Chapter 12: Greenhouse One
Everything clicked into place.
Sean looked at his timetable again.
Ravenclaw, First Year:
Monday Morning:
Potions (Double)
Monday Afternoon:
History of Magic
Note: First-year classes run from Monday to Friday, 9:00 AM – 12:00 PM and 2:00 PM – 3:30 PM.
The first-year schedule was undeniably light, with classes ending at half-past three in the afternoon. This left a significant amount of time for independent study—a fact Sean intended to exploit.
Behind a half-eaten roast chicken on the long Ravenclaw table, Sean chewed thoughtfully. Herbology wasn't like Potions. While there were certainly dangerous plants to consider, there were also countless safe ones. He could avoid the dangerous specimens and use harmless magical plants like Dittany and daisies to grind his proficiency with the Panel.
There was just one problem: he needed access to the greenhouses. He had to find Professor Sprout and convince her to let him in. Perhaps offering to do odd jobs would work.
Just then, his ears perked up. A group of older Hufflepuff students were walking past, and their conversation caught his attention.
"Come on, hurry up. Professor Sprout needs help preparing for the first-years' class today. We're going to be busy for a while."
"It's the same every year. I don't mind helping the Professor, really. I just hope I don't run into any of those three-leafed plants with the jagged edges again. Do you guys know what those are?"
"What?! You mean you sneezed for three weeks straight and you never even bothered to look up what plant caused it?"
"I thought you lot were just badmouthing me behind my back."
"Well, we were definitely badmouthing you, but no one can badmouth someone for three weeks straight. It's not like dating you."
"Hey! Can't you guys just let that go…"
"Not after you put itching powder in our hats and our… under…"
"Heh heh, alright, alright, my mistake."
Seeing the three Hufflepuff boys about to pass by, Sean quickly shot up from his seat, his head popping up from behind the mountain of food on the table.
"The plant with the three jagged leaves is probably Sneezewort," he said, his voice clear and confident. "It's a toxic plant, primarily used in Befuddlement Draughts and Confusing Concoctions. The dried leaves can also be used to make Sneezing Powder. If you want to avoid its effects, you should stay at least two metres away, as its pollen spreads easily on the wind."
The three older boys stopped and turned, surprised.
"A knowledgeable little wizard," said a boy with fluffy brown hair, a teasing glint in his eye. "You must be a first-year Ravenclaw. Though you really shouldn't have told Bruce the truth. He deserved to keep sneezing."
"Hey, not in front of him…" the short-haired wizard next to him groaned.
"Not after the itching powder incident…" the third, slightly chubbier boy chimed in.
"Can we please just move on from that? I'm begging you…" the short-haired boy said, though the expression on his face was anything but repentant. In fact, if Sean wasn't mistaken, he looked like he was fondly reminiscing. "Oh, thanks for the tip, little guy. Sneezing for three weeks is no fun. We've got to run, but next time I see you, I'll buy you a bag of Bertie Bott's."
They were about to leave when Sean's voice stopped them again.
"I've always wanted to learn more about magical herbs. Could I… could I come with you to help Professor Sprout? I've memorized the entire first-year textbook, One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. I might be able to help."
He laid out his qualifications and waited for their verdict. In truth, even if they refused, he would have gone to the greenhouses on his own now that he knew they were preparing for a class. This was simply the more direct route.
"Huh?" The fluffy-haired boy looked hesitant.
"Seriously? You've memorized that whole brick of a book?!" the short-haired boy, Bruce, asked, his eyes wide.
"Bruce! Professor Sprout never said we could bring anyone with us!" the fluffy-haired boy, Leon, hissed, seeing where his friend's mind was going.
"Relax, Leon. There are no dangerous plants in Greenhouse One, remember? And an extra pair of hands will make things go much faster. We've got Divination this afternoon, and I have no intention of missing the tarot-themed tea party."
Bruce turned to Sean, a curious look on his face. "Sorry, but I have to ask you a few questions first. Just to make sure you're not one of those firsties who makes a complete mess of things." He adopted a look of mock seriousness. "What," he asked, his voice fast and sharp, "is the nickname for the Alihotsy tree?"
"The Hyena Tree," Sean replied instantly.
"The leaf shape of Dittany?"
"Ovate, oblong, or oblong-lanceolate."
"What is produced by Mistletoe?"
"Mistletoe berries. They're white berries and are an excellent ingredient for Common Antidotes and Forgetfulness Potions."
"You absolutely must come with us," Bruce said, grabbing Sean's hand with an expression of utmost seriousness. The other two Hufflepuffs looked on in astonishment. "I'm Bruce. These two are Leon and Pister."
"Sean Green."
And just like that, Sean had secured his access to Greenhouse One. Their tasks were to help Professor Sprout by weeding, harvesting some mature herbs, and clearing away any encroaching tendrils from the adjacent Greenhouse Three.
"Those dangerous plants are always trying to get into Greenhouse One," Bruce explained, throwing his hands up in mock exasperation before turning serious. "It's rare, but if you do spot any, tell the Professor immediately."
Sean nodded, committing the words to memory.
He followed the three older boys, who moved with an easy familiarity, out of the castle and into the gentle sun of the Scottish Highlands. Before them stood three domed buildings of varying sizes, their curved roofs made of great panes of glass that glittered in the light.
"One last thing," Bruce said, pointing to the nearest structure. "This is Greenhouse One. If you go into the wrong one by mistake… well, you'd better hope Professor Sprout is around. I'm kidding. Mostly. Just be prepared to run fast."
Though he seemed a bit of a joker, Bruce was completely serious when it came to important matters. Leon and Pister both nodded in solemn agreement.
They pushed open a creaky wooden door, and a wave of hot, suffocatingly humid air washed over them. The lenses of Pister's glasses instantly fogged over.
As far as the eye could see, there was a dazzling, layered tapestry of green. There were giant, gnarled pumpkin-like plants, potted Sneezewort with only their noisy top leaves visible, and wooden trellises around the perimeter tangled with climbing vines. The shelves were packed with flowerpots of every bizarre shape and size, their inhabitants a menagerie of magical flora. Some plants puffed out little clouds of smoke, some had leaves that pulsed like a beating heart, and others bore fruit that glowed like jewels.
A single, narrow path snaked through the jungle of vegetation.
And standing in the middle of that path was a short, stout witch with a cascade of flyaway grey hair.