This was the first time he'd seen anything like it.
"A new target?"
It looked worth trying. Since the holidays ended in January, his Wish Dust gains had been solid. Burning a chunk of it on this flowerpot probably wouldn't be a waste.
He didn't hesitate long before deciding.
No other choice, really. His system had zero instructions. Everything had to be tested by hand.
This situation might point to some special specialization path.
With that thought, he picked up the pot and checked the system view again.
Yeah. It wasn't the pot itself that was highlighted. It was the plant inside.
The thing was already dry and stiff, but maybe a little life still clung to it.
What kind of plant was this, anyway?
Charlie flipped one of the hard, blackened leaves and looked it over from every angle. He couldn't place it.
The door creaked open. Anthony walked in, spotted Charlie holding the flowerpot, and made a surprised noise.
"You're messing with that thing? I was about to chuck it. It's been sitting there for days and hasn't improved at all.
I've been watering it every day. Looks like it's starting to smell."
"I'll try keeping it alive," Charlie said.
Anthony nodded, then glanced at Alice. "All right. What are you planning to do with it?
You'd better warn Alice, or she'll think it's hay and start munching on it."
"Too late," Charlie laughed. "When I got back, she was already sniffing around the pot."
Alice shot over to Anthony's feet and butted her head against his leg, clearly annoyed.
"I think she understood you," Charlie said, "and decided you just called her stupid."
Anthony grinned, scooped her up, and tossed her toward Charlie's bed. She hit the mattress with a soft duang and bounced.
"Fine. It's yours now." He glanced at the rabbit charging toward him and quickly slipped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Charlie carried the pot to his desk. With a thought, Wish Dust started draining fast.
Three… seven… twenty.
When twenty points had been poured in, the specialization finally stopped.
But nothing visibly strange happened to the plant during the process or after. In the system view, though, the whole thing now gave off a faint crimson mist.
That mist pulsed exactly like the blue highlight had earlier.
Charlie still read it as a heartbeat. The rhythm of life.
He was turning the pot slowly, studying it from every angle, when a line of text appeared in front of him.
[Sun Dew, Moon Dew, and a little care]
The words faded. Charlie set the pot down, opened his drawer, and pulled out the Moon Dew jar. Only a little remained. The three products—Sunshine, Moonlight, and Dream—had been burning through stock faster than usual lately.
"Looks like I need to harvest more Moon Dew." He opened the jar, scooped out a teaspoon of the pale blue sand, and gently sprinkled it around the plant's roots.
When he was done, he placed the pot on the windowsill, grabbed the jar and Alice, and left the dorm.
Over the next week the plant visibly came back to life. The leaves slowly turned green again. The stem grew stronger and could lift its head a little.
Friday night, Anthony stared at the pot in surprise. "Charlie, I didn't think you'd actually bring it back."
"So what is it?" Hector asked, leaning in for a closer look.
"Strawberry, I think." Charlie wasn't entirely sure. The leaves looked familiar, but he couldn't swear to it.
Bringing it back to life was worth celebrating, but Charlie didn't feel particularly excited. So far the plant hadn't shown any special traits at all.
Damn system. Why was there never an instruction manual?
He sighed, cleared his desk, set the pot back on the windowsill, and started on his homework.
Anthony suddenly spoke up. "Oh, right—are you two going to the match tomorrow afternoon?"
Charlie shook his head. "Nah. I'm heading to the club."
"I thought you'd be excited." Anthony gave him a look. "You're really not going to cheer for Harry and the others?"
Tomorrow's game was Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff.
Charlie shook his head again. He had zero interest in Quidditch. He wasn't even sure he'd bother watching Ravenclaw play.
After homework, it was almost eleven. Hector and Anthony climbed into bed. Charlie stayed up, book open on his desk, completely absorbed.
Array Formations, Ritual Origins, Secrets in History.
A book about ritual magic.
Ritual magic was something else entirely. Charlie still remembered how, in the original story, Peter Pettigrew had used a whole series of rituals to bring Voldemort back. That definitely counted as ritual magic.
Horcruxes too—killing someone for each one felt tied to the same kind of magic.
He wasn't reading this because he wanted to resurrect anyone or make Horcruxes. He was looking for answers about the scene he'd witnessed on the blood moon night.
The book was divided into sections, from ancient tribal sacrifices to modern small-scale rituals. Human ceremonies and the rituals of other magical races.
Centaurs. Goblins. Merpeople. Giants.
Most magical creatures had their own forms of ritual magic. These weren't just prayers to the sky. They were real spells that produced tangible results.
And, as everyone knew, ritual magic often aligned with specific celestial events.
The most common were full-moon rituals. Every race, humans included, had some kind of ceremony tied to the full moon.
[Every merpeople tribe surfaces on the night of the full moon, forms a circle, and sings the Tide Song together.
The song is essentially a spell. It stirs the tides and draws down the moon's power, channeling it straight into the merpeople's bodies.
They believe this power drives out sickness, lets the old live longer, and makes the young stronger.
Among the centaurs, who are famous for worshipping the stars, the moon holds even higher status.
If a centaur is born on the night of a full moon, it receives the blessing of star and moon. Its eyes can part the clouds and see farther into the future than ordinary members of the tribe.
Such centaurs are called Children of the Moon and receive better treatment within the tribe from the start.
(Note from the author: Every centaur interviewed firmly believed this, though no concrete evidence supports the claim.
Additional note: Centaurs trust in nature and natural law. They will not force a birth earlier or later than it would naturally occur.)]
Charlie glanced at the illustration on the left page. It showed a human leg with an arrow driven straight through the calf.
Below it, a short caption read:
[Driven out violently by centaurs after asking an overly offensive question.]