For a long moment, Char stood in stunned silence. Then, a look of pure ecstasy broke across his face. He never expected that a sudden, wild idea could trigger such a strange and wonderful transformation in the Devil's Snare root under the influence of his Divine Edge Shadowless Spell.
A double silver-level reward, with one of the traits bordering on gold level. A reward tier of that magnitude was exponentially more powerful than a standard silver-level one. It could significantly shorten the time needed to advance from the gold to the platinum level. If he cultivated the Devil's Snare in large quantities, he might even be able to upgrade his [Chained Control Spells] ability directly to platinum, perhaps even seeing the first glimmer of a diamond-level reward.
On top of that, the silver-level [Fire-Fearing Skin] would allow him to stack his defenses at a much faster rate than before. Combined, these two rewards had multiplied the benefits of planting Devil's Snare several times over. Among all the plants he could currently cultivate in batches, this one was now in a league of its own, leaving the guardian tree and piranha algae far behind.
Char took a deep, satisfying breath. A deep sense of satisfaction filled him. Just then, his gaze shifted. He noticed another line of text, shimmering faintly within the Devil's Snare's reward information.
[Dark Magic Enhancement (Black Iron Level)]
The line of text was barely there, as if clinging to existence between reality and illusion. Had Char not been looking so closely, he would have missed it entirely.
A soft sound escaped him, his expression turning curious. "A third reward… Dark Magic enhancement? Is it because the Devil's Snare is already an aggressive plant, and it mutated under the influence of a dark magic spell like the Divine Edge Shadowless Curse? Is that what created this new reward?"
A moment later, he clenched his fists, his face alight with excitement. Whatever the reason, this bonus was incredibly useful. Even if he never learned another dark magic spell, it would directly benefit his Divine Edge Shadowless Spell. If he could stack this reward to a high level, on top of the cutting spell blessing he already possessed, the power of his Shadowless Spell would become so immense that even its creator, Snape, would be left speechless.
The only pity was that the reward was so new, barely reaching the Black Iron level. Raising it to a high tier would be a long and difficult process. But regardless, the unexpected transformation of the Devil's Snare left him with only one thought: "This is a huge profit!"
With renewed vigor, Char looked at the many untouched nodes on the root. He had to keep going. He raised his wand, waving it like a sword once more.
"Sectumsempra!"
Another sharp, invisible spell easily sliced through the Devil's Snare's tough skin, cutting open the magic node beneath. The residual magic of the Divine Edge spell once again formed a shimmering barrier over the wound, identical to the last. But this time, something was different. The Devil's Snare root seemed to have learned from the previous experience. Its magic no longer crashed against the barrier in waves. Instead, it was slowly, deliberately gathering its strength.
Char's eyes widened in surprise. "Does this Devil's Snare have a high IQ?"
He dripped a few more drops of potion onto the wound. Replenished with nutrients, the root's magical power immediately began to grow, but it didn't attack. It continued to accumulate its energy near the incision, like a reservoir filling to the brim.
The next moment, the dam broke. The magic surged forth with unprecedented ferocity, slamming into the barrier.
Crack.
The barrier shattered. Another magic node had been successfully processed.
Char's excitement grew. He cast the Divine Edge Shadowless Curse again and again, the potion in his hand rapidly dwindling. But with each successful cut, the magical aura of the Devil's Snare root grew denser and more powerful. On his system panel, the silver light on his Divine Edge spell grew more and more intense. It was just a hair's breadth away from a full promotion.
At that same time, Professor Sprout arrived at the location specified in the Ministry of Magic's letter. The moment she appeared, reporters from every wizarding newspaper, large and small, swarmed her like sharks smelling blood. Flashes lit up the corridor as they shouted their excited questions.
"Professor Sprout, is the Daily Prophet report true?"
"Did you really abuse your power for personal gain and get involved in an academic scandal?"
"How do you explain the tactical changes on the Quidditch team?"
"And the precious greenhouse plots? Your nephew received one as soon as he enrolled and is set to get more. Do you admit this?"
"Has academic injustice become an unspoken rule at Hogwarts?"
The swarm of vultures and their noisy accusations made Professor Sprout frown. But before she could speak, a figure like an angry lioness pushed through the reporters. Professor McGonagall strode to her side, her expression cold, her eyes blazing with indignation.
"Pomona, this is a shameful rumor and slander. I can't even imagine the dirty water they're trying to throw at you. These journalists don't care about the truth; they only want a sensational story."
Professor Sprout shook her head. "I'm afraid it's more than that, Minerva. There must be another force behind this. Discrediting me is just their first step. They're coming after Dumbledore."
Professor McGonagall's expression grew worried. "We all think so. And if that's the case, they won't listen to reason. This so-called hearing is going to be incredibly unfair. Dumbledore is trying to find a way—"
Before she could finish, a sickeningly sweet voice interrupted them. "I'm sorry, professors. I'm afraid I can't let you continue reminiscing before the hearing. Not that I'm worried you'll collude or fabricate evidence, of course. You wouldn't do that, would you? Hehe, this is just a routine procedure."
A short, stout figure with a large chin appeared before them. She was dressed in a pink suit with a velvet hairpin and lace decorations everywhere, looking for all the world like a toad in a skirt. The sight alone was enough to make one feel disgusted. Unaware of this, she stretched out a fat, short hand, attempting to shake theirs.
After receiving only disgusted glares from both professors, she withdrew her hand and giggled again. "Well, now we're acquainted. Let me introduce myself. I am Dolores Umbridge, a senior investigator at the Ministry of Magic and the head of the newly established Hogwarts Academic Injustice Investigation Team."
She turned her gaze to Professor Sprout. "Professor, please follow me. I'm afraid you'll have to wait in the lounge until all parties arrive." As she spoke, her small, dark eyes were fixed on Professor Sprout, a smile playing on her lips. But behind it was the look of a hungry hyena, eager for a feast. A palpable wave of malice emanated from her.
"Sectumsempra!"
With one last cast of the Divine Edge Shadowless Curse, another magic node was cut open. Char looked on with satisfaction, but then sighed as he glanced at the nearly empty potion bottle. Using the Shadowless Spell to cultivate the Devil's Snare was incredibly rewarding, but it consumed ten times more potion than the normal method. The supply Professor Sprout had left him, which should have been enough to process all the secondary nodes, was gone after less than ten first-level cuts.
He ran a hand through his hair, a headache forming. "Ten first-level nodes, and over two hundred second- and third-level nodes… and that's just the minimum to enter the next stage. To get the best rewards, I need as many nodes as possible. At this rate, the potion consumption will be astronomical."
But when he looked at his system panel, a satisfied smile returned to his face, despite the pain of his dwindling resources. Honed by the Devil's Snare, his Divine Edge Shadowless Spell now had only the faintest trace of bronze luster left. The rest was pure silver. It was truly just a step away.
"It looks like the promotion to silver level will happen much sooner than I expected," he mused. "But this last bit of progress can't be made up by practice alone." He understood why. "The Divine Edge curse is a form of dark magic. Proficiency isn't just about repetition; it's about the emotions in your heart. To use the Killing Curse, you need a true desire to kill. For the Divine Edge spell, the driving emotion is the pain of loss. I can't be promoted yet because the pain in my heart isn't strong enough to trigger that final change."
He shook his head, not in a hurry. The spell was already powerful enough for now. Promotion was just a matter of time. Besides, he had many questions about the cultivation process that he wanted to ask Professor Sprout.
Just then, he realized he hadn't heard from her since he'd started his work on the Devil's Snare. He glanced at the time. It was already dark. Where was his aunt?
He left the greenhouse and went to the living room. On the table, a letter left by Professor Sprout caught his eye. He opened it and read. She had only written that she had something urgent to deal with and didn't have time to say goodbye in person. It seemed reasonable, but as Char looked at the handwriting, he frowned. Something about her tone felt off, as if she was hiding something terrible.
It was just a feeling, but after spending so much time with her, he could sense her emotions. Something was wrong. He wracked his brain, but he couldn't remember anything significant happening to Professor Sprout during the Christmas holiday in the original story. The book had focused on Harry, his invisibility cloak, and the Mirror of Erised. This made him even more uneasy.
He called Liz, his expression serious. "Liz, tell me. Do you know what happened?"
Liz's eyes darted away. "Tonight's dinner is ready, Young Master! Beef stew in red wine, my specialty! And beef Wellington! Oh, and Liz learned to make a very unique pie called Stargazy Pie! The young master must be hungry after working so hard."
Before she could finish, Char's heart sank. Something had definitely happened, and Professor Sprout had told Liz not to tell him.
His voice grew sterner. "Liz, what happened? Are you going to hide things from me, your young master? Or lie? Is that in line with house-elf ethics? Do you want to be fired?"
At his words, Liz screamed in panic, large tears rolling down her face. "Liz doesn't want to deceive the young master! But Liz can't disobey the master's orders! Liz knows, but Liz can't say, I can't say—"
Char softened his tone. "Liz, you don't have to say it. Just point your finger and show me where I can find out what's going on. That's not telling, is it? You wouldn't be lying, and you wouldn't be disobeying my aunt's orders."
After a moment's hesitation, Liz stretched out a trembling finger and pointed to a drawer. Char strode over, pulled it open, and found a hidden copy of the Daily Prophet and a stack of letters.
He stared at the front-page headline and the slanderous, distorted article about Professor Sprout. An unstoppable rage surged in his chest. In this new world, he felt little sense of belonging, but Professor Sprout's constant care had made her feel like his true family—an elder who would give everything for him. He didn't care about anything else, but he could not bear seeing her insulted and slandered.
He saw the reporter's name, and a cold light flashed in his eyes. "Rita Skeeter. I'll settle this account with you, slowly."
He quickly opened the letters. There were messages of shock and condolence from Sprout's friends, and hidden at the bottom, a letter from the Ministry of Magic summoning her to a public hearing. It was signed by Cornelius Fudge, Umbridge, and other high-ranking officials.
Seeing this, Char understood everything. Professor Sprout was trying to shield him from all of this, going to the hearing alone. He was no naive eleven-year-old. He knew the wizarding world was not a fairy tale; it was rife with dirty politics. Fudge was a political creature through and through, a man who, as fans of the original story joked, wouldn't be out of place at a Death Eater banquet—the kind Voldemort himself might toast for services rendered. To help Fudge throw mud at Dumbledore, they would spare no effort in their attack on Professor Sprout. And Umbridge, the most hypocritical and disgusting villain in the original story, was in charge.
The thought of Professor Sprout enduring all this alone sent a wave of anger and a sharp, piercing pain through his heart.
"Cornelius Fudge. Dolores Umbridge." He clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white.
On his system panel, as if stimulated by the pain in his heart, the silver light on his Divine Edge Shadowless Spell suddenly blazed. The last trace of bronze vanished in an instant, replaced by pure, shimmering silver.
[Divine Edge Shadowless Spell (Silver Level)] Promoted!
But this time, Char didn't even glance at the promotion. His expression was more solemn than it had ever been. His only thought was how to fix this.
At the hearing, Umbridge's disgustingly smug smile was gone. She looked at Professor Sprout, who sat calmly, and a look of pure loathing flashed across her eyes. She never imagined that the Hufflepuff Head, who seemed so gentle and timid, would be so difficult. Professor Sprout hadn't come to be a scapegoat; she had come prepared, easily dismantling every attack aimed at Dumbledore. This rustic professor was tough.
Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, and even Snape, sitting alone in a corner, looked at Umbridge with disdain, as if watching a clown. Did they really think Professor Sprout would be easy to deal with? How foolish.
Behind the scenes, Cornelius Fudge also looked displeased, shooting Umbridge a vicious glare. Didn't you say you were confident? Why haven't you taken her down yet?
Umbridge's expression twisted. This hearing was crucial for her career advancement, and she wanted it desperately. Looking at Professor Sprout's calm face, she took a deep breath, suppressing the malice churning in her chest. Fine. She still had one last card to play. Everyone had a weakness, and she had already found this Master of Herbology's.
She spoke quietly. "Given that Professor Sprout vehemently denies the allegations, and the existing evidence seems insufficient, I believe it is necessary to bring in the other party accused of academic injustice: Ciel Sprout, a first-year student at Hufflepuff."
Her words hung in the air. "Perhaps he can help us better understand the truth of the matter."
At this, Professor Sprout's expression finally broke. She shot to her feet, her face a mask of fury. She stared at Umbridge, her voice low and dangerous.
"You dare?!"
Umbridge's hypocritical smile returned. She slowly took out a booklet and began flipping through the pages. "This is a necessary procedure to maintain academic fairness at Hogwarts. I'm simply asking Char Sprout to testify. Why are you so angry, Professor? Or are you afraid something will be exposed? For example…"
She opened the booklet and read aloud. "We found the entry and exit records for the Hufflepuff greenhouse. Char Sprout often went into the greenhouse late at night and did not come out until the early morning, sometimes not even returning to his dormitory to sleep. There are sixty-two such records. This means that for the first few months of school, this child spent most of his time in the greenhouse, perhaps even sleeplessly…"
"...perhaps even sleepless?" Umbridge continued, her voice dripping with false concern. "Ahem. I, for one, seriously doubt the authenticity of this record. And you, Professor, have promoted Char in public on many occasions. During the final tests for the Lumos Charm and the Levitation Charm held at Hogwarts, the top prize and honor went to Char Sprout. Yet, according to our findings, Char's magical talent is barely above the minimum admission score. Is such a performance truly reasonable? Your explanation, as I recall, is that Char never sleeps and can practice a single spell thousands of times without growing tired."
Umbridge looked around the room, a confident, victorious smile plastered on her face.
"So…" she purred, leaning forward. "I would like to invite Mr. Char Sprout to this hearing. For no other reason, of course, than to broaden my horizons."
The words struck Professor Sprout like a physical blow. Her body trembled suddenly, as if she had just heard something beyond belief. In the audience, Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, and Snape exchanged glances, their expressions turning utterly unreadable—a strange mix of pity and grim amusement.
Umbridge saw it all, and a thrill of triumph shot through her heart. She could already see it: a Head of House ruined, Dumbledore's reputation tarnished, and herself, rising from the ashes to seize power. With this victory, she could even compete for the position of Minister of Magic one day!
Unable to contain her glee, Umbridge announced immediately, her voice echoing through the silent room.
"Bring in Mr. Char Sprout! Let us all see what kind of… talent… he possesses."