"Eldra," Adrian Wesson went on, "show me your current information."
[Name: Eldra (Tree of Wisdom)]
[Species: Oak]
[Level: 3]
[Traits: Analysis, Soul Link]
[Status: Growing (1%)]
…
Having learnt the Tree of Wisdom"s present state, Wesson was a little taken aback; his brows drew together.
For a full three years, the Tree of Wisdom"s growth progress had been stuck at 0%, without the slightest change.
No matter how he tended it, whatever methods he tried, he could not nudge that progress bar forward.
Yet today, that long-stalled bar had moved—by 1%!
"How… has this happened?" Wesson muttered, resting his palm lightly against the Tree of Wisdom"s trunk.
"Eldra," he called softly, "tell me why your growth suddenly advanced."
The tree"s branches gave a gentle shake; green light flickered a few times.
A moment later, a message flowed into Wesson"s mind.
[Cause: Unknown]
All right—seemed the Tree itself didn"t know either.
He rapidly ran through everything that had happened lately, trying to pick out if anything recent might have set this off.
"Could it be… Harry?" Wesson suddenly thought of the boy who had just left.
Harry Potter, the protagonist of this world, had strayed into his nursery today and shared a rather long conversation with him.
Perhaps Harry"s arrival had triggered some response in the Tree of Wisdom?
Wesson"s fingers tapped softly against Eldra"s trunk.
"In that case, when should I invite Harry over again?" he murmured.
——
A week later.
Because he hadn"t bought Dudley"s chocolate, Harry had been confined to his room.
Calling it a "room" was generous; it was only the cupboard under the stairs.
Harry lay cramped in the little cupboard, staring idly at the low ceiling above.
His fingers fidgeted without thinking, and he counted time in his head—another seven months before the Hogwarts letter would arrive.
Ever since learning he was a wizard, he"d been looking forward to going to Hogwarts.
Suddenly, a quiet knock broke the silence in the cupboard.
Harry froze, thinking he"d misheard.
The Dursleys never knocked on his door; they only yanked it open and barked orders at him to do chores—or to give him a scolding.
"Knock, knock, knock—"
There it was again.
Harry pulled the door open, puzzled.
No one stood outside.
He frowned, wondering if he"d imagined it—then a draught blew in from the end of the hallway.
At once, a letter appeared out of thin air before him, drifting down until it came to rest in his hands.
Harry"s heartbeat quickened; he tore the envelope and drew out the letter within.
[
Dear Harry,
I am Adrian Wesson—we met a few days ago. If you remember me, I"d like to invite you to visit my nursery again. I believe you"ll be curious about everything here, and there are a few things I"d like to share with you.
If you"re willing, please come to the nursery at 13:00 tomorrow.
I look forward to seeing you.
Adrian Wesson
]
When Harry finished reading, excitement surged in his chest.
"Tomorrow at one in the afternoon…" he murmured, full of anticipation.
However, reality cut in quickly.
The Dursleys would never allow him out—let alone to a stranger"s home.
He"d have to find a way to slip away.
As it turned out, fortune favoured him.
The next day, Mr and Mrs Dursley had a party to attend and wouldn"t be back until evening.
And his loathsome cousin Dudley went out at eleven o"clock.
Walking the road to Wesson"s shop, Harry silently thanked his luck.
When he stepped into the plant shop, it looked the same as before—except the door that had once stood in pride of place had been moved to a corner.
As Harry approached, the door opened.
Several tendrils snaked out from within.
Devil"s Snare!
Harry recognised it at once and felt every hair stand on end.
Just when he thought he"d be dragged in as he was last time—
The Devil"s Snare waved its vines in the air for a moment, then arranged them to form the words "Please come in".
Harry blinked, stunned, making sure he wasn"t imagining things.
The Devil"s Snare"s coils had indeed spelled out two neat words in mid-air, even with a touch of graceful flourish.
Perhaps seeing him rooted to the spot, the Devil"s Snare gave him a little push with a vine.
"Thank you, Mr Devil"s Snare."
Inside, the view was much as before: a space like a greenhouse.
Plants of kinds he did not recognise filled the place.
"Harry, welcome back," Wesson"s voice came from ahead.
He was standing before a plot of bare earth, planted in a row with identical green "grasses".
Curiously, each "grass" was taller than Harry.
Seeing Harry"s interest, Wesson explained, "This is dittany—an ingredient used in potion-making, with very strong healing properties."
The dittany in Wesson"s care, however, was clearly different.
Ordinary dittany topped out at about half a metre. These were at least a metre tall.
With a thought, Wesson let the dittany"s information surface in his mind.
[Species: Dittany]
[Level: 1]
[Trait: Gigantification]
[Status: Mature]
"Looking good," Wesson nodded to himself.
This, of course, was also the effect of his "Mutation" ability.
With a touch of specially brewed potion and guidance from his unique magic, he could produce dittany with a "Gigantification" trait like this.
From Wesson"s tests, the Essence of Dittany made from these plants was somewhat stronger than usual.
He pinched off a few dittany leaves and held them lightly, then half-dragged Harry to him and rolled up the boy"s sleeve.
Harry"s forearm was mottled with blue-purple bruises.
"Mm," Wesson frowned. "Honestly, it"s worse than I expected."
Harry lowered his head and spoke so softly he was barely audible. "How did you notice, sir?"
"It"s nothing for a wizard," Wesson replied with a smile.
In truth, he had observed Harry"s condition through the Tree of Wisdom.
[Name: Harry Potter]
[Occupation: Wizard (juvenile)]
[Status: Minor bruising]
…
"This might sting a bit."
Wesson crushed the dittany leaves and pressed the pulp over the injured patches on Harry"s arm.
Harry felt a prickle spreading across his skin, as if countless tiny ants were walking over it.
"It"s a bit itchy…" he said, brow furrowing.
Thin green vapour curled up—that was the dittany at work.
"Very effective," Wesson said, satisfied.
Harry nodded; though the sensation was odd, he could feel the pain in his arm ebbing fast.
He looked down. The blue-purple bruises had vanished, without even the faintest trace left behind.
"That"s… amazing," Harry couldn"t help but breathe.
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