Chapter 46. Professor Sprout
After chatting idly with Dumbledore for a while, Wesson finally stated his purpose.
"Professor, I'd like to ask whether you would allow me to include it in the practical portion of Care of Magical Creatures."
Wesson's tone held a touch of caution; after all, the Thunderbird's special nature made the matter somewhat sensitive.
"Why ever not?" Dumbledore looked surprised. "You have my full support, Wesson. Hogwarts will not interfere with your teaching unless—your students suffer serious injury. But I rather doubt that will happen; your abilities are well known."
Wesson was a little taken aback; he hadn't expected Dumbledore to put it that way, but he still asked, "Will the Ministry of Magic allow it? Keeping a protected magical creature in private seems illegal."
"This is not private keeping," Dumbledore said with a smile and a wink. "Let me think… You're keeping the Thunderbird because Hogwarts requires it for teaching purposes, aren't you? The Ministry will surely agree. It's entirely reasonable—and lawful!"
"All right, Professor, you're right."
Wesson let out a long breath. It seemed he'd been looking at it too narrowly.
Dumbledore cared not a whit that he was raising a Thunderbird.
He didn't even appear to care about the Ministry.
Then again, that was only normal—this was Dumbledore!
If he wished, the entire Ministry would have to bend to his will.
Dumbledore also stroked the little Thunderbird's neck—predictably, the little Thunderbird wasn't afraid of him at all.
"How does it feel to be teaching at Hogwarts?" he asked with a smile, still stroking.
Wesson froze for a moment, then shook his head. "In fact, I'm not sure yet."
"Not sure?" Now it was Dumbledore's turn to be puzzled. "What's happened?"
"Because I haven't had a class yet; my first lesson is this afternoon," Wesson paused, then went on, "Professor, I think we could consider increasing the number of Care of Magical Creatures lessons. It may be an elective, but..."
Increase the number of lessons?
Dumbledore indicated that he had never heard such a request.
After Wesson had talked at length about the importance of Care of Magical Creatures until his mouth was dry, Dumbledore finally couldn't tolerate any more.
"Perhaps you could set up a club devoted to Care of Magical Creatures." Leaving those words behind, he gave his wand a wave and "invited" Wesson out of the office.
Wesson felt a gust of wind carry him to the corridor outside the office.
That, too, was within Wesson's expectations.
At Hogwarts, Care of Magical Creatures was roughly the equivalent of physical education in an ordinary school.
Important, but not that important.
Schools might add more academic classes, but they rarely add PE.
So Wesson's suggestion about increasing lessons was just talk.
Besides, the Hogwarts timetable was already rather full.
Leaving the Headmaster's office, as Wesson was walking down the corridor thinking about a name for the little Thunderbird, he suddenly slapped his forehead.
He had left the little Thunderbird behind in the Headmaster's office.
.....
When lunch ended, Wesson was invited by Professor Sprout to her greenhouse.
On the way to the greenhouse.
"Do you remember back when you were a student?" Professor Sprout said as they walked. "You'd often come help me look after the herbs, then beg me for a few seeds... Ah, when you get old you start thinking about the past."
"That really helped me a great deal, especially during my later travels," Wesson said with a smile, and added, a touch regretfully, "In fact, I'm very sorry I never came to visit you after I graduated, Professor."
At Wesson's words, Professor Sprout's eyes curved into slits as she smiled, and she reassured him, "Oh, that's nothing to worry about, Wesson. So long as what you learned from me proves useful, that's enough."
By then they had reached the greenhouse door.
Professor Sprout's greenhouse and Wesson's plant nursery were two entirely different styles.
The greenhouse was filled mostly with herbs that required painstaking care, and it included quite a number of plants that were extremely precious outside. With many of them, the slightest misstep made survival difficult.
Wesson's plant nursery, on the other hand, had basically everything; common and rare alike were planted together as he pleased. As for whether they would survive—that was up to fate.
However, owing to the special nature of Wesson's magic, the survival rate was passable; indeed, with each generation, the plants' vitality tended to grow stronger and stronger.
It was just that some plants went awry as they grew; for example, those highly poisonous dittany—who would have thought that life-saving dittany would suddenly turn into a poison?
.....
"Do come in." Professor Sprout pushed open the greenhouse door, then took a pair of thick dragon-hide gloves from a nearby shelf and handed them to Wesson. "A new batch of Fanged Geraniums has just arrived; their roots happen to need a bit of work. You'll help me, won't you? Just like before."
"Fanged Geraniums?" Wesson raised an eyebrow, took the gloves, and put them on with practised ease. "I hope I still remember how to do it."
Despite what he said, Wesson hadn't forgotten.
Wesson had always kept the methods for tending plants firmly in mind.
For him, looking after plants was like riding a bicycle—once learned, never forgotten.
A moment later.
"You're still as quick as ever," Professor Sprout said, nodding as she watched Wesson deftly tend to the Fanged Geraniums. "It seems you haven't let yourself go to seed after graduation."
As he trimmed the Fanged Geraniums' roots neatly, Wesson said with a laugh, "Of course not, Professor. In fact, I've been running a plant nursery all along, to store the magical plants I found on my travels."
"Heavens, you never told me that!" Professor Sprout looked at him in surprise. "And now? How is your nursery doing?"
Wesson lifted his chin with a touch of pride. "If there's a chance, I'll take you to see it."
"Then I'll look forward to your invitation, Professor Wesson," Professor Sprout said, finishing with the last of the Fanged Geraniums and wiping the sweat from her brow. "Thank you so much; otherwise I doubt I'd make it in time for my afternoon class."
Preparing for lessons had her run off her feet.
Wesson took off the dragon-hide gloves and set them aside. "You can, as before, pick a few students to help."
At that, Professor Sprout smiled easily. "That won't do, Wesson. Not every student has your talent. I might end up having to clean up after them."
"If you don't have students, I can always come help you," Wesson said with a shrug. "Just like before."
Professor Sprout looked satisfied, but still shook her head. "Professors are far busier than students."
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