"Eldera," Vinson said quietly, "show me your current information."
The air shimmered faintly in front of him, and a translucent panel appeared.
[Name: Eldera (Tree of Wisdom)]
[Species: Oak]
[Level: 3]
[Traits: Object Analysis, Soul Connection]
[Status: Growing (1%)]
When Vinson saw the information, he froze for a moment, his brows knitting together in confusion.
For three full years, the Tree of Wisdom's growth progress had remained firmly stuck at 0%. No matter what he tried—extra nutrients, refined magic, rare soil, or specialized care—the progress bar never moved.
And now… it had increased.
By one percent.
"What… what's going on?" Vinson murmured, his hand gently resting against the rough bark of the tree.
"Eldera," he whispered softly, "tell me. Why did your growth progress suddenly advance?"
The branches of the Tree of Wisdom swayed slowly, and a faint green light flickered across its leaves. A few seconds later, a message appeared directly in Vinson's mind.
[Reason: Unknown]
Vinson let out a quiet breath. Even the tree itself didn't understand.
He leaned back slightly and began to replay everything that had happened recently, analyzing each detail in his mind.
He hadn't changed the soil.
The water source was the same.
There were no new fertilizers.
No rare magical catalysts.
Then, a single name surfaced in his thoughts.
"Harry…"
Harry Potter.
The boy who had accidentally wandered into his plantation just a few days ago. The protagonist of this world. The child who carried a strange, dormant aura of destiny.
Could Harry's presence have triggered some kind of reaction within the Tree of Wisdom?
Vinson tapped his fingers lightly against the trunk.
"So… when should I invite Harry over again?" he murmured.
A week passed.
Because he had failed to buy Dudley's favorite chocolate, Harry was locked inside his "room."
Although calling it a room was generous. It was actually a cupboard under the stairs.
Harry lay on the thin mattress, staring blankly at the low, cracked ceiling. The air was stale, and the wooden walls felt like they were slowly closing in on him.
His fingers fidgeted absentmindedly at his side as he silently counted the days.
Seven months.
Only seven more months until the Hogwarts acceptance letter was supposed to arrive.
Ever since he learned that he was a wizard, he had clung to that future like a lifeline. Hogwarts had become the only thing he looked forward to.
Knock, knock, knock.
A faint sound broke the quiet.
Harry's heart skipped. For a moment, he thought his imagination was playing tricks on him.
The Dursleys never knocked.
They would usually just yank the door open and shout orders at him.
Knock, knock, knock.
The sound came again—slow, deliberate, and real.
Harry frowned and stood up, carefully opening the cupboard door.
The hallway was empty.
No Vernon.
No Petunia.
No Dudley.
He frowned, just about to close the door, when a sudden gust of wind swept through the corridor.
In the blink of an eye, a cream-colored envelope appeared in front of him, floating gently through the air before settling into his hands.
Harry's heartbeat thundered. He tore it open without hesitation.
Inside was a neatly written letter.
Dear Harry,
I am Adrian Vinson. We met a few days ago. If you still remember me, I would like to invite you to visit my plantation again.
I believe you will be curious about the things here, and I also have some matters I would like to share with you.
If you are willing, please come to the plantation at one o'clock tomorrow afternoon.
I look forward to your arrival.
Adrian Vinson
Harry stared at the letter, his chest tightening with excitement.
"One o'clock tomorrow…" he whispered.
His excitement quickly faded, replaced by a familiar heaviness.
The Dursleys would never allow him to go out. They especially wouldn't allow him to visit a stranger's house.
He would have to sneak out.
Fortunately, luck seemed to be on his side that day.
The next afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley went out to attend a loud, boring party and wouldn't be back until evening. Dudley left the house at eleven in the morning.
With his heart pounding, Harry slipped out of the house.
He walked toward Vinson's plant shop, feeling a strange excitement bubbling inside him as he congratulated himself on his courage and luck.
When he entered the potted plant shop, the layout looked almost the same as before. The shelves were still lined with strange greenery, and the air smelled of damp soil and leaves.
But one thing had changed.
The mysterious door that once stood in the middle of the shop had been moved to the far corner.
As Harry approached, the door opened on its own with a soft creak.
Thin green vines slowly emerged from the darkness.
Harry froze.
Devil's Snare.
He recognized it instantly, and his scalp tingled.
Last time, those vines had dragged him inside without mercy.
He braced himself, expecting to be yanked off his feet at any second.
Instead, the vines began to move strangely, twisting and weaving together in midair.
A few moments later, two words appeared, formed clearly out of living vegetation.
Please enter
The curves of the letters were surprisingly elegant.
Harry blinked.
Then blinked again.
"…They're polite now?" he muttered under his breath.
One of the vines gently nudged his shoulder, as if encouraging him.
"Thank you, Mr. Devil's Snare," Harry said awkwardly, stepping forward.
Beyond the door, the world changed.
The interior was still a greenhouse, just as he remembered. Warm, humid air wrapped around him. Sunlight filtered in through glass panels above, casting golden reflections over countless leaves and stems.
Strange and unfamiliar plants filled every corner of the space.
"Harry, welcome back," Vinson's voice called from ahead.
Harry turned and saw him standing near a loose patch of soil. Before him was a neat row of identical green plants that looked like grass.
Except this "grass" was taller than Harry.
Seeing the confusion on Harry's face, Vinson explained calmly, "This is Demiguise. It's a medicinal plant often used in potion-making. It has very strong healing properties."
Harry stared.
He had seen pictures of Demiguise in books before. They were supposed to be small, short herbs, not towering stalks.
Ordinarily, Demiguise could only grow to half a meter at most.
The plants in front of him were at least a full meter tall.
Vinson flicked his fingers lightly, and invisible information flowed into his mind.
[Species: Demiguise]
[Level: 1]
[Trait: Gigantism]
[Status: Mature]
"It's growing well," Vinson said, nodding to himself.
This was naturally the result of his Mutation ability.
By combining a specially prepared potion with his unique guiding magic, he could create Demiguise plants that developed rare traits such as "Gigantism."
According to his tests, Essence of Murtlap extracted from this mutated Demiguise was slightly more effective than normal.
He plucked a few Demiguise leaves and held them between his fingers.
Then, without warning, he gently but firmly pulled Harry closer and rolled up the boy's sleeve.
Harry stiffened in surprise.
His arm was covered in bruises—dark purplish-blue marks blooming across his skin.
Vinson frowned.
"Honestly," he said quietly, "it's worse than I expected."
Harry lowered his head, his voice almost too soft to hear.
"How did you know, sir?"
Vinson gave a small, gentle smile.
"This is nothing for a wizard."
In truth, he had already checked Harry's condition through the Tree of Wisdom.
[Name: Harry Potter]
[Profession: Wizard (Young State)]
[Status: Minor Bruises]
…
"It might sting a little," Vinson warned.
He crushed the Demiguise leaves in his palm, releasing their dark green juice, and carefully spread the mixture over Harry's injured arm.
Harry felt a faint itching sensation spread across his skin. It felt as if countless tiny ants were gently crawling over the bruises.
"It's… a little itchy," Harry said, frowning.
Thin strands of green smoke began to rise from the paste. That was the Demiguise taking effect.
"The effect is quite good," Vinson said, clearly satisfied.
Harry nodded slowly. Although the sensation was strange, he could feel the pain fading almost instantly.
He looked down.
The bruises were gone.
Not a single mark remained.
His skin looked completely healthy, as if nothing had ever happened.
"This… this is amazing," Harry whispered, unable to hide his awe.