The pieces connected. Shawn checked his schedule again carefully.
Monday morning: Potions class, Potions class. Monday afternoon: History of Magic. Note: First-year students' class time is Monday to Friday, morning 9:00–12:00, afternoon 14:00–15:30.
The Hogwarts first-year curriculum was notably relaxed, with no classes scheduled after half past three in the afternoon. This meant young wizards required stronger self-study abilities to keep up with their coursework.
After eating half a roast chicken at the Great Hall table, Shawn's cheeks bulged slightly as he chewed. Herbology wasn't like Potions—though there were still some dangerous plants to contend with, Shawn could avoid those entirely and use safe magical plants to build proficiency instead. Plants like dittany and daisies would serve perfectly well.
As long as he could convince Professor Sprout to allow him access to the greenhouses. Offering to do odd jobs would be ideal for that purpose.
At that moment, several older Hufflepuff students walked past, and their conversation caught his attention immediately.
"Walk faster. Professor Sprout needs to prepare for today's first class with the new students. We'll be busy again."
"It's like this every year. I'm happy to help the professor process herbs; I just hope I don't encounter those serrated three-leaf plants this year. Do you know what those things are?"
"Ha! You mean you sneezed for three weeks straight and still didn't bother looking up what herb it was?"
"I thought you lot were cursing me behind my back."
"We were cursing you, but nobody can curse someone continuously for three weeks. Just like you can't date someone continuously for three weeks."
"Oi! Do you have to always mock me like this—"
"If you didn't put itching powder in our hats and under—"
"All right, all right, I was wrong."
Seeing the three Hufflepuff students about to pass by, Shawn quickly stood and leant over the long table.
"Serrated three-leaf plants would be sneezewort. That's a mildly poisonous plant, often used in Confusing and Befuddlement Draughts. Dried leaves can also be processed into sneezing powder. If you don't want to be affected, it's best to stay more than two metres away, since the pollen floats about with the wind."
Shawn's voice was young but confident, causing all three students to stop walking.
"Well-informed young wizard. You must be a Ravenclaw first-year, right? Though you really shouldn't have told Bruce the truth. He deserves to sneeze harder." The student with fluffy brown hair was clearly teasing.
"Hey, at least not in front of others..." the short-haired student beside him said helplessly.
"If you didn't put itching powder in our hats and under—" a slightly chubby student interjected.
"Can you just drop this already? I'm begging you two..." He sounded pleading, but his face showed no genuine regret. Rather—if Shawn wasn't mistaken—that expression looked like fond reminiscence.
"Right, thanks for telling me that. Sneezing for three weeks straight is no fun at all. We've got to go now, but next time we meet, I'll treat you to Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans."
They were about to leave when Shawn spoke again quickly. "I've always wanted to learn about magical herbs properly. Can I come with you to help Professor Sprout process plants? I can identify all the plants in the first-year textbook. I might be useful."
Shawn stated his case clearly, then waited for their response. In truth, even if these older Hufflepuff students refused to take him, he would go on his own after hearing this news.
"Er..." The brown-haired student showed a conflicted expression.
"Really? You actually memorised that brick-thick book?!" Bruce's eyes widened considerably.
"Bruce! Professor Sprout never said we could bring people along!" The fluffy brown-haired student immediately realised what his companion was planning.
"Don't worry, Leon. Greenhouse One has no dangerous plants, remember? Plus, one more person means we'll finish much faster. There's Divination class this afternoon. I don't want to miss the tarot-style afternoon tea session."
The short-haired student, Bruce, looked at Shawn with obvious interest. "Sorry, but I have to ask a few questions first to make sure you won't be like those young wizards who make a complete mess of the greenhouse." He showed an apologetic expression.
"What's the nickname for the aconite tree?" His words came fast and urgent.
"Wolfsbane tree." Shawn answered immediately.
"The leaf shape of dittany?"
"Oval, oblong, or oblong-lanceolate."
"What does mistletoe produce?"
"Mistletoe berries. White berries that are excellent materials for making Antidotes and Forgetfulness Potions."
"Right, you're definitely coming with us." Bruce grasped Shawn's hand, his expression incredibly serious. The two students beside him also showed surprised expressions.
"I'm Bruce. They're Leon and Pist."
"Shawn Green."
Just like that, Shawn secured the opportunity to visit Greenhouse One. They were going there to help Professor Sprout process herbs—including removing weeds, collecting some mature plants, and expelling tendrils that extended from the more dangerous Greenhouse Three.
"Those dangerous plants are always particularly fond of Greenhouse One for some reason." Bruce spread his hands, then instructed Shawn seriously, "Though this situation is rare, if you find any invasive plants, remember to notify the professor immediately."
Shawn silently committed his words to memory.
Then, in the warm sunshine of the Scottish Highlands, Shawn followed the three familiar figures out of the castle and approached three dome-shaped buildings of different sizes. They had arched roofs with skylights made from large glass panels.
"One more thing—Greenhouse One is at the front. If you go to the wrong one, you can only pray Professor Sprout is nearby. Just kidding—but do remember to run fast if you make that mistake." Bruce explained many practical details to Shawn along the way. Though he didn't seem particularly reliable at first glance, he wasn't vague about important matters. As he spoke, Leon and Pist both nodded in clear agreement.
Pushing open the creaking wooden door, suffocatingly damp, hot air rushed over them immediately. Pist's glasses instantly fogged up with condensation.
The greenhouse was filled with layers upon layers of dizzying green plants. Giant, warty pumpkin-shaped specimens. Sneezewort planted in terracotta pots with only clusters of noisy leaves visible at the top. Wooden frames with intertwined vines ran along the greenhouse's perimeter, filled with various oddly shaped pots containing plants that either emitted thin smoke, had leaves that pulsed rhythmically like hearts, or bore glowing fruit resembling gems.
Only a narrow path remained clear between all the vegetation. At the centre of that path stood a short witch with flowing grey hair. A patched hat perched jauntily on her head.