The first night of Jon's second school year passed without incident...
Early the next morning, he headed to the Great Hall for breakfast.
The long tables of the four Houses were laden with food—steaming bowls of porridge, plates of pickled herring, stacks of bread, and dishes of eggs and cured meat.
Jon found a seat at the Hufflepuff table, right next to Cedric Diggory.
"Morning," Jon said casually as he grabbed a slice of bread.
"The new second-year schedule." Cedric smiled, nodding as he handed Jon a sheet of parchment.
"Thanks!" Jon quickly took it—then something caught his eye. Looking up, he noticed the silver badge pinned to Cedric's chest. "Wait… you're Hufflepuff's Prefect?"
"Yes... I got a letter from Professor Dumbledore over the summer," Cedric said with a slightly sheepish smile.
"Congratulations!" Jon said at once.
"Thanks."
It was hardly surprising that Cedric Diggory had been made Prefect. In the original story, he'd even taken Harry to the Prefects' bathroom during Goblet of Fire, and Cedric was one of the rare students at Hogwarts who excelled both academically and athletically.
Jon turned his attention to the newly issued timetable.
Second-year classes weren't much different from first year's—though normally, students no longer had flying lessons. Jon, of course, was an exception.
The first class of the day was Herbology, taught jointly to Gryffindor and Hufflepuff.
...
After breakfast, Jon followed Zacharias Smith and Eloise Midgen out of the castle, hurrying toward the greenhouses.
Inside, Professor Pomona Sprout was already waiting for them, still wearing her patch-covered hat and with mud streaking her robes.
"How was your summer?" Professor Sprout asked warmly.
"Brilliant, Professor!" Zacharias grinned. "I almost didn't want to come back to school!"
Sprout, as always, took such remarks in stride; she was so approachable that some of the more mischievous Hufflepuffs even dared to joke with her.
"That won't do," she said, shaking her head. "You've still got six more years of classes to get through..."
As they spoke, the Gryffindors arrived. Jon spotted Ginny Weasley and Colin Creevey leading the way.
"Today, we're heading to Greenhouse Three," Professor Sprout announced once everyone had gathered.
The students from both houses began murmuring with interest.
Last year, they'd only been inside Greenhouse One, which housed nothing more dangerous than mushrooms and other harmless plants. But Greenhouse Three held far more fascinating—and far more dangerous—specimens.
Sprout took a large key from her belt and unlocked the door.
A wave of damp, earthy scent—soil and fertilizer—hit Jon at once, the air cool and heavy with moisture.
"Follow me—and don't touch anything," Sprout warned.
The students obeyed, trailing after her.
After about a minute, they stopped in front of a tangled mass of black, ugly-looking vines.
"Does anyone know what these are?" Sprout asked, scanning the group. "I believe I introduced them in a Herbology lesson last year."
"Devil's Snare?" Ginny Weasley ventured.
"Exactly, Miss Weasley." Sprout nodded approvingly. "And can you tell me its characteristics?"
"Devil's Snare likes cold, dark, and damp places. Warmth is its natural enemy, so it fears fire."
"Very good—five points to Gryffindor," Sprout said. "Fire is indeed its greatest enemy. What else?"
"It wraps around its prey, and the more the prey struggles, the tighter it holds," Jon answered.
"Correct." Sprout gave him an approving look. "Devil's Snare is incredibly strong—so strong that even magical creatures like dragons or Basilisks have great difficulty breaking free. Five points to Hufflepuff."
Her gaze shifted back to the black vines.
"Just like this," she said—then leapt straight into the mass of Devil's Snare.
Jon suddenly understood why Professor Sprout always seemed to be covered in dirt.
Several girls shrieked.
The black vines writhed and coiled, quickly binding the short, stout witch in their grasp.
"The more I try to fight it…" Sprout said with effort as the vines snaked further over her, "…the tighter it holds…"
Jon's expression grew tense. Devil's Snare wasn't some harmless plant—it could be lethal.
His hand slipped into his pocket to grip his wand, just in case.
One vine coiled around Sprout's neck, choking off her voice—
Then a sudden burst of flame engulfed the black vines. They began to shrink away, and Sprout calmly climbed out, stepping right through the fire.
Jon let out a breath.
He'd been overreacting. She was, after all, Hufflepuff's Head of House—on par with Professors Snape and McGonagall—and had been working with dangerous magical plants for decades.
"So, if you ever come across Devil's Snare in the wild, don't panic," Sprout said gently. "Relax, and conjure fire. I believe Professor Flitwick taught you the Fire-Making Charm — Incendio — back in your first year."
She turned back to the plant. The flames she'd conjured—without wand or incantation—still burned fiercely.
Jon noticed that under the heat, the Devil's Snare was shrinking further…
She didn't extinguish the flames, which hung a yard or two above the vines. Soon, the mass of Devil's Snare was gone, replaced by over twenty dark green balls, each about the size of a ping-pong ball, scattered across the ground.
"Anyone know what these are?" Sprout asked with a smile.
The greenhouse was silent.
Even Jon frowned. These were well outside his knowledge.
"I didn't think so," Sprout said, dismissing the flames and carefully picking up one of the green spheres. "Not even Phyllida Spore's One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi makes any mention of them."
"I call them Devil's Snare spores. I discovered them by accident last October. If you continuously expose Devil's Snare to fire or intense light—without actually burning it—it will eventually turn into these."
"Zacharias, come here," she called suddenly.
"Huh?" Zacharias Smith stepped forward, looking curious.
Sprout handed him the spore. He took it without much thought—
The sphere immediately began to swell and grow, coiling up his entire arm.
Zacharias yelped in fright, but Sprout swiftly conjured another flame and freed him.
As soon as the plant released him, Zacharias bolted back over ten yards, muttering, "That was terrifying!"
Several Hufflepuffs laughed.
"That's right," Sprout said, hiding a smile. "Devil's Snare spores react the same way as the plant itself, quickly ensnaring anything that touches them. So when handling spores, you must be even more careful."
"Now, who wants to try moving one?"
The Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs exchanged wary glances.
"I'll try," Jon volunteered.
"All right, Jon—over here," Sprout said at once.
He stepped up beside her and bent down to study one of the spores.
"Be very gentle," she murmured close to his ear. "They're temperamental—any rough movement, and they'll attack."
Jon nodded, carefully pinching the spore between two fingers and lifting it onto his palm.
"Good," Sprout said. "Now, keep it steady and place it into the flowerpot on your right."
Jon took tiny, cautious steps. After about ten seconds, he lowered the spore safely into the pot.
"Excellent!" Sprout began to applaud. "Ten points to Hufflepuff. Who's next?"
"I'll try," Ginny Weasley said.
She managed to pick up a spore, but halfway through moving it, something went wrong—the spore rapidly coiled around her body.
Sprout freed her quickly.
"You all right, dear?" she asked with concern.
Ginny nodded, cheeks red.
"You moved too quickly," Sprout began explaining. "You should…"