Chapter 189

~ 81 Advanced Chapters Available now on my Patreon! Harry, of course, would not refuse old Parkinson’s kindness. As Mr. Septimus had taught him, the more friends you have, the more paths open to you. Groomed meticulously by Mr. Malfoy, Harry was quite adept at handling social interactions. What no one could have anticipated, however, was that from then on, a unicorn would start auditing classes at Hogwarts alongside the professors. Naturally, she only followed the second-year Gryffindors, occasionally joining the Hufflepuffs for a few lessons. Veratia certainly noticed the new governor’s wandering habits, but she had neither the time nor the justification to intervene—after all, the unicorn was a school governor, ostensibly “evaluating teaching quality.” What could she do about it? Still, it was admirable that Veratia planned to complete three years of university coursework in just one year. Indeed, undergraduate programs in England last three years, except in Scotland, where they take four. This difference stems from their educational systems. Scotland follows a structure of seven years of primary school, four years of secondary school, and one year of pre-university preparation. In contrast, England’s system consists of six years of primary school, five years of secondary school, and two years of pre-university preparation. As a result, Scottish secondary school graduates enter university a year earlier than their counterparts in other parts of the UK, and Scottish undergraduate degrees require four years to complete. In essence, though, the total time from primary school to university graduation remains a steadfast sixteen years, the same as most systems worldwide. Veratia didn’t see Poppy as a threat either—she was just a carefree unicorn, after all. Poppy also knew how to keep things in check, staying just shy of the point where Veratia might get jealous. On Monday morning, it was time for Herbology, as usual, with Gryffindor and Hufflepuff students attending together. Poppy, naturally, wouldn’t miss a class taught by the Hufflepuff Head of House. No matter how she changed, she remained a Hufflepuff at heart. When a unicorn appeared in the classroom, Professor Sprout was visibly startled for a moment. But she quickly regained her composure, realizing this unicorn was none other than the new school governor. Rumor had it she was here to evaluate teaching quality. Today’s greenhouse was lively, not only with the presence of the governor unicorn but also with tables full of bouncing mushrooms, hopping about merrily. “What are these?” Justin asked curiously, picking up a nearby twig and poking at one of the dancing mushrooms. The poke had an immediate effect—the mushroom let out a and bounced even more vigorously. “Bouncing Bulbs,” Ron answered from the side. “You see them all over the place. Next year, when we can visit Hogsmeade, if you pay attention on the path from Hogwarts to the village, you’ll spot tons of these things on both sides.” “I see…” Justin, being Muggle-born, looked intrigued. Soon, Professor Sprout emerged carrying a large pot of mushrooms. “Good morning, Professor,” the students said in unison. “Good morning, everyone,” Professor Sprout replied, setting the pot down. “Today in Herbology, we’ll be studying something I’m sure you’ve all seen before. So, who can tell me about the growing conditions and uses of Bouncing Bulbs?” To be fair, everyone recognized the plant, but when it came to explaining specifics, most students were stumped. Seeing no hands raised, Poppy lifted her front hoof. “Miss Poppy,” Professor Sprout said, “why don’t you give it a try?” In her soft, delicate voice, Poppy said, “Bouncing Bulbs need a moist environment to grow since they absorb water for nutrients. Unlike typical mushrooms, they require some sunlight rather than a completely dark, damp setting. They’re usually found growing near trees or shrubs.” “Additionally,” Poppy concluded, “the caps of Bouncing Bulbs can be used in potion-making, such as for Invisibility Potions.” “An excellent answer, Miss Poppy,” Professor Sprout said with a smile. “If you were a Hufflepuff, I’d award you five points.” “I be a Hufflepuff,” Poppy said, tilting her head proudly. The class erupted in good-natured laughter. No one could dislike this cheerful, approachable unicorn governor. “Next, I’ll teach you how to create an artificial environment for cultivating Bouncing Bulbs,” Professor Sprout continued. “As Miss Poppy mentioned, they typically grow near trees or shrubs, which is key. Bouncing Bulbs need organic matter as a growth medium—this can be soil, wood, straw, or other organic materials.” “Like regular mushrooms, Bouncing Bulbs require a nutrient-rich substrate, often made from livestock manure, cottonseed hulls, or sawdust, to support their growth.” “If we can replicate this environment,” Professor Sprout concluded, “we can cultivate Bouncing Bulbs. Now, select materials from those in front of you that you think would simulate their ideal growing conditions. You have ten minutes.” At Professor Sprout’s command, the students eagerly set to work. Sprout walked behind them, inspecting their choices. “I must remind you, Mr. Finnigan,” she said, standing behind Seamus with a complicated expression, “plants rarely thrive in grease…” Before she could finish, a burst of flames shot up from Seamus’s table, followed by a loud . His flowerpot exploded. “I think you should’ve warned him sooner, Professor,” Neville said, his face smudged with soot. Professor Sprout shook her head helplessly, waving her wand to cast on the two unlucky boys. The other students’ efforts were less hazardous, but most stuck to the materials Sprout had mentioned, like cottonseed hulls and sawdust, without much creativity. Some even chose rocks as a medium for the Bouncing Bulbs. “Not a bad idea, Mr. Weasley,” Professor Sprout said, nodding approvingly at Ron’s flowerpot. “Fallen leaves… You’ve grasped the environment Bouncing Bulbs thrive in. Yes, growing near shrubs and trees means they might indeed favor leaves.” “Five points to Gryffindor,” she added. Ron’s face flushed with pride. Truthfully, he’d only guessed, not entirely certain of his choice. Associating shrubs and trees with fallen leaves was instinctive—perhaps a memory from childhood. Before coming to Hogwarts, Fred and George often took him to collect leaves, picking out the toughest stems to snap against each other. To make the leaves sturdier, they’d tried various methods. Fred and George, for instance, soaked leaf stems in their father’s liquor. But they were too careless and got caught. When Mr. Weasley found out, he was furious, confiscating their liquor-soaked stems—and then used them to snap every single stem the three boys had collected. “That’ll teach you,” Mr. Weasley said triumphantly after his victory. The next class was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Since Professor Vinda Rosier had personal matters to attend to, the substitute teacher was, surprisingly, Professor Scamander. Not the socially anxious Newt, but Gellert. Professor Snape made no comment on this, though he’d coveted the position for years. Having it snatched away, even temporarily, left his mood fouler than usual. As a result, Gryffindor lost a cherished fourteen points. Though Gellert wasn’t using his true appearance, his style remained unmistakable—that rebellious phoenix-feathered, sunflower-parrot vibe. “Good morning, everyone,” Gellert said, standing at the front with a bright smile. “I’m your substitute Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Before we begin, I have a question for you all: who is Dumbledore’s favorite student?” At his words, every student from all four houses turned to look at Harry, who was sneaking a snack. Harry looked up, bewildered, still chewing on a Muggle treat Veratia had brought him. Gellert kept his cheerful smile, but Harry could sense his mood wasn’t exactly sunny. Suddenly, Gellert found Scamander far more tolerable compared to this scar-headed, glasses-wearing beast. But catching sight of Poppy out of the corner of his eye, he swallowed his irritation. At the same time, Gellert began scheming about giving Dumbledore and Harry a little payback. Gellert glanced around and spotted Hermione. Soon, Gellert’s gaze settled on Ron. This kid, a Weasley, was a descendant of Gareth, Harry’s best mate from a century ago. In this era, Ron was Harry’s closest friend, bar none. Gellert decided to observe him closely to see if the boy had the potential to be his “favorite.” To be clear, Ron wasn’t the dimwit some stereotypes painted him as. His talent in Charms was actually quite impressive. At least in Gellert’s eyes, Ron had a lot of potential. During class, Gellert gave Ron a few pointed pieces of advice. Harry hadn’t expected Gellert to take a shine to Ron, but he didn’t think much of it, assuming Gellert simply saw talent worth nurturing. When class ended, Ron was still buzzing with excitement. He’d never received such attention before. The substitute professor’s praise left him a bit full of himself. At dinner, Ron was still talking about it. “I think Professor Gellert’s really brilliant. He actually spotted talent like mine,” Ron said gleefully. “I’ve always thought you had it in you, Ron,” Harry said with a grin. But Ron’s good mood was short-lived. “Oh, please, Weasley, 2-16,” Draco’s voice sneered from behind. “The professor was just worried you’d lose interest in studying. You didn’t think it was because your Charms skills are good, did you? No way you believe that.” Ron’s face fell. “Shut it, Malfoy!” he snapped. “So what if I lost sixteen times? Want to try me? Bet you wouldn’t even do as well as I did…” “You? A lousy chess player like you?” Draco said with disdain. “I reckon I could take you.” “Why don’t you two play a match, then, Malfoy?” Hermione suddenly jumped in, switching to Ron-defense mode. “You think Ron’s no good at Wizard’s Chess? Prove it. Let’s see who’s better, and we’ll all be witnesses.” “Fine, let’s do it. Who’s scared?” Draco said, plopping down next to Ron. “Name the time, Weasley, Granger. When do we start?” Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but Ron tugged her back. He might not fare well against professional chess players, but against his classmates, he was brimming with confidence. “Just a match is boring,” he said. “How about a bet, Malfoy? What do you say?” “A bet?” Draco smirked. “You’re just the 2-16 loser from the Wizard’s Chess tournament. You really think you can beat me? I’ll make sure you never touch a chessboard again, Weasley.” “You’re on?” Ron asked, eyeing him suspiciously. “Of course! Stop dawdling, Weasley!” Draco said loudly. By now, first- and second-year Slytherins had gathered around, curious to see what was happening. “Here’s the deal, Malfoy,” Ron said, a sly glint in his eye. “Whoever loses has to shout ‘I love you, old bat’ in Potions class. How’s that?” At Ron’s proposed wager, Draco’s face froze. He couldn’t imagine what Snape’s reaction would be if he shouted that in Potions. “Draco, you’re not scared, are you?” a Slytherin classmate jeered. “Come on, it’s . You’re not actually afraid of him, are you?” --- Support me & read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon .com/windkaze