Everything suddenly connected.
Sean checked his timetable again.
Ravenclaw – First Years
Monday Morning
Potions / Potions
Monday Afternoon
History of Magic
Note: Classes run Monday to Friday.
9:00 AM – 12:00 PM, 2:00 PM – 3:30 PM.
Hogwarts' first-year schedule was light—almost suspiciously light.
Past 3:30 p.m. every day, there were no lessons.
It meant one thing:
self-study mattered more than anything.
Sean swallowed the last bite of roast chicken.
Herbology wasn't like Potions—while magical plants could be dangerous,
he could choose safe ones to build experience:
White Fresh, Daisies, simple healing herbs.
As long as he could find Professor Sprout and convince her to let him into the greenhouse—
even just as a helper.
Anything to get close to the plants. That's where improvement starts.
Just then, a group of older Hufflepuffs passed by the table, chatting loudly enough to catch his attention.
"Come on, hurry! Professor Sprout needs us to prep for the first-years' lesson. We're in for another busy day."
"Happens every year. I don't mind helping with plants, honestly…
Just hope we don't run into those serrated three-leaf things again. You know which ones?"
"Wait—three weeks of nonstop sneezing and you never looked up the name of the plant?"
"I thought you lot were cursing me behind my back."
"Oh, we were definitely cursing you.
Just not for three straight weeks.
Same way you can't hold on to a relationship for three straight weeks."
"Hey! Can't you stop rubbing that in—"
"If you don't stop putting itching powder in our hats and un—"
"Alright, alright! My fault, my fault!"
Sean stood up before they could walk past, poking his head above the table.
"Serrated three-leaf plant—should be Sneezewort.
It's toxic and commonly used in Confusing Concoctions and Befuddlement Draughts.
Dried leaves are the main ingredient in Sneezing Powder.
If you want to avoid it, keep a distance of at least two meters.
The pollen spreads easily."
His voice was young but steady—enough to make the three boys freeze in place.
"Smart little wizard—definitely a Ravenclaw, huh?"
The curly-haired one grinned.
"But mate, you really shouldn't have told Bruce. He deserved every sneeze."
"Hey!! At least don't say that in front of strangers—"
"If you hadn't put itching powder in our hats and un—"
"Can we PLEASE drop that—"
Sean could swear the boy's face wasn't regretful—it looked… nostalgic?
"Thanks though," Bruce laughed.
"Three weeks sneezing wasn't fun. Anyway, we've gotta run. Next time we meet, I'll buy you Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans."
They were turning to leave when Sean spoke again:
"I've always wanted to learn more about magical plants.
Could I go with you and help Professor Sprout in the greenhouse?
I've memorized every plant in the first-year textbook.
Maybe I can be useful."
The three froze.
"You what?"
"You memorized that brick-thick textbook?" Bruce stared, wide-eyed.
"Bruce! Professor Sprout never said we could bring first-years,"
the curly-haired boy hissed.
"Relax, Leon," Bruce waved him off.
"Greenhouse One has nothing dangerous, remember?
And four hands are better than three—
we still have Divination this afternoon, and I am not missing Tarot-tea time."
He looked at Sean, eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
"Sorry, but I need to ask a few questions first.
Last thing we need is another disaster in the greenhouse."
His expression became solemn.
"Nickname of the Alihoty Tree?"
"Hyena Tree."
"Shape of White Fresh leaves?"
"Oval, oblong, or lanceolate."
"What does Mistletoe produce?"
"Mistletoe berries. White berries—excellent for Antidotes and Forgetfulness Potions."
Bruce grabbed Sean's hand, sincerity blazing in his expression.
"Please come with us."
Leon and Pister both looked stunned.
"I'm Bruce. That's Leon. And this is Pister."
"Sean Green."
And so, Sean earned a chance to enter Greenhouse One.
They would be helping Professor Sprout manage plants:
pull weeds, harvest mature specimens, and push back creeping tendrils that sometimes extended from Greenhouse Three.
"Those troublemakers always want to sneak into Greenhouse One,"
Bruce muttered.
"Rare, but if you see anything—not normal—call the Professor immediately."
Sean nodded firmly.
Sunlight washed over the Scottish Highlands as they walked past the castle walls,
toward three glass-domed buildings.
Arched roofs, tall windows, and gleaming glass panels made them shine like crystal shells beneath the morning light.
"One last thing," Bruce added casually.
"Greenhouse One is the first one in the line.
If you go into the wrong one… well, pray Professor Sprout shows mercy.
Kidding—just run very fast."
Despite his playful tone, his explanation was precise,
and Leon and Pister nodded in agreement.
They pushed open the wooden door, and a wave of hot, humid air surged out.
Pister's glasses fogged instantly.
Sean was stunned.
Rows upon rows of lush, vivid green filled the greenhouse:
huge gourd-shaped plants with knobbly hides,
Sneezewort beds with only the tops of rustling leaves showing,
vines draping over trellis frames covered in pots.
Some plants puffed smoke.
Some leaves pulsed like beating hearts.
Others bore glowing, gem-bright fruit.
Only a narrow walkway remained clear.
And at its center stood a short witch, gray hair tied back, cloak sleeves rolled high.
Professor Pomona Sprout.
Advance Chapters available on Patreon