The corridor outside the Greenhouse.
The lady in an evening gown tilted her head, curiously sizing up the three passing Hufflepuffs.
"Want some gingerbread?"
Pist suddenly pulled several foil-wrapped sweet biscuits from his bag.
Bruce promptly moved ten meters away from him.
"Sometimes I think you don't have taste buds, Pist. We spent three days handling Southern Ginger powder. The smell alone makes me nauseous, yet you can still eat gingerbread?"
"It's fine."
Leon calmly ate one.
"And that's your sense of smell... idiot."
Bruce suddenly looked dazed, then muttered:
"So I spent three days handling pungent Southern Ginger powder with two guys who can't smell, and I was the only one suffering?!"
As though he had remembered something, he became agitated and spoke rapidly:
"What spell?"
"Transparent Bubble-Head Charm."
Leon remained perfectly calm.
"I was wondering why your heads looked a little big these past few days. Merlin's beard, you two didn't tell me and just watched me suffer!"
Bruce immediately flew into a rage.
But Leon and Pist only looked at him calmly.
"If you hadn't put Itch Powder in our hats and under—"
"Hehe, don't say it. I was wrong."
"It's the same pattern every year. By the fourth week, no one can be found in the Greenhouse again."
Bruce said it as if casually.
"But why do I keep feeling like someone's about to come back?"
He leaned toward Leon, who was holding a book, and Pist, who was carrying a potted plant.
"Want to make a bet?"
"No."
Leon shot him a glance.
"Scared?"
Bruce raised his nose high.
Knowing Bruce would nag him for the entire day if he refused, Leon sighed.
"What are we betting?"
"I bet that after today, there'll be another Ravenclaw assistant in the Greenhouse."
"The stakes?"
"Do one