Chapter 18: The Incident in Herbology

Daphne was totally bluffing. The Slytherins didn't have a class next period. If they did, it would've been Flying with the Gryffindors out on the grounds, but there were no Flying lessons the first week of term. She'd just made up an excuse to drag Edward away. "Not bad. I'm finally seeing some Slytherin in you," Daphne said with a slight smirk once they were out of earshot. "Showing off your magical talent in front of McGonagall, acting like you're helping those Gryffindor dimwits to win their favor, but really racking up points for Slytherin." "I've got to admit, that was a clever move." "But a word of advice: don't spill everything you know. Some things—especially the important ones—are better kept in your head," she added. Edward finally realized Daphne had completely misunderstood his actions. He'd only wanted to genuinely help his classmates. No ulterior motives whatsoever. But after that class, Edward's reputation seemed to spread like wildfire through Hogwarts. Among both students and staff. A talented Slytherin wasn't exactly rare—Snake House was full of gifted prodigies. But a Slytherin who eagerly shared study tips in class? That was rarer than Merlin's underwear. Ron, in particular, went all out, proclaiming to anyone who'd listen that Edward was the only "normal" Slytherin. Once, he got so carried away in the Great Hall that he didn't notice Snape standing right behind him. So, Snape docked Gryffindor two points for "insolence." Still, it soon became clear that Edward's talents weren't limited to Transfiguration. Herbology was a class most students loved. The teacher, Professor Sprout, was a short, plump, and incredibly kind witch. She was also the Head of Hufflepuff. Herbology classes took place in the greenhouses behind the castle, focusing on magical plants and fungi. The subject was foundational for Potions and Alchemy. Unlike dry theory, Sprout favored hands-on lessons, which was a big reason students enjoyed the class. Plus, compared to the strict McGonagall or the sharp-tongued, sarcastic Snape, Sprout was warm and gentle with every student. That was another reason the class was a favorite. This Wednesday's Herbology class paired Slytherin with Ravenclaw. The morning greenhouse was warm, with shelves packed with all sorts of plants, some still glistening with dew, creating a refreshing atmosphere. As soon as Edward stepped inside, he caught whispers from the Ravenclaw side, picked up crystal clear by his gift of foresight. "Look, Edward's here!" "Wow, he's so gentlemanly." That was the reaction from most of the girls. "Tch, just a pretty boy. If he didn't make Ravenclaw, his brain's probably not *that* great." The boys, of course, had a different take. "Good morning, everyone!" Professor Sprout clapped her hands, quieting the class. "Today, we're studying Devil's Snare. Can anyone who's done their prep tell me what it is?" she asked, rubbing her hands together eagerly. Edward had read through the entire first-year curriculum and knew exactly what Devil's Snare was. But today, he decided to keep a low profile and stay humble. Others, however, were quick to act. Daphne's hand shot up like a striking python, followed by a few Ravenclaws. "I saw you, Miss Greengrass. You were the fastest. Go ahead," Sprout said. The Ravenclaws let out groans of frustration. "Devil's Snare is a deadly plant that uses its tentacle-like tendrils to trap victims. It thrives in dark, damp environments, shying away from light and warmth. Fire is the best weapon against it," Daphne recited, practically word-for-word from *One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi*. The Ravenclaws' groans only made her smirk. "Excellent! Three points to Slytherin!" Sprout said with a warm smile, never stingy with praise. "As Miss Greengrass said, Devil's Snare is a highly dangerous plant, often found in dark, damp places. It grows quickly, even from a tiny fragment, in areas without sunlight." She added a few more details, then instructed the students to form groups of three to observe the Devil's Snare in a glass case. Then, she darkened the greenhouse and had the students cast the Lumos Charm to observe the plant's reaction. Edward, Daphne, and Ravenclaw's Michael Corner were grouped together. "Lumos!" Beams of light flickered across the darkened greenhouse as students watched the Devil's Snare closely. But Michael seemed more interested in Edward than the plant. "So, are all those rumors about you true? Fifty points from McGonagall in Transfiguration, turning a matchstick into a sword on your first try, and making everyone's matchsticks turn into flying mice?" Edward frowned, while Daphne quickly covered her mouth, her laurel pendant trembling as she fought back laughter. "I don't know who you heard that from, but it was only twenty points, a sword-shaped pendant, not a sword, and no flying mice—just silver needles," Edward clarified. "Oh, I knew the Weasley twins were full of it, but still, that's impressive! With a brain like yours, you should've been in Ravenclaw," Michael said with a sigh. Edward just smiled, not responding. He was more interested in studying the strange plants—outside his mother's lab, the greenhouses were the only place to see them. Suddenly, a flash of white light cut through the room, followed by a chorus of gasps from the other side of the greenhouse. Glass shattered, screams rang out, and crashes echoed. Everyone turned toward the commotion. "Help! Somebody, please!" a girl's piercing scream stabbed at their eardrums. "Damn it, this thing's getting tighter!" a boy's panicked shout followed. Edward squinted, sharpening his senses, and finally made out the scene in the darkness. At the far end of the greenhouse, students had scattered. Broken glass littered the floor, and a writhing mass of Devil's Snare had ensnared two students—a boy and a girl—struggling against its tightening vines. It was Ravenclaw's Padma Patil and Slytherin's Pansy Parkinson. But Professor Sprout wasn't in the greenhouse—she'd stepped out to grab something. "We should get out before that thing reaches us. Let Sprout handle it," Daphne said coolly, standing to head for the door. But when she turned, Edward was already gone. His figure shot past her, charging toward the Devil's Snare. A straight sword, drawn from who-knows-where, gleamed coldly in his right hand.