Chapter 291. Malnourished Bart
Adrian Wesson had only just poured the antidote down the Diricawl's beak and was about to take it away when a forlorn voice suddenly sounded by his ear.
"Master… did you not notice Bart?"
Startled by the sudden voice, Wesson spun round at once.
Behind him to the left, Bart's familiar face surfaced on the trunk of a beech tree.
However, something was odd. The once towering and imposing Bart was now only about a size larger than Hagrid, and the tree's branches and leaves were considerably sparser; a few yellowing leaves drooped listlessly.
"Bart?" Wesson walked up in surprise and stroked the rough bark. "What on earth…"
He hadn't expected that one sentence to set Bart off.
"Master hasn't come to see Bart for a long time," it complained in a wounded tone. "Bart counted the days every day! In the end Bart really couldn't wait any longer, so Bart had to come out on his own…"
Seeing Bart grow more and more aggrieved, Wesson was at a loss for words.
To be honest, he had indeed completely put Bart out of mind this summer holiday.
"Oh, my fault," Wesson apologised sincerely, then pressed his palm to the trunk, feeling Bart's feeble magical fluctuations. "How did you end up like this? I remember you were much taller before."
"The original body couldn't travel this far," Bart said, making a humanlike pout (if the twist of bark could be called a pout). "So Bart had to shrink the body and come all the way here."
At that, Wesson immediately asked the Tree of Wisdom to analyse Bart's current condition.
[Name: Bart]
[Species: Beech]
[Level: 3]
[Trait: Great Chieftain]
[Status: Growing (0%), Malnutrition (Severe)]
Seeing Bart's status, Wesson was momentarily speechless.
How had this blockhead managed to make himself malnourished?
Good thing he'd found him early. If Bart withered to death here, that would be disastrous.
Wesson at once ran to the greenhouses and borrowed (pinched) a good deal of Professor Sprout's special fertiliser.
Bart's root system greedily drove itself into the pile of fertiliser, and the entire tree trembled.
The special fertiliser sank at a speed visible to the naked eye, and in the blink of an eye turned into a heap of grey-white dregs.
"Burp—"
Bart let out a satisfied burp; two rosy patches bloomed on the trunk.
Wesson asked the Tree of Wisdom to check Bart's status again.
This time, the "Malnutrition" condition finally disappeared from Bart's status.
However, Bart still remained not much larger than Hagrid; the only change was that the leaves on his branches had turned a deeper green.
"Odd," Wesson said, puzzled. "Can you return to your former size?"
"Oh, this is quite good," Bart said cheerfully. "This way Bart can move about nimbly."
No sooner had he finished speaking than Bart slowly pulled himself up from the ground.
At the same time, his roots wound themselves into leg-like shapes, the main trunk began to reshape, the upper branches split into arm-like structures, and more distinct facial features surfaced across the bark.
In the blink of an eye, a three-metre-tall treeman stood before Wesson.
As Bart had said, in this form he could move nimbly.
Having completed the transformation, he immediately bounded over to Wesson and swept him into a crushing hug.
Wesson felt as if he'd been clamped between two moving oaken beams; the rough bark scraped his cheeks until they hurt.
"Oh, thank you, but you can let go of me now," he said with difficulty.
Beaming, Bart let go and promptly performed a backflip on the spot.
Wesson, seeing this, had no idea what to say for a moment—he had never seen a tree that could do a backflip.
Afterwards, Wesson tested various metrics of Bart's capabilities in treeman form.
The results shocked him.
Although Bart was now much smaller, his defence against physical attacks and his resistance to magic had both multiplied severalfold.
Wesson tried an unaugmented Bombarda; it could only leave a small mark on Bart.
Of course, Incendio remained Bart's weak point. The moment Wesson's wand spat fire, Bart bolted thirty feet away.
Still, Bart's combat strength was nothing to scoff at now.
In the end, when Wesson invited Bart to visit Hogwarts Castle, Bart balked.
"No, Master, Bart cannot leave this forest," he said helplessly. "Once Bart leaves, Bart will become an ordinary tree and all magic will vanish."
After hearing Bart's explanation, Wesson grew thoughtful.
Perhaps the Forbidden Forest itself was the source of Bart's power.
Moreover, Bart's "Great Chieftain" Trait seemed designed precisely for the Forbidden Forest, only able to affect the plants within. Wesson had once brought over a potted flower from Professor Sprout's greenhouse and set it beside Bart,
but Bart's "heteromorph agent" couldn't affect that flower at all.
"Never mind," Wesson consoled him. "I'll come see you often."
Bart nodded vigorously, the leaves in his crown swaying merrily, and his figure gradually faded into the depths of the woods.
Watching Bart's silhouette recede, Wesson couldn't help feeling a little sentimental.
Perhaps Bart would bring him even more surprises in the future.
5 September.
It had been four days since the start of term at Hogwarts.
The students were gradually settling into the new school year, and the first-years were growing used to losing their way in the castle.
At dusk, Wesson went to the Great Hall for dinner as usual.
However, when he pushed open the doors, a strange atmosphere washed over him.
The usual raucous clamour was gone; even the students' whispering was lower than usual. Most of all, at the Slytherin table the little snakes all wore gloomy expressions, as if someone had truly provoked them.
Professor McGonagall stood at the doors, her face equally grim.
"What happened?" Wesson walked up to her and asked in a low voice.
"Ah, it's you, Professor Wesson."
A look of helplessness crossed Professor McGonagall's face. "I imagine you've noticed the mood in here.
"Just now, Professor Moody and Professor Snape had a blazing row—nearly came to blows—right here."
"I see." Wesson nodded slightly.
In truth, though the incident was abrupt, it was understandable—Moody would hardly treat Snape, a former Death Eater, with any warmth.
"Quite disgraceful," Professor McGonagall said, brows knitting tighter. "They are both adults, and in front of students…"
"Er—yes," Wesson agreed off-hand. "There's not much to be done."
"Oh! Right!"
Professor McGonagall's eyes suddenly lit up. "Professor Wesson, you seem to get on with Moody—go and have a proper word with him, will you? At least keep them from fighting on school grounds."
"Me…?" Wesson pointed to himself, hesitant, thinking this was the sort of matter the Headmaster or Deputy Headmistress ought to handle.
Professor McGonagall nodded with a pleasant smile.
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