In a quiet, flower-filled valley stood the manor of the Sprout family. Its exterior walls were completely covered in vines, ivy, and other climbing plants, blending seamlessly with the surrounding landscape.
Shire let out a soft sigh of admiration.
"What a beautiful manor."
A faint smile touched Professor Sprout's lips, but there was also a flicker of sadness in her eyes.
"Your father and I grew up here… back then…" she said slowly. "But later, something happened to him. I was the only one left. So I rarely came back after that."
Shire was surprised by the sorrow in her tone.
"Aunt… how did my parents die?"
Professor Sprout's hand clenched involuntarily, her face darkening with deep-seated hatred.
"Antonin Dolohov," she said bitterly. "That cold-blooded executioner. During the war, he murdered countless wizards who dared to resist He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his Death Eaters."
She paused, her voice thick with emotion.
"The Prewett brothers—upright, brave—they were killed by Dolohov's Killing Curse. The Longbottoms, so resilient… they were tortured into madness by him and his followers."
A tear rolled down her cheek.
"And your parents… they too died under his spells."
Her voice trembled. "Such a merciless executioner. He deserves to rot in Azkaban forever!"
Shire silently committed the name Antonin Dolohov to memory. He recalled from the original Harry Potter stories that a massive breakout from Azkaban had occurred. Dolohov likely escaped at that time.
Maybe, in the future, he could do something.
But for now—he needed to plant more trees.
Professor Sprout slowly composed herself, wiping away her tears.
"Let's not dwell on these sad memories." She smiled faintly. "Shire, this is your first day back at the Sprout family manor. Come—let me show you around. Where would you like to start?"
After a brief pause, she chuckled.
"Knowing you, you're probably most curious about the planting greenhouse."
She led Shire through the manor's old halls, past long, vine-covered corridors with dappled sunlight filtering through. Finally, she opened a thick wooden door.
A large greenhouse stood before them.
"This greenhouse has been maintained by our family for generations," said Professor Sprout with pride. "Herbology is our family tradition. The greenhouse and the knowledge within it are the Sprout family's most treasured inheritance."
Then, turning to Shire, she said solemnly,
"Now, this greenhouse is yours."
Shire was stunned. He didn't know the exact value of such a place in the wizarding world, but even in the Muggle world, a greenhouse like this would cost a fortune—let alone one imbued with magical enhancements.
Before he could object, Professor Sprout continued,
"I already have a greenhouse at Hogwarts—one of the best in the wizarding world. I haven't tended to this one in years. Leaving it empty would be a waste. You're the only remaining bloodline in the family. If I don't pass it on to you, then to whom?"
After a moment of thought, Shire nodded.
"I understand. Thank you… Aunt."
A warm smile spread across her face.
"Alright, let me show you how everything works."
She began explaining the features of the greenhouse.
"There's an Undetectable Extension Charm applied, so it's over ten times bigger on the inside than it looks from the outside. It also has temperature and humidity zoning magic. One part can be freezing cold, and another scorching hot—like standing near a volcano."
She walked over to the soil and scooped a handful.
"But the most important part is this soil. We've been enriching it with magical fertilizer for generations. It's saturated with magical energy. Herbs planted here not only grow faster but also stronger—and their effects improve dramatically. Some even mature earlier."
As Shire listened, his eyes lit up. He finally realized the true value of this greenhouse.
For a Herbologist like him, this wasn't just a workspace—it was a top-tier magical laboratory.
If he'd had this earlier, his Legendary-level skills might already have broken into the Mythical tier.
Without hesitation, he spoke earnestly.
"Aunt, I promise I'll make the best use of this greenhouse. I won't let the Sprout family name be forgotten."
Professor Sprout's smile widened with pride.
"I believe in you. Now come, let me teach you how to use the systems."
The controls were surprisingly easy—wave your wand, focus your intent, and the magic, bound to the Sprout bloodline, would do the rest. Shire, who had operated complex lab equipment in his previous life, picked it up instantly. Just one demonstration, and he had it.
Professor Sprout's eyes gleamed with approval.
"It seems the Sprout family truly has an heir."
She asked gently,
"Are you tired? Shall we take a break and have something to eat?"
But Shire was too excited. This "giant toy" had just been handed to him, and he couldn't bear to stop now.
Seeing this, Professor Sprout chuckled.
"Alright, I see you're eager. Then let's get started on your first herb. Is there something specific you'd like to grow?"
Shire's eyes sparkled. With Professor Sprout's expert guidance, the chances of a perfect cultivation were high. From past experience, the more perfect the process, the greater the system's rewards.
His gaze drifted to the three Marguerite plants he'd brought with him—the same plants that had triggered his magic and brought him to the wizarding world.
They were weak, but cultivating more would strengthen his magic.
He also hadn't yet uncovered the conditions needed to grow them. Curiosity burned within him.
"I'd like to plant Marguerites," he said firmly.
Professor Sprout nodded.
"Marguerites are magical herbs, but not overly difficult to grow. They don't require special potion water. What makes them unique is their need for high heat and stuffiness—"
She paused.
"—and positive emotions. They grow best when surrounded by happiness. The cultivator needs to be cheerful and present. The more warmth and joy they feel, the faster they mature."
Shire's mind raced. That explained everything.
In cold, damp London, the Marguerites hadn't grown. But once the weather turned hot and stuffy—and he began working in the greenhouse where he was happiest—they started to thrive.
With his recently maxed-out Legendary heat resistance and Epic-level drought tolerance, what others found unbearable was perfectly comfortable for him.
This was his advantage. This was his moment.
"I'll fill the greenhouse with Marguerites," he thought. "Before school starts, I'll raise my magic even further."
Professor Sprout retrieved a large bag filled with Marguerite seeds and demonstrated the planting process. Shire followed closely, planting his first one under her guidance.
[System prompt appeared:]
[You have successfully planted a Marguerite.]
[Reward available: Extremely weak increase in magic (in gestation).]
[After maturity: Weak increase in magic]
He noticed that the glowing reward orb above the new Marguerite was already larger than any before—at least a 30% improvement!
Just then, a sound of wings flapping came from outside. An owl arrived with a letter.
Professor Sprout opened it, frowning slightly.
"A letter from Dumbledore? He says there's something urgent to discuss…"
Shire said quickly,
"Aunt, go handle it. I'll stay here and won't cause any trouble."
After a brief hesitation, she gave him a hug.
"Don't overwork yourself," she said softly, before leaving the manor.
Once alone, Shire exhaled deeply. The greenhouse was already warm, but for Marguerites, this was just the bare minimum. He needed more heat, more pressure—conditions that would help them flourish.
He hesitated earlier because Professor Sprout was worried about him. But now…
He walked to the controls, wand in hand. Slowly, he turned up the heat. The stuffiness thickened, reaching levels that would overwhelm any normal person.
But to Shire?
It felt like a spring breeze.
He stared at the glowing orb above the newly planted Marguerite, which continued to grow in size and brilliance.
He smiled. Then, without hesitation, raised his wand again—
"Temperature—full blast!"
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