Greenhouse One

Everything was connected.

Sean checked his timetable again.

First-year Ravenclaw:

Monday morning:

Potions class, Potions class;

Monday afternoon:

History of Magic.

Note: First-year Young Wizards had classes from Monday to Friday, 9:00 a.m. to 12:00 p.m. in the morning and 2:00 p.m. to 3:30 p.m. in the afternoon.

Hogwarts' first-year curriculum was undoubtedly easy. There were no classes after 3:30 in the afternoon.

This also meant Young Wizards needed to be more capable of independent study.

After half a roast chicken from the Great Hall's long table,

Sean's cheeks puffed out. Herbology was different from Potions; although there were still some dangerous plants,

he could simply avoid the dangerous ones and use safe magical plants to grind proficiency,

such as Moly and Daisies.

As long as...

he could find Professor Sprout and get her permission to enter the Greenhouse,

doing odd jobs would be perfect.

Just then, several older Hufflepuff Wizards walked past Sean, and their conversation caught his attention.

"Walk faster. Professor Sprout needs to prepare for the new students' first class today, so we have to work for a while again."

"It's like this every year. I'm happy enough to help Professor handle the herbs,

but I hope we don't run into those serrated three-leaf plants this year. Do you know what they are?"

"Huh?! You sneezed for three weeks, and you never bothered to find out about that herb?"

"I thought you lot had been badmouthing me behind my back."

"We were badmouthing you, sure, but no one could keep it up for three weeks straight. Just like you couldn't date someone for three weeks straight."

"Hey! Can you stop making fun of me like this...?"

"If you hadn't put Itch Powder in our hats and underclothes..."

"Hehe, stop talking. I was wrong."

Seeing the three Hufflepuff male witches about to leave, Sean quickly stood up and poked his head over the long table.

"That serrated three-leaf plant is probably Sneeze-Wort. It's a poisonous plant,

mostly used in Confusion Draughts and Bewitching Potions. Its dried leaves can also be used to make Sneezing Powder.

If you don't want to get caught by it, it's best to stay more than two meters away, because its pollen drifts everywhere in the wind."

Sean's voice was youthful but firm, making the three male witches stop in their tracks.

"A well-read Young Wizard. You must be one of the new Ravenclaw students, right?

But you really shouldn't have told Bruce the truth. He deserved to sneeze his head off."

The male witch with fluffy brown hair looked thoroughly amused.

"Hey, hey, hey, at least don't say that in front of someone else..."

The short-haired male witch beside him spoke helplessly.

"If you hadn't put Itch Powder in our hats and underclothes..."

A slightly plump male witch cut in.

"Can we let this go already? I'm begging you two..."

That was what he said, but there wasn't the slightest hint of regret on his face. Instead, there was something...

If Sean wasn't mistaken, it looked like fond recollection?

"Oh, thanks for telling me that. Sneezing for three weeks straight wasn't pleasant,

but we have to go now. Next time we meet, I'll treat you to Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans."

They were about to leave when Sean's voice called after them.

"I've always wanted to learn about those wonderful herbs. Can I go with you and help Professor Sprout handle the herbs?

I remember every plant in the first-year textbook. Maybe I can help."

Sean quickly listed his strengths, then waited for their answer.

In fact, even if these older Hufflepuff students did not take him along, now that he knew about it, he would go on his own.

"Huh?"

The brown-haired male witch looked troubled.

"Really? You memorized that book as thick as a brick?!"

Bruce's eyes widened.

"Bruce! Professor Sprout never said we could bring anyone along!"

The fluffy brown-haired male witch immediately understood what his companion intended to do.

"Don't worry, Leon. There aren't any dangerous plants in Greenhouse One, remember?

And with one more person, we'll finish much faster.

We have Divination class this afternoon. I don't want to miss the Tarot-style afternoon tea party."

The short-haired male witch, Bruce, looked at Sean with interest.

"Sorry, but I need to ask a few questions to make sure you won't be like those Young Wizards who turn the Greenhouse into a complete mess."

He looked apologetic.

"What is the nickname of the Ariote Tree?"

His words came fast and urgently.

"Hyena Tree."

Sean answered at once.

"What shape are Moly leaves?"

"Oval, oblong, or oblong-lanceolate."

"What does Mistletoe produce?"

"Mistletoe berries. They are white berries and excellent ingredients for Common Antidote, Forgetfulness Potion, and more."

"You absolutely must come with us."

Bruce gripped Sean's hand, his expression incomparably serious. The other two beside him also looked surprised.

"My name is Bruce. They're Leon and Pist."

"Sean Green."

And so, Sean got the chance to go to Greenhouse One. There, they would help Professor Sprout handle herbs,

including removing weeds, collecting some mature herbs, and driving away the tentacles creeping over from Greenhouse Three.

"Those dangerous plants are always strangely fond of Greenhouse One,"

Bruce spread his hands, then solemnly warned Sean,

"Though this rarely happens, if you spot them, remember to notify Professor."

Sean silently remembered his words.

Then, beneath the gentle sunlight of the Scottish Highlands, Sean followed the three familiar with the route out of the castle

and arrived before three dome-shaped buildings of varying sizes.

They had curved roofs, with large panes of glass forming skylights overhead.

"One more thing: Greenhouse One is the one at the very front. If you go to the wrong one, you can only pray Professor Sprout is there.

Just kidding. Remember to run fast, that's all."

Bruce explained many details to Sean along the way.

Though he did not seem particularly reliable, he was not careless at all when it came to important matters.

As he spoke, Leon and Pist nodded along, clearly agreeing with him.

The moment they pushed open the creaking wooden door, a suffocating wave of damp heat rushed over them,

and Pist's glasses immediately fogged over with a layer of white mist.

Everywhere he looked was filled with layers upon layers of dazzling green plants.

Huge, knobby, Pumpkin-shaped plants;

Sneeze-Wort planted in pots, with only a noisy clump of leaves protruding from the top;

and wooden trellises outside the Greenhouse tangled with vines.

The trellises were packed with all sorts of bizarrely shaped flowerpots.

Some of the plants inside exhaled smoke, some had leaves that beat like hearts, and some bore glowing, jewel-like fruit.

Only a narrow path had been left for passage through them.

And in the middle of that path stood a short witch with flowing gray hair.