dripping pale blue juice from a special soak—was finished.
He listened in silence, then opened his panel:
[Herbology Insight: Locked (27/90)]
[Note: Herbology Insight covers the complete workflow—identification, processing, etc.]
Ninety to unlock—his first time seeing a threshold that high. Like stacking three Apprentice tiers together.
"Mr. Dickinson, you and Mr. Green saved our sprouts from being misled by deceptive 'mature' plants. Mr. Howard, you cleared the weeds beautifully. Mr. Jefferson—oh, how to praise you? Your asphodel sorting was meticulous."
Sprout's smile glowed like a hearth, warming each of them. "Come now, children—hazelnut chocolate for everyone."
Bruce let out an "aha!" and then clapped a hand over his mouth. Leon only shook his head; Pister grinned, still basking in the praise.
They filed down the narrow path. The greenhouse already looked much tidier: most harvests done by Bruce, the rest by Sean; the weeds gone; and the central asphodel pots neatly lined up by stage.
When Sean reached the professor, he tore his gaze away from the very tempting hazelnut chocolate by sheer will.
"Professor Sprout… may I come help at other times?" he asked, a little nervously.
~~~
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