As Char observed the sudden changes on his system panel, his mood brightened considerably. First Rita Skeeter's downfall, and now this? It felt like a triple blessing.
His gaze landed on the platinum-level Levitation Charm, and his eyes gleamed with anticipation. From past experience, he knew that a spell's evolution from gold to platinum level marked a significant shift from the macro to the micro. The scale of such a qualitative change was often greater than all previous upgrades combined.
He had just begun cultivating the next generation of Margarite plants, so the promotion of the Levitation Charm could not have come at a better time. With a renewed sense of purpose, Char quickened his pace and returned to the greenhouse.
The moment he stepped inside, a wave of stifling heat washed over him. The last batch of Margaritas had been harvested, and the once-vibrant sea of flowers was gone, revealing the bare earth beneath. Yet, in Char's eyes, the monotonous black and brown soil was a canvas brimming with potential, a place where vigorous vitality was brewing, ready to be unleashed.
The seeds he had just planted were all selected from plants with excellent traits, and the magical aura they exuded was already more active than the previous batch. This brought a smile to Char's face; it meant the rewards from this harvest would be even greater. By his calculations, after about five more generations of selective breeding, the gap between them and the first batch of Margaritas would be immense. However, the process was incredibly time-consuming. If possible, he hoped to accelerate the breeding breakthrough, and for that, he would need the help of his newly enhanced Levitation Charm.
Char walked to an open space in the corner of the greenhouse. He planted another set of the same Margarite seeds into the soil, then gently waved his wand.
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
The platinum-level charm flowed from his wand, and Char immediately felt the qualitative change. Previously, the charm could only act on a single object. Now, it felt as though the spell could be divided into countless parts, each capable of acting independently. This meant he could use its full power to levitate a massive beast, or simultaneously float a multitude of smaller objects.
Just how small could those objects be? That depended on both his mastery of the charm and his own magical perception. A strange and exciting thought occurred to him.
"If the spell's effect can penetrate to the microscopic level... what if I could act on individual molecules? Negate the forces between them? What would that achieve? And if I could go even deeper, to the atomic or electronic level... what then? Could a charm with that capability still be considered a basic spell?"
Countless thoughts raced through his mind. But just as quickly, Char pushed these ambitious magical concepts, currently far beyond his grasp, to the back of his thoughts. For now, he needed to focus on the Margarites in front of him.
With a slight flick of his wand, the levitation spell's magic dispersed, breaking into tiny sparks of light that settled over the newly planted seeds. In the next moment, the seeds and the surrounding soil seemed to be in a zero-gravity environment, the effects of gravity largely offset.
Throughout this process, Char's eyes were fixed on the reward light orbs hovering above the seeds. As soon as the spell took effect, the orbs began to flicker erratically. When bright, they shone more brilliantly than any other Margarite in the greenhouse; when dim, they faded to the point of near-extinction. The performance was a veritable roller coaster.
Char wasn't surprised. It was common for plants to show signs of stress when their environment changed. Even in the Muggle world, potted flowers taken from a perfect greenhouse often struggled to adapt to a new home. Some delicate specimens simply withered and died during the transition. This was a mere change in lighting; the Margarite seeds were experiencing a fundamental shift in gravity. Even magical plants would need time to acclimate.
Deciding to let them adapt, Char turned to leave, but his footsteps paused. He noticed a fine mist rising from the soil under the spell's influence. After a moment's thought, he understood. "Normally, water is locked deep in the soil, making it hard to evaporate. But now, the Levitation Charm has loosened the soil, increasing the gaps between particles. Unbound by gravity, the water can escape."
He wasn't overly concerned. If water evaporated faster, he would simply water them more. Char grabbed a watering can and sprinkled the area. A strange scene unfolded. The stream of water, under the influence of the Levitation Charm, atomized into a uniform mist that diffused gently into the soil, maintaining its moisture. The area became shrouded in a soft, cloud-like fog.
But it wasn't the mist that captured his attention; it was the diffusion rate. "Atomized water droplets have a larger surface area, so they diffuse faster and are absorbed more efficiently," he mused. "It saves water, too... wait. What if this was used in potions? Would it have a similar effect?"
His eyes lit up. He immediately took out the Devil's Snare root and a new bottle of potion from Professor Sprout. With a practiced wave of his wand, he cast a sharp, non-verbal severing charm, precisely cutting another magic node on the root. Next, instead of applying ten drops of potion at once as he had before, he administered it one drop at a time, using the Levitation Charm to atomize each one. The misty potion enveloped the cut on the Devil's Snare and was absorbed at a visibly faster rate, with far less magical energy escaping in the process.
After careful calculation, Char came to a stunning conclusion. "Administering the potion this way saves at least twenty percent of the liquid, and the effect is just as good, if not better!"
This discovery was thrilling. The sheer amount of potion required to cultivate Devil's Snare using his method had been a persistent headache. Atomization would relieve that pressure significantly.
"At this rate, this bottle of potion should be enough to—"
Char fell silent. He had to be realistic. The Devil's Snare root was an insatiable consumer of magic potions. Even with this new, more efficient method, this single bottle wouldn't be nearly enough for it to mature, let alone for the large-scale cultivation he planned.
Could he get more from Professor Sprout? He shook his head. If it were a common potion, she would have likely given him a cauldron-full. The fact she could only spare one bottle at a time spoke to its immense value. He couldn't ask her for more.
"So where do I get this potion?" he sighed. The only possibility he could think of was the compensation the Ministry of Magic had promised after the hearing. "For anyone else, a verbal promise from the Ministry would likely be bogged down in bureaucracy for ages. But Dumbledore secured this for me... it should be faster, right?"
As he was comforting himself, several loud cracks of Apparition echoed from outside the Sprout family home.
Char's expression hardened. "More visitors? Is it Umbridge seeking revenge? Or the Ministry, refusing to give up?" He tightened his grip on his wand and strode out of the greenhouse.
Professor Sprout was already there, wand clutched tightly, her face a mask of fury. "If anyone dares to cause trouble for our family again," she seethed, "I'll plant them in the ground and turn them into fertilizer myself!"
Just then, a familiar voice called out. "Easy now, Pomona, and you too, Mr. Sprout."
Professor Sprout blinked. "Dumbledore?"
Indeed, Dumbledore, followed by Cornelius Fudge and several other Ministry officials, walked into view. Fudge forced a smile. "Professor Sprout. We're here to negotiate terms."
With Dumbledore's explanation, Char and Professor Sprout understood. Fudge had come personally to discuss compensation. Looking at the Minister's strained smile, Char recognized him for what he was: a consummate politician, able to bend and stretch without shame. The current public opinion must be overwhelmingly against him for the Ministry to be this desperate to calm the situation. That, combined with Dumbledore's intervention, was why Fudge had humbled himself to come in person.
Dumbledore coughed twice, winking at Char and Professor Sprout. "Minister Fudge believes that Hogwarts' educational programs, particularly in Herbology, have not received adequate support over the years. Therefore, it has been approved that Hogwarts will receive a large amount of funding for renovations this year. Ahem, the greenhouses, especially, will receive more funds than ever for maintenance, repair, and even partial expansion. A benefit for all Hogwarts teachers and students, I think."
He continued, "Additionally, there is the matter of compensation for the damage to your personal reputation, Pomona, and that of the Sprout family. And, of course, personal compensation for young Mr. Sprout here."
Fudge chuckled nervously and quickly stated his conditions. "The Ministry of Magic is willing to cover all expenses and resources for Char's Herbology studies for the duration of his time at Hogwarts. We can sign a contract, funded directly from the Ministry's monthly appropriation. In addition, as an apology, the Ministry will allow Char to enter our oldest and most precious warehouse and select one item to take with him."
Professor Sprout frowned, her expression showing clear dissatisfaction. "Herbology resources? Do you think the Sprout family cannot afford to fund Char's studies? And how much can one young wizard possibly require? As for your 'ancient and precious' warehouse," she snorted, "everyone knows the Ministry has many fine things, but which Minister in your generation has ever bothered with proper warehouse management? No matter how wonderful an item once was, what's left after centuries of neglect? A pile of rubbish. Asking Char to pick out treasures from there? What's the difference between that and sending him on a fool's errand to find a needle in a haystack? Minister Fudge, do you take us for country bumpkins? Is this your sincere offer?"
Fudge was left speechless, silently regretting his approach. He'd thought that with the Sprout family's decline and Professor Sprout's obsession with Herbology, he could get away with a low-cost solution. After the fortune Dumbledore had already squeezed out of him, his coffers were hurting. But he had underestimated the professor.
Just as Professor Sprout was about to continue her tirade, Char suddenly spoke up, his eyes wide with apparent delight.
"Minister Fudge, is it true? The Ministry will really pay for my Herbology studies? Any resources I need, the Ministry will provide?" He then adopted a slightly sheepish look. "I do use a lot of potions in my experiments... and some of them aren't cheap. Is that really okay?"
Fudge saw his chance and seized it, breathing a sigh of relief. He was even a little grateful. The boy wasn't as difficult as he had seemed at the hearing. A good, understanding child.
"Of course! What's that to the Ministry?" Fudge said quickly. "Providing Herbology resources for one student is no trouble at all. As long as you aren't trying to resell them or requesting impossibly rare items, the Ministry can procure it."
Char's face lit up with an interested expression. "Really? That's wonderful! Minister, shall we sign the contract now?"
Professor Sprout looked from Char to Fudge, a thoughtful look flashing in her eyes. Then, with a helpless sigh, she looked at Char. "Char, you are far too honest." She shot Fudge a hateful glare that seemed to say, 'You got off easy!'
Fudge couldn't help but smile. Finally, after days of crushing pressure, he felt a bit of his good humor return. This had gone much more smoothly than expected. He had a second, more expensive offer prepared, but the boy himself had relented. He chuckled to himself. Those Hufflepuffs really were a decent and honest lot; they didn't try to squeeze you for every Knut!
As for Char's potion consumption, Fudge dismissed it. The Ministry supported countless do-nothing parasites; what was one more small expense? Could one little wizard, conducting a few experiments and cultivating a few plants, really bankrupt the entire Ministry of Magic? The idea was laughable.
When the contract was drafted, Fudge gave it a cursory glance before signing his name with a flourish. Char reviewed it as well. The restrictions were minimal: he couldn't waste resources, had to use up one batch before requesting the next, and was forbidden from reselling anything. Dumbledore gave him a subtle nod of approval. Char boldly signed his name.
A flash of light sealed the magical contract.
"So, it's done?" Char asked eagerly. "I can ask the Ministry right now for any supplies I need for Herbology, and you'll give them to me?"
After receiving an affirmative, Char's eyes lit up. He immediately held up the bottle of potion he used for the Devil's Snare. "In that case, I'll take one hundred bottles of this magic potion to start."
Fudge was stunned, doubting his own ears. "One... one hundred bottles?!"
The Ministry official behind him leaned in and whispered, "Minister, that appears to be the cultivation potion for Devil's Snare. A single bottle is quite expensive on the market. One hundred bottles would be..."
Hearing the figure his staff reported, Fudge's brow furrowed. This was much more than he anticipated. But then he saw Char's face, full of earnest anticipation, and he relaxed. He even felt like laughing. What was he worried about? The boy was young, after all. And like many Hufflepuffs, he had a tendency to want to stock up on supplies. It was a well-known trait. A bit of a hoarder, perhaps. Besides, according to the contract, Char couldn't request more supplies until this batch was used up. This amount would probably last the boy more than a year.
With that thought, Fudge's face broke into a broad smile. "No problem! A deal is a deal. Haha, you're quite a character, Char. I'll tell you a secret—don't tell anyone—but as Minister, your house is my favorite. Delightful! Well, this batch of potions will be delivered to Hogwarts for you after the holidays."
Hearing Fudge's reply, Char beamed with genuine surprise. At that moment, he felt Fudge was radiating a golden, benevolent light. "Minister," he said sincerely, "you are great and generous. Within five years, you will surely become the most famous minister in magical history. Your great deeds will be remembered for generations!"
Char's effusive praise put Fudge in an exceptionally good mood. He waved his hand with high spirits. "Alright, alright. And now for a small personal gift. Come, I'll take you to the Ministry's oldest warehouse. It's a veritable treasure trove of antiquities! Legend says it holds items from the age of myths. Perhaps you'll find something used by the Greek gods, or even Odin's lost boots! Imagine, such rare treasures."
Fudge produced a Portkey. Professor Sprout took Char's hand, and they, along with Dumbledore, reached out and touched it.
The next moment, a dizzying lurch transported them to a deep, underground structure. The air was thick with the smell of decay.
"This," Fudge announced proudly, "is the oldest warehouse in the Ministry of Magic. Top secret. Ancient. Precious."
"And the most luxurious garbage dump in history," Professor Sprout interjected coldly. "The epitome of the Ministry's wastefulness."
Fudge smiled awkwardly. "Well, there are genuinely good things in here, but finding them might take some effort. In any case, it's a good experience for the boy to see it, broaden his horizons."
Dumbledore nodded slightly, which reassured Char. It seemed safe enough. He didn't have high hopes of finding anything truly valuable; he had already gotten what he needed most. Anything else was just a bonus. If nothing else, he could grab some antique to sell for a few Galleons.
The heavy door to the vault creaked open, releasing an even stronger smell of decay. Char took a breath and stepped inside. After just a few paces, he stopped, completely shocked. He had thought the mountain of scrapped broomsticks at Hogwarts was immense, that only the Room of Requirement could be more spectacular. He was wrong. The junk accumulated by the Ministry over millennia was on another scale entirely.
Before him lay a landscape of refuse worthy of a Titan's storeroom. Mountains of junk were piled everywhere. The Hogwarts broomstick pile wouldn't even qualify as a molehill here. Even the entire contents of the Room of Requirement would be a mere drop in this ocean of forgotten things. No wonder the Ministry never cleaned it up; it would take a century, a thankless task with no political gain.
Shaking his head, Char moved past the mountains of garbage. He saw alchemical items carved with impossibly complex patterns and materials that were now extinct, only seen in textbooks. But after centuries of neglect, everything had been eroded by time into a useless pile of antiques. Finding something of value here would be like looking for a needle in a haystack.
Fortunately, his platinum-level night vision allowed him to see the faint traces of magic escaping from items in the dark vault. Perhaps that could guide him. He focused on the residual magic particles in the air. He found a set of armor with a faint silver sheen, but it was so fragile that picking it up felt risky. He found several other items with lingering magic, but all were too decayed to be useful.
Giving up on a random search, he followed the dusty signs toward the section for Herbology. If he found something, great. If not, he wouldn't waste any more time.
After more than ten minutes, he reached the Herbology section. It was in a similar state: rotten seeds, decaying specimens, and jewel-inlaid shovels that were now useless. After a while, the most useful item he found was a small silver bucket. The faint magical aura it emitted seemed to stimulate vitality; it was likely once used for storing seeds, increasing their germination rate. Even at a tenth of its original power, it was still somewhat useful.
Char sighed. "Well, something is better than nothing. Maybe I can find a craftsman to repair it."
He prepared to leave with his find. As he reached for the small silver bucket, he found a black, gnarled root of some unknown plant entangled in its handle. Annoyed, he cast a Levitation Charm to move the root aside.
But when the charm hit the root, the feedback he received made his expression change dramatically. With his current power and a platinum-level charm, he could lift a massive boulder without issue. Yet this small piece of root didn't budge. It felt as if he were trying to levitate an entire mountain.
His eyes widened in horror as he stared at the inert root. "What in the world is this?!"
And at that moment, a system prompt slowly materialized before his eyes.
[System Alert: You have obtained a root of the World Tree.]
[Objective: Plant it successfully for an unknown reward.]
[Objective: Cultivate it to maturity for an unknown reward.]