Chapter 175. In the Forbidden Forest
In just over ten minutes, Wesson's mutagen had already pushed the beech tree before him halfway through its growth cycle.
Perhaps before long, under Wesson's influence, it would "mutate."
Wesson planned to transplant this tree into his own plantation when he had the time; it was well worth the effort.
In fact, Wesson hardly added anything to his plantation these days.
He was going for quality now; not every odd plant was qualified to enter his grounds.
Wesson patted the beech's trunk and let his magic radiate outward again.
In an instant, the beech quieted down.
Wesson felt like a nanny, tending to the plants around him.
And the beech in front of him was the one most eager to drink its fill.
However, Wesson couldn't stay here forever.
The cold wind picked up; Luna hunched her shoulders.
"Looks like it's time I went," Wesson patted the trunk and, whether or not the beech could understand, said, "Next time, I'll take you with me."
Wesson waved his wand; a warm orb drifted over to Luna and circled around her.
"What's this?" Luna tried to catch the sphere, but it slipped away, continuing to orbit her and radiate heat.
"My own Warming Charm. That should keep you comfortable," Wesson explained briefly, then beckoned to her and set off first in one direction. "I think we've still got time to visit the unicorns. I know where they live. In weather like this, they won't be out and about."
Few young witches or wizards could resist the allure of unicorns, and Luna, who was fascinated by magical creatures to begin with, least of all.
"Coming!"
Luna answered brightly and pattered after Wesson.
Wesson spent the entire morning with Luna among the unicorns.
Because she was a child, female, and pure of heart, Luna was very welcome among the herd and had a wonderful time.
Of course, Wesson didn't come away empty-handed either; he coaxed another great bundle of tail hairs from the unicorns.
Even in winter, those hairs were wonderfully sleek—unlike Wesson's own hair, which turned into something like a dandelion's pappus as soon as it got cold.
Even Lockhart's shampoo couldn't do a thing about it.
By noon, when they left the Forbidden Forest, Luna was clearly reluctant to go.
"Remember, Luna," Wesson said, nagging a little, "never go into the Forbidden Forest alone. It's dangerous. When you're walking in there, danger is always at your side—just like those few giant spiders I drove off just now. Of course, if you ever want a look around, I can bring you."
Luna nodded obediently.
To Wesson, Luna was a rare and valuable helper; he was naturally happy to meet a few small requests.
Early the next morning, Wesson took his suitcase-style portable portal and headed for the beech's location.
Transplanting was best done sooner rather than later.
Wesson had just reached the Forest's edge when he ran into Hagrid there as well.
Hagrid wore a greatcoat of some unknown beast's hide, a hatchet glinting coldly at his belt, and he was carrying a rooster that wouldn't stop flapping.
His bushy beard looked damp, as if he'd been out for quite a while.
"Mornin', Professor Wesson!" Hagrid's booming voice sent a few white birds fluttering from the trees. "What brings yeh to the Forest this early?"
"I need to gather a few things," Wesson explained. Hagrid nodded; that wasn't a strange reason at all.
Because the Forbidden Forest's ecosystem was well protected, you could often find wild, high-quality ingredients there.
Professors regularly came into the Forest to collect them.
For example, Severus Snape, who taught Potions, often paid the Forest a visit.
"Oo—oo—oo—!"
Just then, the rooster in Hagrid's hand suddenly crowed at the top of its lungs and tore free of his grip in a flurry of wings.
"Blimey!" Hagrid fumbled after it. "Get back 'ere, yeh little rascal!"
In the end, Wesson cast Incarcerous and bound the rooster.
When Hagrid had it firmly in hand again, Wesson asked, puzzled, "What are you doing with a rooster?"
"On account o' that monster in the castle," Hagrid said, lowering his voice as he glanced around. "I heard a rooster's crow is the one thing a Basilisk fears most."
A rooster's crow… Wesson nodded.
Indeed, that was the rumour—when a Basilisk hears a rooster crow, it drops dead on the spot.
That was surely an exaggeration, though.
If any ordinary rooster could deal with a Basilisk, that would be absurd.
"What about that?" Wesson then pointed at the hatchet at Hagrid's belt.
"Oh, this," Hagrid patted it and grinned. "I'm thinkin' o' felling a suitable tree, buildin' a henhouse, and makin' a few chicken coops—you know, loads o' students have asked me for the same thing: a rooster. With what's left I can make a new chair, fix me hut's doorframe…"
"Sounds good," Wesson smiled. "Quite the project."
"Ain't it just?" Hagrid said, spirits high. "I've already found a good tree. I was just headin' there."
Seeing Hagrid's enthusiasm for the work, Wesson waved. "I'll be off then, Hagrid."
"See yeh," Hagrid set out as well.
However, they didn't separate; they were walking the same route.
A bad feeling rose in Wesson's chest.
Sure enough, after winding their way along, both of them stopped beneath the same beech tree.
"Hagrid," Wesson said, wearing a strange expression as he looked at the great tree, "you haven't got your eye on this one, have you?"
"Ah-ha, it's a good choice, innit?"
Hagrid strode up to the trunk, drew his hatchet, and measured out strokes against the bark. "A fine beech—pretty grain, excellent hardness and durability… perfect. She'll make a grand henhouse."
Wesson pressed a hand to his forehead, helpless.
What a coincidence, wasn't it?
As Hagrid was sizing it up, Wesson suddenly felt something odd.
From…the beech?
He looked up at the tree. Somehow, he felt a distress signal coming from it.
Just as Hagrid raised the hatchet, Wesson hurried forward to stop him. "Wait, Hagrid! You can't cut this one!"
"Why not?" Hagrid scratched his head in confusion.
"This tree is… special," Wesson had intended to rack his brains for a good excuse, but in the end he was honest. "I want to take this tree with me. It'll be of great use to me."
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