After treating Harry's injuries, Adrian Wesson pulled up the dittany plant whose flower head he'd just snapped off.
This could not be wasted.
Harry shook out his arm and said, "Mr Wesson, I saw the letter you sent me."
"Of course," Wesson said cheerfully. "Otherwise you wouldn't have come here."
"Then…"
"Actually," Wesson cut him off, his tone turning suddenly severe, "you shouldn't accept an invitation from a stranger wizard so readily. It's dangerous."
Harry froze at Wesson's sudden seriousness; he clearly hadn't expected him to say that.
But he quickly calmed down.
"You're not a bad person," he said, very firmly, "and you healed my injuries."
Wesson smiled and shook the dittany roots in his hand, a little soil still clinging to them. "Ah, Harry, there are all kinds of bad people. Some of them smile, and some will even heal you—so long as it serves their other purposes."
"And you, sir?" Harry hunched his shoulders, startled.
Wesson arched an eyebrow.
"You're fairly lucky," he said lightly. "I only wanted to give you a scare."
Harry exhaled in relief.
"Right, enough chit-chat—let's do something useful." Wesson handed most of the dittany plant to Harry.
Harry took it on instinct and looked at Wesson in puzzlement.
"Your task now is to learn how to turn that dittany into a phial of Essence of Dittany," Wesson said.
Of course, that wasn't his real aim.
What he truly wanted was Harry and the Tree of Wisdom to share the same space.
That might be why the tree's growth bar had finally moved.
…
Wesson flicked his wand.
A table flew out of the greenhouse corner.
On it sat a battered cauldron and several ingredients for Essence of Dittany—pure spring water, ground dittany, unicorn tail-hair tips…
"Oh, and this."
Wesson passed Harry a wand. "It may not suit you, but we've nothing else to hand."
Harry took the wand.
He knew Wesson had just used a stick like this to cast marvellous magic.
He was too excited to speak.
"I don't recommend you study spellwork yet, but Potions is fine," Wesson explained. "Your magic isn't mature enough."
Harry nodded.
He didn't know why Wesson was willing to teach him potion-brewing.
But—
Whatever the reason, he was desperate to get his hands on anything to do with magic.
So, under Wesson's direction, Harry threw himself into his first attempt at brewing a potion.
…
As it turned out, brewing Potions was far less fun than casting spells.
At least for Harry.
After failing—he'd lost count how many times—to brew Essence of Dittany, he finally sagged.
"Sir, I think this might be a bit difficult," he ventured.
Wesson was, frankly, at a loss for words.
The boy truly wasn't cut out for Potions.
Look at that!
He'd got the stirring direction wrong for the third time.
The same step—wrong three times!
Three times!
"All right, Harry," Wesson sighed, pressing a hand to his brow. "Let's go again."
Harry wiped the sweat from his forehead and glanced up at the sky beyond the greenhouse. "Sir, I need to head back. It'll be dark soon."
Wesson raised an eyebrow, drew out an old but finely made pocket watch, and checked it. "Mm. It's already 16:00."
Time inside the plantation was almost the same as outside.
After all, the sky here was the same sky as out there.
Wesson slipped the watch back into his pocket and gave Harry a faint smile. "In that case, we'll stop here for today. Come back at the same time tomorrow."
"I still need to come?" Harry blinked.
Wesson patted his shoulder. "Potions practice takes persistence. Patience matters more than power."
Harry frowned, as if something had just occurred to him.
"Isn't this the sort of thing I'll learn after I start at Hogwarts?" he asked, puzzled.
"Oh, Harry, this is only pre-school work," Wesson said breezily.
"Pre-school?" Harry gaped. "Hogwarts has a pre-school?"
"Of course not." Wesson winked. "But you've met me. Learning a few skills in advance never hurts, does it?"
Harry opened his mouth, as if to argue, then shut it again.
"All right," he said with a shrug, resigned. "See you tomorrow."
Wesson nodded slightly and flicked his wand.
A breeze swept through; the scattered ingredients rose and flew neatly back onto the table, each to its place.
While the tidying finished—
"Eldra," Wesson called to the Tree of Wisdom, "how's your growth progressing?"
[Status: Growing (2%)]
The message made Wesson's heart leap.
So it was!
The whole previous week, before Harry Potter arrived, the Tree of Wisdom had sat at 1%.
After a single afternoon today, the bar had ticked up by another point.
Wesson was almost certain—
Harry Potter was the cause.
As he saw Harry to the door, Wesson took a green object from his pocket and handed it over.
Harry accepted the green, half-fist-sized thing and peered at it for a few seconds. "What's this?"
Wesson smiled mysteriously. "Chinese Chomping Cabbage."
"Chinese Chomping Cabbage?" Harry instinctively leaned back, holding his hand away from his face. "Doesn't sound very safe."
Perhaps his movement was too abrupt: the cabbage rolled over in his palm, revealing a mouthful of sharp little teeth aimed straight at him.
"Ah!"
Terrified, Harry flung it away.
Wesson gave his wand the lightest swish; a blue glimmer flickered, and the cabbage halted, hovering in mid-air.
"It doesn't like being tossed about," Wesson said with a smile. "Don't let the look of it scare you—it's actually quite safe."
The cabbage wriggled restlessly in the air, trying to wriggle free of the Levitation Charm, but Wesson's magic held steady as stone.
He floated the Chinese Chomping Cabbage back in front of Harry.
"Remember—don't be afraid," Wesson murmured. "Show composure and it will settle. Once it remembers your scent, it won't attack you."
Harry hesitated, then reached out and carefully took the hovering cabbage.
Strangely, it seemed to quiet at once, stopped struggling, and lay obediently in his hands. Its little teeth were still faintly visible, but it showed no sign of snapping.
"See?" Wesson said with a small smile. "It's already taking a liking to you."
Ordinarily, Chinese Chomping Cabbage wasn't this docile.
These ones had been mutated by Wesson; they'd lost some of their aggressiveness, but they obeyed their master's commands.
Rather than biting anything that moved, like normal Chinese Chomping Cabbage.
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