"So… sir, what is a wizard?" Harry asked Adrian Wesson, nervousness edging his voice.
Wesson came back to himself and looked at the puzzled boy before him, smiling faintly.
It was obvious Harry already knew he was different.
"My name is Adrian Wesson, and I"m a wizard," Wesson said gently, with a touch of warmth. "Put simply, a wizard is someone who can use magic—like I did just now."
He waved his wand, indicating his clothes and hair, which were already dry.
To make it clearer, Wesson used another spell.
"Incendio!"
A fleck of fire-red shot from the tip of Wesson"s wand.
Harry"s heartbeat quickened as he watched the flame leap in the air.
"Can I do that as well?" he asked, his face flushed.
"Of course you can—unless you"re a complete fool," Wesson said with a shrug, then added, "But you"ll have to wait until you"re eleven. You"ll receive your letter from Hogwarts then."
"Hogwarts?"
"A school of magic," Wesson went on. "A place where you learn magic. You"ll like it there."
Harry stood there, stunned.
He was a wizard!
All at once he remembered: only a little while ago, he"d talked to a snake—and made a pane of glass vanish at the zoo.
Was that magic too?
Seeing Harry frozen in place, Wesson patted his shoulder.
Everyone who knew Adrian Wesson knew he was a friendly, kindly wizard who never stinted on goodwill—
especially towards those who were themselves decent and promising.
If the Harry before him was anything like the one described in the books, Wesson was more than willing to lend a hand.
"Mr Potter," Wesson said softly, "are you all right?"
Harry blinked and nodded.
"Come on, let"s go outside and talk. This isn"t the best place for a chat." Wesson steered Harry towards the entrance; the door opened of its own accord.
In the next instant, Harry found himself back in the little plant shop where this had all begun.
Under Harry"s astonished gaze, Wesson tapped the standing door with his wand.
The door began to fold in on itself; after a few neat folds, it had become a suitcase.
Wesson set the suitcase on the table.
"Sit down, Mr Potter. I know you must have a lot of questions."
He gestured to the chair opposite.
"Just call me Harry, Mr Wesson," Harry said obediently.
For some reason, he found this stranger very easy to trust.
"Tea? Or milk?"
Before Harry could answer, Wesson said, "Milk, I think. It"ll help you grow taller."
Even for a ten-year-old, Harry was painfully undersized.
Wesson rapped his knuckles on the suitcase-door. "My dear, one black tea and one milk, please."
A moment later, the case opened from within.
Two tendrils of Devil"s Snare uncurled, carrying a glass of milk and a cup of tea.
Harry took the milk in both hands.
"Er… thanks."
Before it withdrew, the Devil"s Snare gave Harry"s hair an affectionate pat.
"Looks like it"s taken a shine to you," Wesson said.
…
Wesson spent the next while patiently answering Harry"s questions about wizards.
Harry mentioned the odd things that had happened to him.
Growing back his hair after an awful haircut; making an entire pane of glass vanish; shooting up into the air standing on a rubbish bag…
"That"s probably accidental magic, Harry. Every young wizard goes through it."
"Accidental magic? Sir, did it happen to you as well?"
"Ah, let me think… oh, I remember. I was about ten. My sister had used up my favourite green paint, so I turned everyone"s hair green—except my father"s."
The memory made Wesson chuckle.
For the record, Wesson"s father had been bald.
Harry relaxed at the answer.
He"d thought strange things only happened to him.
At the same time, a shadow crossed his face.
Wesson"s mention of family tugged at memories he"d rather not touch.
If his parents were still alive, perhaps his aunt and uncle wouldn"t be able to treat him so cruelly…
Time slipped by; before he knew it, it was noon.
"Oh no!"
Harry sprang to his feet.
He"d completely forgotten he was supposed to buy chocolate for Dudley.
He was going to catch it from his aunt and uncle, Harry thought.
Even so, he had no regrets.
Compared to what he"d learned today, a scolding from the Dursleys was nothing.
"I have to go home now, Mr Wesson."
Harry looked reluctant to leave.
Wesson nodded and flicked his wand; an umbrella sailed over the counter into Harry"s hand.
"See you next time, Harry."
After Harry left, Wesson fell thoughtful for a while.
Harry Potter, was it?
A well-behaved child—that was Wesson"s first impression.
Beyond that, he hadn"t sensed anything especially unusual.
"Right then. Time to get to work."
Wesson climbed down from his chair, picked up the suitcase on the table, and tossed it to the floor.
The instant it struck the ground, it turned back into a door.
This was Wesson"s own portable door; when it needed to be hidden, it became an ordinary suitcase.
He stepped through the door, crossed the greenhouse, and came out onto open turf.
Wesson"s plantation was a broad meadow ringed by woodland.
In the centre of the grass stood three immense greenhouses.
The one Harry had blundered into was one of them.
And at the very heart of the space rose a tall oak.
It was about 20 metres high, its branches spreading in all directions like a giant hand.
What drew the eye was the sheen of green along those limbs, pulsing gently as if it breathed, as if it had a heartbeat.
This was the Tree of Wisdom—
Adrian Wesson"s masterpiece, eight years in the making.
As for what it did…
"Eldra," Wesson said in his mind, calling the Tree of Wisdom by name. "Show me my current status."
The branches of the Tree of Wisdom swayed; green light throbbed slowly, like a heartbeat.
A message flowed into Wesson"s mind.
[Name: Adrian Wesson]
[Occupation: Wizard]
[Condition: Slightly fatigued]
[Ability: Plant Mutation Control]
[Magic reserves: 98%]
…
Yes—this was the Tree of Wisdom"s function: it could sense and analyse information from the environment around Wesson and send it to him as if it were a status panel.
At first it could only show his name; as it grew, it revealed more and more.
In a sense, the Tree of Wisdom was like an omniscient god.
Its origin lay in Wesson"s unique gift, Plant Mutation Control.
Any plant he handled might undergo "mutation".
Eldra, the Tree of Wisdom, was one such mutated creation.
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