"Professor Sprout."
The moment they reached her, Bruce—usually loud and carefree—became uncharacteristically stiff.
"Oh! Bruce Dickinson,
Leon Howard,
and Pister Jefferson—how lovely to see you three helping again."
Professor Sprout wore a patched-and-mended hat, her warm smile glowing like a lantern in winter.
She set down the heavy shears she'd been using to trim a Bubotuber, then bent down to meet Sean eye to eye.
"A new seedling?
Hello, child. I'm very pleased to meet you. What's your name?"
She didn't ask why he was here, nor show skepticism—
she simply pulled off her dragon-hide gloves, still smeared with earth, and welcomed him with a kindness that reminded Sean of the old lady who occasionally donated to the orphanage…
Though none of her money ever reached the children, he still respected her sincerity.
"Sean Green," he answered softly, suddenly shy.
"Mr. Green, how wonderful. Dickinson, would you take him to help with the mature plants?"
Professor Sprout gently pinched Sean's cheek, then turned to assign duties with the enthusiasm of a general organizing a joyous parade.
"Howard, the weeds are yours.
Jefferson—please sort the Dittany according to growth stage. Our young seedlings will need it for their first lesson."
"Yes, Professor," Bruce replied quickly, rolling up his sleeves.
Leon nodded, and Pister—red-faced and nervous—bobbed his head with such force Sean worried it might fall off.
Sean could tell: Professor Sprout was deeply loved by the Hufflepuffs.
Bruce leaned close and whispered with pride shining in his eyes:
"I promise you'll never find a professor kinder than Sprout.
Every student in Hogwarts is like her child."
He lifted the empty sack in his hands and grinned.
"Come on, let's get started. We've got a mountain of plants to get through."
Sean nodded, following Bruce into the maze of round, pumpkin-like plants and baskets filled with amethyst-colored Dittany blossoms.
"First step—collect the mature ones.
Know how to tell when they're ready?"
Sean shook his head. The textbook never mentioned maturity markers.
"That's because some things can't be learned from books. Watch closely."
Bruce leaned into a patch of Dittany, sniffed the leaves carefully, then clipped a stem cleanly.
"You'll smell a faint mutton aroma.
When they're mature, it's stronger. Try this one."
Sean inhaled gently.
Sure enough, the difference between young and mature plants was immediately noticeable—subtle but distinct.
Bruce chuckled.
"Mature Dittany increases the success rate of Invigoration Draughts.
Immature Dittany can ruin the whole batch.
That—
is the beauty of Herbology."
A door opened inside Sean's mind—exactly the one he'd been searching for.
He joined Bruce eagerly, both of them weaving through the rows like treasure-hunting Nifflers:
Bruce, tall and dark-skinned, resembled a burrowing gopher;
Sean, agile and sharp-eyed, more like a cat moving through grass.
"Alright—time to process the Dittany."
Bruce returned with two silver herb knives and a tool like a small perforated press.
"Cutting Dittany is tricky. We use the three-section method. Watch closely."
He sliced the stem into three parts, each prepared differently—
the top fine, the middle coarse, the base crushed through the sieve-like tool.
"The concentration of Dittany essence changes along the stalk.
So our approach must change too. Your turn."
Sean nodded and took the tools.
[You processed one Dittany at apprentice standard — Proficiency +1]
Sean's lips curved upward—instinctively.
[+1]
[+1]
[+1]
[+1]
The notification rhythm was like music. Sean's hands moved faster and faster.
Bruce stared as if watching a storm gather.
"He might like Herbology a little too much…"
He waved his arms vigorously in front of Sean.
"Sean! Enough—the nettles are next!"
Sean froze mid-slice, nodded, and followed Bruce to a patch of stinging nettles.
"Dried nettles are basic ingredients for many potions," Bruce explained, guiding carefully.
Sean absorbed every word like a sponge.
[Processed one nettle — Proficiency +1]
[Processed one nettle — Proficiency +1]
Time flowed like sand.
"Gentlemen—well done.
Thank you for your help with the seedlings."
Professor Sprout's voice cut through the steam-filled air.
Sean set down the final nettle—the pale-blue liquid dripping from it proof of proper treatment.
He opened his status panel.
[Herbology Understanding: Locked (27 / 90)]
(Includes plant identification, harvesting, and material preparation proficiency)
Ninety points to unlock.
The highest threshold he'd seen yet.
Bruce, Leon, and Pister stood straighter as Professor Sprout looked at them with kind pride.
"Mr. Dickinson and Mr. Green—thank you for protecting our seedlings from deceptive plants.
Mr. Howard—well done with the weeds.
And Mr. Jefferson—your Dittany classification was excellent."
Her smile glowed like a hearth fire.
"Come, children—take a hazelnut chocolate."
Bruce let out a strangled gasp before slapping a hand over his mouth.
Leon shook his head helplessly, and Pister beamed dreamily, still soaking in the praise.
The greenhouse looked transformed—plants harvested and sorted, weeds cleared, and Dittany organized by age.
Sean stopped right in front of Professor Sprout, eyes fixed determinedly on her face instead of the chocolate in her hand.
"Professor Sprout… may I come help here during other times as well?"
His voice was careful—almost fragile.
Advance Chapters available on Patreon