Vinson wasn't opposed to the idea. In fact, his student life at Hogwarts had been largely satisfactory.
Maybe being a professor isn't so bad?
Moreover, if nothing unexpected happened, Harry would also attend Hogwarts in the future.
Even if it was only to advance the growth progress of the Tree of Wisdom, taking a position at Hogwarts was a good choice.
"I can give it a try, Professor," Vinson said.
"Excellent," Professor Kettleburn nodded with satisfaction. "I'll contact Dumbledore, and you may receive a letter from Hogwarts in a few days."
When Vinson decided to try for Hogwarts, Professor Kettleburn's expression improved significantly, and he drank several glasses of mead in a row.
"Oh, right," Professor Kettleburn said as he tore off the bandage on his arm. "I almost forgot about this."
Vinson's gaze followed the professor's arm. The prosthetic limb was already battered, its surface covered in scratches of varying depths, along with several obvious burn marks.
He guessed those burn marks were left by dragons, considering that Professor Kettleburn often wandered into dragon reserves and habitats.
"This set of prosthetics you made for me won't last much longer," Professor Kettleburn said regretfully.
Vinson rubbed his forehead helplessly. "Professor, can't you take it easy?"
"You should say that to the dragons. They're the ones who can't take it easy," Professor Kettleburn said, detaching the prosthetic arm and handing it to Vinson. "Sorry, Little Ed. Is there any way to fix it?"
Vinson took the prosthetic limb and examined it carefully.
He remembered making it from a type of wood capable of self-repair, a material that also came from his 'mutation' ability.
But clearly, the damage on the prosthetic he now held exceeded the limit of its self-repair function.
He tapped it lightly and heard a faint hollow echo from inside.
"It's beyond saving, Professor," Vinson said with a frown. "What did you do with it?"
"Hm…" Professor Kettleburn stroked his chin. "Probably… first it was bitten by a Norwegian Ridgeback, then it was singed by the flames of a Hungarian Horntail while I was taming it… Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. The Norwegian Ridgeback that bit me was the one that hatched from the dragon egg you gave me."
Seeing Professor Kettleburn excitedly describing the scene, Vinson's temple twitched, and he couldn't help but sigh.
"Are you using it as armor?" he asked.
"Haha, after all, the prosthetics you make are high quality," Professor Kettleburn laughed heartily.
Vinson shook his head helplessly and handed the prosthetic limb back.
"This one is beyond saving. You'll have to make do with it for a few more days. I'll make you a new one, but it will take some time."
Professor Kettleburn took the prosthetic, put it back on, and flexed his arm.
"It's fine. It's not the first time I've worked with only one hand. You just go report to Hogwarts. You can work on it whenever you have time."
Vinson didn't know why Professor Kettleburn was so eager for him to take a position at Hogwarts.
But since it was the professor's good intention, Vinson accepted.
…
By the time he arrived home, the sky had completely darkened.
Vinson entered the Plantation and allowed the Devil's Snare to return to its post.
As the security system of the Plantation, the importance of Devil's Snare was self-evident, and taking it outside was honestly a risky move.
After all, this was not an independent space. Vinson's suitcase merely served as a portal.
Although Vinson's magic was sufficient to conceal this large area, strange creatures occasionally wandered in.
For example, last year, a horned serpent quietly snuck in—a monster covered in spikes, with a ridged back.
It was ultimately dealt with by the Devil's Snare.
To this day, the horns of that horned serpent were still part of Vinson's collection.
Vinson walked out of the first greenhouse, crossed a patch of grass, and arrived at the second shed.
The second shed was quite special. Due to the Undetectable Extension Charm, the space inside was astonishingly large—several basketball courts in size, stretching as far as the eye could see.
Larger plants were mostly grown here.
When he walked toward the center, a large tree gradually came into view.
It was an ebony tree.
Since it grew inside Vinson's Plantation, this ebony tree was naturally a "mutated" variety.
Unlike ordinary ebony, its branches had a strange dark-purple color, like blackened metal.
With a thought, information about the ebony tree surfaced in Vinson's mind.
[Species: Ebony]
[Level: 3]
[Traits: Regeneration, Lightweight]
[Status: Growing (12%)]
As is well known, ebony is naturally wear-resistant and heat-resistant, and is often used in wand-making.
Because of this, it was very suitable for making prosthetic limbs.
The prosthetic arm Vinson had given to Professor Kettleburn had been made from branches of this very tree.
The traits of regeneration and lightweight structure made it especially ideal for prosthetics, which was why he had kept this tree in the first place.
Unfortunately, the growth progress of the ebony tree was extremely slow.
It had reached Level 3 many years ago, and even now, the progress bar had only advanced to twelve percent.
When he walked beneath the ebony tree, Vinson paused slightly.
Why did he feel as though the tree's aura was different today?
He tentatively knocked on the trunk.
A small head with a few leaves poked out from a gap in the branches.
It was a Bowtruckle.
This creature was slightly larger than an ordinary Bowtruckle. Its dark green skin shimmered with a faint purple light, close in color to the ebony itself.
It blinked its dark, round eyes as it cautiously observed Vinson, while clutching a small twig in its hand as if it were a priceless treasure.
"When did you sneak in?" Vinson raised an eyebrow.
The Bowtruckle chirped a few times, clearly displeased that Vinson had disturbed its rest.
Vinson observed it more closely and found that the twig it was holding was indeed a fallen branch from the ebony tree.
Though withered, it still carried faint traces of magic.
"This is my tree," Vinson said with a chuckle, reaching out to take back the twig.
The Bowtruckle immediately recoiled and tightened its grip, hugging the twig closer.
It even glared at Vinson, making it very clear it had no intention of returning it.
"All right, suit yourself," Vinson shrugged helplessly and stopped arguing with it.
It seemed the Bowtruckle in front of him had already decided to make this tree its home.
As long as it didn't chew on the ebony itself, leaving it here was fine.
Vinson turned and left the shed. When he came back, he was carrying a small jar.
Inside the jar were fairy eggs, a Bowtruckle's favorite kind of food.
Returning to the ebony tree, Vinson opened the jar and gently shook it.
Hearing the sound, the Bowtruckle cautiously poked its head out, its eyes locked onto the jar.
The leaves on its head trembled slightly, as if it were weighing whether to approach.
"Want some?" Vinson smiled and shook the jar again.
The Bowtruckle immediately nodded.
"Then let's make a deal," Vinson said as he squatted down and tapped the Bowtruckle lightly on the head. "You can stay here, but you have to help take care of this ebony tree and make sure it doesn't get hurt."
The Bowtruckle tilted its head, seemingly considering the request.
A moment later, it nodded solemnly and opened its tiny claws, signaling for Vinson to hand over the fairy eggs.
"Here, little glutton," Vinson said softly as he took a handful of fairy eggs and placed them on the tree trunk.
The Bowtruckle immediately scrambled forward, hugged the pile of fairy eggs tightly, and made a series of strange, almost Gollum-like sounds while stuffing them into its mouth.
Seeing its satisfied expression, Vinson couldn't help but smile.
He placed the opened jar beside the ebony tree.
Then, he turned his attention back to the tree and took out his wand.
"Sectumsempra."
A sharp silver light flashed, and a side branch of the ebony tree snapped cleanly, falling to the ground.
Vinson bent down and picked up the branch, carefully examining the cut.
"Sectumsempra really is an excellent tool for trimming branches," he murmured. "Professor Snape truly is a genius."
The Bowtruckle saw Vinson cut the branch and immediately raised its head in alarm.
"Don't worry," Vinson said, waving his hand soothingly. "I'm just taking some material. The tree won't be harmed."
He gestured to the cut.
"Look, it's already starting to repair itself."
Thanks to the regeneration trait, a layer of fresh, tender bark quickly formed over the wound.
The Bowtruckle stared at the healed mark, confirmed that the ebony tree was not fatally damaged, and finally lowered its guard.
It returned to munching happily on the fairy eggs.
Vinson weighed the cut branch in his hand, feeling its balance and texture.
"Excellent," he said in satisfaction. "Much better than before."
He smiled faintly.
"Professor Kettleburn will definitely be happy with his new limbs."