Herbology Class

Oren began explaining the feasibility of the experiment, its possible improvements, and its prospects. Dumbledore's eyelids twitched furiously as his blood pressure soared.

Finally, during a pause when Oren took a sip of tea to wet his throat, Dumbledore said, "My child, your experiment is indeed highly feasible, but where will you get the souls?" He fixed Oren with a grave stare.

Oren rolled his eyes and slammed the table hard enough to make it bang. "Headmaster, I know what you're worried about. I'm not some psychopath—I definitely won't use human souls. Aren't there Acromantulas in the Forbidden Forest? I'm planning to borrow some souls from those fellow villagers."

Dumbledore?!?! Borrow? He said it as though he intended to return them afterward.

"All right, my child. I'll ask Professor Snape to accompany you. And remember to come to the Headmaster's Office when you conduct the experiment. I'll offer some advice." Dumbledore slumped back in his chair, exhausted.

Oren waved a small hand. "Don't worry, Headmaster. Once I've made a container for storing souls, we'll begin the experiment. We'll grow bigger and stronger, then create new glory!"

After leaving the Headmaster's Office, Oren rushed toward the Greenhouse. There was still plenty of time before Herbology class, and not a single young wizard was inside.

Professor Sprout was startled by the sight of the half-dead-looking Oren. "My child, what happened to you?"

"I'm fine, Professor. I've been busy all day and didn't have time to eat. I'm just starving."

"Ah, child, why didn't you eat properly?" Professor Sprout led Oren into the small kitchen inside the Greenhouse.

Inside the Greenhouse, the little lions and little snakes sat facing each other on opposite sides of a long table.

Ron lowered his head and said, "Harry, class is about to start. Why hasn't the professor arrived yet?"

"Who knows?" Harry said.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oren isn't here either."

Across from them, Draco called out, "Give it a rest, Weasley. Instead of worrying about the professor being late, why not reflect on how you managed to be late for Transfiguration?"

"I heard you and Potter were the only first-year wizards late today."

"You!" Ron's face turned crimson with rage.

"All right, children. Today's lesson is repotting Leaping Toadstools."

Professor Sprout entered the Greenhouse together with Oren, who was chewing on a pie.

Oren sat in the empty seat between Ron and Hermione.

"Where did you get that pie?" Ron asked.

Oren swallowed a mouthful of pie. "Professor Sprout made it for me."

He casually took out another pie and offered it to the little witch.

"Hmph! How can you eat during class?"

Hermione refused Oren's offering and attempted to interrogate his soul.

"If you don't want it, fine." Oren tossed the pie to Harry and Ron. "Come on, try Professor Sprout's cooking."

Harry and Ron ate like two starving dogs.

The professor taught at the front while Oren and the other two wolfed down pies below.

After finishing his pie, Oren patted his stomach and asked, "Harry, what's today's task?"

Harry wiped grease from the corner of his mouth and exchanged a bewildered glance with Ron.

Oren rolled his eyes. "What use are you two?"

"Um, Hermione, what's today's task?"

"Hmph." The little witch snorted. "I'm not telling you. Who told you to insist on eating during class?"

"Fine." Oren looked across at Draco. "Hey, little cousin, what's today's task?"

Draco snorted. "Mr. Black should ask the stupid lions beside him."

"You!" Ron instantly saw red.

"Stay calm." Oren stopped the furious Ron. "After class, we'll block him at the door."

Then he pulled an iron rod from a flowerpot behind him and, right in front of Draco, snapped the thumb-thick rod into four pieces.

Draco explained, "Ahem, ahem... We're just repotting this mushroom."

Oren nodded, very satisfied with his sensible little cousin.

To be safe, he pulled out his wand and poked the mushroom a few times. When he finished, Oren frowned.

"What is this thing? Why does it bounce every time I poke it?"

As he spoke, he jabbed the mushroom repeatedly. It nearly jumped out of the pot and started breakdancing for Oren.

Unable to watch any longer, the little witch said, "Stop! You need to calm the mushroom first, not poke it with your wand. Ahem, ahem—you're getting fungal spores everywhere."

Oren raised an eyebrow. "Calm it? Does it deserve that?"

He took out a gauntlet. On closer inspection, it appeared to be from the suit of armor outside the Headmaster's Office.

"Watch closely. I'll only demonstrate this once. This move is called Merciless Iron Hand!"

Oren yanked the mushroom straight out of its pot and brutally stuffed it into a larger one.

The young wizards around them: !!!

Suddenly, dragon-hide gloves did not seem so useful anymore.

Professor Sprout said, "Mr. Black is the first to finish repotting. Three points to Gryffindor."

Oren shot Hermione a provocative look. The little witch angrily tugged at her hair and began following Professor Sprout's instructions.

Harry hesitated. "Um..."

"Don't even think about it, Harry. The core principle of this move is that great strength creates miracles. You can't do it."

Harry...

Oren looked at the mess around him. Some students were coughing nonstop after being choked by spores, while others had been knocked over by mushrooms that leaped out of their pots and headbutted them.

Oren took out some wheat juice and had a sip, sighing inwardly at how lonely it was to be invincible.

Hermione handled her mushroom strictly according to the professor's method, earning Gryffindor another two points.

She looked at Oren in confusion. "What are you drinking?"

"Wheat juice."

Hermione lowered her voice. "Young wizards aren't allowed to drink alcohol. If the professor finds out, points will be deducted. You might even get detention."

Oren gave Hermione a grateful look. "Thanks for reminding me. Don't worry—if points get deducted, I'll earn them back. And I'll definitely earn more than you."

The little witch let out a silent, piercing scream in her heart.

"Oh? Draco, where are your two precious followers? Did you switch them out today?"

Draco's companions today were two little witches, one who looked like a poodle and another with long, curly tawny hair.

"Hello, I'm Pansy Parkinson." The poodle-like girl shook Oren's hand coldly.

"Hello, I'm Daphne Greengrass. Also, are you pure-blood?"

Oren?!? Wasn't that an awfully rude question?

"Ahem, ahem." Draco pulled Daphne aside and whispered a few words to her.

As soon as class ended, Draco slipped away at top speed, terrified that Oren would actually block him at the door. Hermione, meanwhile, left the Greenhouse hugging her books.

"I bet she's going to the library," Ron said.

Harry nodded along.

Glancing at the two precious followers, who had been left filthy and disheveled by the mushrooms, Oren said, "Come on. Let's go back to the tower."

In the Gryffindor common room, Harry and Ron played wizard chess while Oren pondered the soul container.

He sat as still as an old monk in meditation, while Hermione sat some distance away with her back to the three of them, reading a book.

Ron rolled his eyes. "She's really strange. What's so interesting about books on pure-blood families?"

Oren nodded in agreement. He could understand family trees, but why would they be in the library?

Surely no young wizard would be interested in something like that? Though an old acquaintance named Huang would definitely love it.

Harry wiped away a cold sweat. This was already the fourth round he had lost to Ron.

"Harry, where's my bottle of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans?" Ron asked.

Oren slapped his thigh. A bottle—it could just use a bottle. Simple, rough, sturdy, and durable.

He sprang out of his chair and charged toward Snape's office.

Harry, Ron, Hermione???

Oren kicked the door open and burst in. "Quick! My dear Half-Blood Prince professor, get me a potion bottle. The biggest and most expensive kind."

Snape calmly took a sip of tea, wet his throat, and began verbally tearing into Oren.

Oren stared at Snape, who found fault with everything, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

"You old geezer, quit yammering. Come on, let's duel in the classroom next door!"

Thirty minutes later...

Oren walked out of the classroom. His robes only had a few light scratches; compared with his previous duels, this could be called a respectable showing.

Snape emerged from the doorway baring his teeth in pain, several bruises visible on his face.

I may have gotten beaten badly, but as long as I landed two punches on you in the chaos, I didn't lose out.

After taking the most expensive-looking potion bottle from Snape's cabinet, Oren went to the Headmaster's Office and shook Dumbledore awake from his chair.

"Quick, Headmaster, stop sleeping. Get up and do the experiment."

Dumbledore stared at the potion bottle on the table, and Oren asked in confusion.

"What is it, Headmaster? Is there something wrong with my idea?"

"My child, this potion bottle..."

"Got it from Professor Snape. I openly snatched it fair and square. It's spoils from winning a duel."

Dumbledore...

"All right. Start your experiment. And return the armor's gauntlet."

Oren...

They worked until the latter half of the night before finally completing the soul container. Oren wiped away sweat and said, "Headmaster Dumbledore, didn't we agree that you'd give advice? Why were you acting like a supervisor the whole time?"

"Ahem. All right, my child, it's late. You should rest." Dumbledore conjured a bed, then went into the inner room of the Headmaster's Office to sleep.

Late? It was practically dawn already.

The next day.

"Wake up, child. If you don't get up now, you'll miss breakfast!"

Oren groggily opened his eyes, tucked the soul container from the table into his pocket, and swayed as he prepared to leave.

"Remember to come to the Headmaster's Office when you conduct the experiment!"

Oren stared at Headmaster Dumbledore in disbelief, as if he were seeing him for the first time.

"Wait, Headmaster Dumbledore, how did I never realize you were so radical? You haven't even mastered alchemy yet, and you're already starting soul alchemy experiments? Don't you know taking too big a step can make you pull something?"

"Hiss... Is this the legendary situation where conservatives think radicals are too conservative?"

Dumbledore...

"Ahem, ahem, ahem. My child, just remember that you may conduct any experiment in the Headmaster's Office."

"Really, Headmaster Dumbledore? Even Avada Lightning Chain?"

Dumbledore: I'm tired. Let it all be destroyed.

Oren strolled into the Great Hall and sat at the Gryffindor table.

Harry asked curiously, "Oren, where did you go yesterday?"

Ron echoed him. "Yeah, why didn't you come back to the dormitory?"

Hermione's little ears twitched as she caught the key phrase: not returning to the dormitory overnight.

"Hehe." Oren took a bite of a biscuit. "I went to study alchemy with the Headmaster."

Hermione asked in confusion, "You studied with the Headmaster? Albus Dumbledore is the greatest wizard in the British magical world today. What kind of alchemy were you studying?"

"Go on, get lost. High-level magic is none of your business, little witch."

Hermione's mouth twitched. Oren had to be lying to her. For the sake of the House points she had worked so hard to earn, she had to keep a close eye on him.