Could Lady Maleficent actually produce dragon dung when she transformed into her dragon form? If so, wouldn't the fertility potential be absolutely terrifying?
Thinking about it this way, the Black Forest's remarkably lush vegetation suddenly made perfect sense...
Sterling shuddered and forced himself to stop these internally disrespectful thoughts, standing straighter to listen as Professor Sprout introduced dittany to their class.
This represented one of the most fundamental magical herbs. It didn't even require complex brewing processes. Simply grinding it into fine powder could provide excellent blood-clotting effects. Moreover, it produced high yields and remained relatively inexpensive to purchase.
Sterling and his classmates' assignment for this particular lesson was to fertilise a large section of dittany plants in the greenhouse using fresh dragon dung that had been delivered just this morning.
Upon hearing Professor Sprout assign this decidedly unglamorous task, the nearby Slytherin students wearing their distinctive green scarves all pulled genuinely disgusted faces.
They were widely recognised as the House that least appreciated Herbology, which was completely understandable. Slytherin's fundamental requirement emphasised "purity of blood", and for these established pure-blood families, manually tending to herbs wasn't something they believed they should be doing.
Sterling had only recently discovered that pure-blood families and general wizarding families represented completely different categories. Wizarding families only needed one parent who was a wizard to qualify for the designation, while pure-blood families required both sides to maintain wizard heritage for three generations or more.
They controlled a considerable portion of the magical world's resources and political influence, functioning no differently from what Muggles would recognise as aristocracy. An upperclassman had explained this social structure to him in their common room.
"Professor! Do we really have to tend to these common things? You can buy an entire bundle of this stuff for just one Sickle."
A somewhat naive-looking young Slytherin spoke up boldly, completely failing to notice that the other students from his House all displayed contemptuous expressions and took subtle steps to distance themselves from him.
For established families, you only needed to know this particular herb was inexpensive. If you knew its specific market selling price so precisely, it clearly indicated your family wasn't particularly noble or wealthy.
Professor Sprout didn't display any impatience but gently informed him that this knowledge was something the Ministry of Magic required all students to master.
Under her patient persuasion, the young Slytherin lowered his head in embarrassment, while the other Slytherins said nothing more. Though Professor Sprout maintained a gentle demeanour, it didn't mean she would tolerate students refusing assignments.
"You absolute idiot. At least you didn't lose House points."
A Slytherin student with his platinum hair slicked back perfectly criticised the boy in hushed tones. He had two notably chubby followers positioned beside him, and Sterling observed that many other Slytherins focused their attention respectfully on him.
That particular student seemed to wield considerable influence within Slytherin House politics.
Sterling didn't base this assessment solely on that single observation. Primarily, the boy's expression radiated excessive arrogance, displaying a pride that clearly came from deep within his core. His eyes seemed to constantly communicate, "You're all fundamentally inferior to me."
Of course, Sterling had never encountered any first-year student whose magical achievements could actually support looking down on others with such disdain, except for himself. So this boy's supreme confidence could only originate from his family background and inherited status.
Family background was what Slytherin students cared about most, and since he still maintained this superior attitude toward other Slytherins, the conclusion was obvious. His family background was the most prestigious among the first-years. Correspondingly, his social influence was also the most significant.
"Terry, do you happen to know who that person is?"
He tugged gently at Terry's sleeve. Terry enjoyed socialising with everyone and came from a wizarding family himself, so Sterling figured he should have this information.
"Oh, that's Malfoy," Terry recognised him immediately with a single glance.
"Draco Malfoy, the only son of an extremely famous pure-blood family. Come to think of it, you don't recognise him? I thought someone who pays such close attention to Harry Potter would definitely know him."
"Wait, how do you know I'm paying attention to Harry Potter?"
"It's quite simple," Terry replied, tying on his work apron while turning to regard him seriously, holding up three fingers for emphasis.
"You've asked me about Harry Potter exactly three times. Besides him, you've only asked me about Longbottom once and Robert once. Everyone else registers zero questions, and Potter isn't even your personal friend... It's pretty obvious."
"Alright, so he's somehow closely connected to Harry Potter?"
Sterling also began tying on his assigned apron. Since he had been somewhat slow to respond, he only managed to obtain an ugly green one. They were about to begin shovelling dragon dung.
"Absolutely correct! Whenever those two meet, they react like gunpowder meeting flame. I don't understand what specific grudge exists between them, but they exchange heated words whenever they encounter each other, yet never actually engage in physical fighting. It's genuinely strange."
"Actually, I think Malfoy harbours more hatred toward Weasley. I've witnessed them argue several times, and Malfoy spends most of his energy attacking Weasley, while Potter seems to just join in the cursing. Oh, this really stinks!"
Both Sterling and Terry wrinkled their faces in disgust. The dragon dung pile before them reached half a person's height. Sterling held his breath completely, shovelled up a substantial lump, then ran continuously to dump it beside the designated ditty field.
Terry followed the same strategy. After Professor Sprout came to inspect and approved their completed assignment, they both rushed to the spot farthest from the dragon dung to breathe some fresh air.
Sterling observed Hermione and Padma Patil methodically fertilising the dittany field. They weren't as physically resistant as Sterling and Terry. Though they both frowned with obvious displeasure, they still seriously followed the professor's detailed instructions.
After Professor Sprout observed their dedicated work, she happily awarded them ten House points.
A platinum-blond boy with perfectly slicked-back hair approached their location, followed by his two loyal followers. Sterling had noticed this particular combination while shovelling dragon dung. Draco had remained standing far away the entire time, directing his two followers to complete all the actual work.
"So, you're that famous Ravenclaw Transfiguration prodigy and Potions..." He deliberately swallowed the latter half of his sentence, but Sterling already understood exactly what it implied.
He sighed deeply. As expected, this embarrassing matter wouldn't simply disappear. His glorious academic disasters had already become widespread knowledge throughout Hogwarts.
"I'm Draco Malfoy."
He raised his head with obvious pride, as if expecting Sterling to express surprise and offer suitable praise.
"Uh... hello there, I'm Sterling Page. It's nice to meet you."
Not receiving the response he had clearly expected, Draco appeared somewhat displeased. He spoke with deliberate formality, as if imitating familiar adults he'd observed.
"So then, are you from an established wizarding family?"
Draco figured there was no Page family among recognised pure-bloods, and Muggle-born young wizards typically wouldn't demonstrate such exceptional abilities, so Sterling must belong to a wizarding family.
Wizarding families, though they were quite socially inferior, considering Sterling's impressive Transfiguration talent, young Master Malfoy decided to graciously offer him an opportunity to befriend him.
Lucius had specifically instructed him to cultivate friendships with potentially useful people. Since Harry Potter had audaciously refused Malfoy's generous offer of friendship, he would extend this valuable opportunity to someone else.
But contrary to Draco's confident expectations, Sterling shook his head negatively.
"I'm from a Muggle family."
Andrew had advised him before leaving home that if anyone enquired about his family composition, he should honestly say he was from a Muggle family.
Andrew understood that in many people's prejudiced views, a Squib wasn't even considered as respectable as a Muggle...
Draco froze completely, restraining the hand he had almost extended in greeting.
Muggle family... didn't that mean Sterling was a mudblood?
Draco immediately transformed his entire expression. He raised his head even higher, almost looking down at Sterling through his nostrils with obvious disdain.
He snorted dismissively through his nose, then walked away with his two followers without uttering another word. Watching his theatrical departure that made his expensive robes billow dramatically, Sterling couldn't help but think of Professor Snape.
"What did he come over here for exactly?"
"Who knows? I told you he was a bit strange in his behaviour."
Sterling reflected on that final look Draco had given him. He felt certain that Draco had thought something genuinely unpleasant about him, and Sterling always trusted his intuitive feelings.
So he discreetly summoned a small quill that appeared in his pocket. He turned slightly away from Terry's direction, withdrew it carefully, and wrote a brief string of words on the grass.
"OW! Crabbe! You absolute idiot! You stepped directly on me!"
Draco's angry cursing voice carried from the distance. Sterling smiled with satisfaction as the magical quill dissolved completely into the air.
This represented a new practical application for The Witness of the Author. Manifesting only the quill consumed slightly more energy and could modify limited reality, but it proved remarkably convenient and discreet for small revenge.