The greenhouse was warm and cozy.
All kinds of plants were thriving in here.
As Sean walked toward the right-hand corner of the greenhouse, he could see Neville and Justin guiding Hermione as she worked with simple plants in Greenhouse One.
They moved beneath the hanging flowers—blooms that dangled from the ceiling, nearly as big as umbrellas.
"Heart-shaped round leaves, fuzz on both sides, fine serrations along the edges… that's Feathergrass.
It's an essential ingredient in beauty potions,"
Justin explained.
Hermione nodded.
Neville didn't talk much. He only offered a few words when it was time to work:
"Pick the ones where… the fuzz is about the same length as the serrations…"
With the two of them leading her, Hermione learned fast.
Professor Sprout watched the scene with a beaming smile, then glanced at Sean on the path. She'd seen a sight like this a year ago, and she still never got tired of it.
In the greenhouse, things like this happened year after year.
Professor Sprout was probably the most respected—and most loved—teacher in all of Hogwarts.
Her greenhouses were always open to students who loved nature.
Like Neville and Justin, for instance: hardworking enough to have a key to Greenhouse One.
And like Sean—who even had a small greenhouse space of his own, tucked into the far-right corner.
Right now, he stood there inside a fenced-off work area, surrounded by vivid, lightly fragrant blossoms. These were his lavender plants. After some special treatment, they could be used to make Sleeping Draught.
Besides that, he grew nettles, mistletoe, daffodils… and recently, aconite as well.
These herbs were ingredients for the ordinary antidotes, Scabies Cure, Swelling Solution, Deflating Draught, and other potions Sean brewed.
The moment he stepped into his work zone, a notebook popped up over his head. Held in place by a floating wooden frame, it lowered itself in front of him.
It was Sean's practical lab notebook.
Because potion-making is so tightly linked to herbology, Sean didn't just have to recognize, cultivate, and preserve plants—he also had to learn all the different processing methods potioneering demanded, and carefully judge the condition of each specific plant.
It was tedious and time-consuming work, but Sean had been doing it relentlessly for over a year, and he'd left behind a notebook that the Hufflepuffs treated like scripture.
In terms of sheer breadth, it couldn't compete with the herbology reference books in the Hogwarts library.
In professional depth, it was blown out of the water by specialized books like The Carnivorous Tree Compendium and The Complete Guide to Poisonous Fungi.
And yet, it was still the Hufflepuffs' must-have, passed-down "house notebook."
Because it started from the perspective of the most talentless wizard imaginable, and gave detailed, practical, almost scientific guidance on how someone with zero gift could still learn Herbology.
It wasn't famous for being profound. It was famous for quietly spending over seventeen pages explaining a single common plant.
It wasn't famous for being rich in content. It was famous for updating nonstop for more than a year—growing from one hundred pages to seven hundred.
Maybe, just like the cover page said:
[Dedicated to every wizard who loves nature. Going to the greenhouse isn't required, and talent isn't required either. The moment you're willing to pick up a hoe, Herbology truly begins.]
But Sean's original draft hadn't been so poetic. His version was:
[Real herbology begins when you realize you have no talent—and still pick up the hoe anyway.]
Professor Sprout sometimes caught that line when Sean was deeply focused on his work. Every time she did, her warm smile got even brighter.
Greenhouse One had no real sense of time.
Sean tended his little section until it pulsed with life.
And in the process, the panel's proficiency kept ticking upward:
[You fully processed an aconite to a proficient standard. Proficiency +10]
[You fully processed an aconite to a proficient standard. Proficiency +10]
[Title: Herbology Scholar]
[Herb Recognition: Proficient (25700/30000)]
Exhausted, Sean finally slowed down. He could use magic to handle pest control, weeding, watering, and so on—but the careful identification, processing, and refining of his notes all required his own hands.
And as a second-year student, his energy was limited.
"Come over here, children—have some honey lemon water and rest a bit."
Professor Sprout was beyond satisfied. The stout little witch flicked her wand, and everyone received a cauldron cake, a shiny candy box, and a steaming cup of honey lemon water.
"My dear little bud, your mother told me you completed your Animagus transformation?"
Professor Sprout naturally tugged Sean aside, and the two of them stepped outside the greenhouse.
Inside, three Hufflepuff upperclassmen—Bruce and the others—had come to take a break too. They'd just handled Bubotuber, and they were smeared with thick yellow-green pus that reeked like harsh petroleum.
"Bruce!"
Leon knew what was about to happen the moment he saw Bruce dive for the little wooden snack table.
"Don't eat mine!"
Pist was worried too—because Bruce was absolutely the type to swipe food and leave them nothing.
"Next time I come to the greenhouse, my share's yours."
Bruce was already close enough to reach it.
At the edge of the snack table, Hermione stared in disbelief at the three sudden Hufflepuff upperclassmen.
"Don't mind it. It happens a few times every month."
Justin said with a helpless smile.
"Bruce is usually pretty serious at other times…"
Harry added.
"Mmhmm—yeah. As long as he doesn't run into other Hufflepuffs, or Sean."
Ron said through a mouthful of snacks, his words muffled.
"Damn it—your 'next time' has been prepaid all the way to graduation—"
Leon snapped.
He'd fallen for that line too many times.
"Alright then, wands out! Only the winner deserves the professor's reward!"
Bruce hadn't even finished when a spell shot at him.
Pist flicked his wand fast:
"Tarantallegra!"
Immediately, Bruce's legs started jerking uncontrollably, like he was doing a frantic tap dance.
"Pist… heartbreaking—you've learned to ambush people…"
In all the noise, Hermione didn't even know how to start talking to them.
She'd imagined all kinds of ways this could go wrong: the upperclassmen being hard to deal with, or it being some secret she wasn't allowed to know…
But she couldn't wrap her head around the fact that someone would duel over cauldron cakes.
Especially when food like that was everywhere in the Great Hall.
"It'll be fine in a minute."
Justin and the others were used to it. He even casually hid Sean's portion.
Because when there wasn't any danger around, Bruce would go looking for a way to create some anyway.
~~~
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