Watching the sudden changes on the system panel, Robert's mood visibly improved.
Resolving the Rita Skeeter incident, obtaining system rewards, and now this—was this a triple blessing?
His gaze fell on the newly advanced Platinum-level Levitation Charm. Robert's eyes lit up with anticipation.
From previous experience, upgrading a spell from Gold to Platinum was not merely an enhancement—it signified a leap from macroscopic control to microscopic precision. The qualitative difference often outweighed the sum of all previous improvements.
It just so happened that he had already begun cultivating the next generation of margaret plants. The timing of the spell's promotion couldn't have been better.
Without hesitation, Robert quickened his pace and returned to the Greenhouse.
As soon as he stepped in, a wave of heat enveloped him. The previous batch of margaret had already been harvested and processed. The once vibrant field of flowers was gone, revealing patches of dark brown soil.
But in Robert's eyes, this "blank canvas" held infinite possibilities. Beneath the surface, vigorous vitality was already brewing, ready to burst forth.
This batch of seeds had all been selected from plants with exceptional traits. As a result, their magical aura was more active than that of the previous generation.
Robert couldn't help but smile.
This meant that when harvested, the rewards from this new batch would exceed those from the last. If things continued at this pace, by the fifth generation of selection, the difference from the original margaret strain would be astonishing.
However, this level of selective cultivation took time.
Robert hoped to accelerate the process. And for that, he'd have to rely on the Levitation Charm—now at Platinum level.
He approached an empty corner of the greenhouse, took out a fresh batch of margaret seeds, and planted them into the soil.
With a gentle flick of his wand, he cast:
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
The spell activated the moment the words left his mouth.
Robert immediately sensed the difference.
Previously, the Levitation Charm could only affect a single object at a time. But now, it seemed divisible—capable of breaking into many independent "threads," each acting autonomously.
In short, Robert could now either lift one large object completely or affect numerous small objects simultaneously.
How small? That would depend on his proficiency and Magical Perception.
A thoughtful gleam appeared in Robert's eyes.
"If the Levitation Charm could affect individual molecules—offsetting intermolecular forces—what kind of phenomenon would that produce?"
"What if it went deeper—to the atomic or even electronic level?"
"Would the Levitation Charm still be considered basic magic at that point?"
These wild thoughts flickered briefly, but Robert quickly buried them. That level of magic was far beyond his current capabilities.
He shifted focus back to the seeds in front of him.
With a subtle motion, the magic from the Levitation Charm scattered, transforming into fine magical "sparks" that rained gently onto the soil and the seeds.
Immediately, the affected soil and seeds behaved as if inside a zero-gravity environment. Gravity's pull had been offset significantly.
Robert's eyes remained on the reward light spheres floating above the seeds.
He noticed something odd.
Under the influence of the spell, the spheres flickered—brightening and dimming rapidly.
When they shone brightly, they far surpassed the quality of any margaret he had grown before. But when dim, they almost disappeared entirely.
A rollercoaster of magical output.
Robert was not alarmed. He knew that plants often needed time to adjust to environmental changes.
Even Muggle-grown flowers, when moved from a controlled greenhouse to a home, often struggled to adapt. Some delicate ones even died from the transition.
And that was just light.
Here, Robert had fundamentally changed gravity. It made sense that magical plants would take time to adjust.
He left the seeds alone to adapt naturally.
As he turned to leave, he suddenly paused.
Water vapor was drifting out of the soil where the spell had been cast.
After a moment of analysis, Robert understood:
Normally, moisture remains trapped deep within soil due to gravity. But now, because the soil was looser, with widened gaps and reduced gravity, moisture was escaping far more easily.
No problem.
If water was evaporating faster, just add more.
Robert grabbed a watering can and began to sprinkle water.
That's when a fascinating scene unfolded.
The stream of water didn't fall directly as a column. Instead, it atomized—turning into a fine mist under the Levitation Charm's influence. The mist spread evenly across the soil, maintaining moisture levels efficiently.
The sight was ethereal.
Yet Robert focused not on the beauty but on the mist's diffusion rate.
"The atomized droplets increase contact area with the soil... Diffusion is faster… absorption improves… Water usage becomes more efficient—"
"Wait…"
"What about Potion?"
His eyes lit up.
Without delay, Robert retrieved a section of Devil's Snare root and a fresh bottle of Potion from Professor Sprout.
He also cast Sectumsempra to create a clean incision at a magical node on the root. His precision made the task effortless.
Instead of using ten drops at once, he applied just one drop at a time—each atomized through the Platinum-level Levitation Charm.
The results were immediate and obvious.
The misted Potion absorbed into the root faster. Magic loss during the process was significantly reduced.
After several trials, Robert made a clear calculation.
"This method reduces Potion usage by at least 20%, while achieving equal or better effects."
Excitement surged through him.
Growing Devil's Snare was incredibly Potion-intensive—a serious bottleneck.
But if this atomized administration method worked, he could massively reduce costs.
He looked at the bottle of Potion in his hand.
"Even so… this Devil's Snare root alone might consume the entire bottle."
"And I plan to mass-produce this plant in the future…"
Potion shortage would remain a big issue.
Robert thought of Professor Sprout.
If the Potion were common, she'd have given him an entire pond of it. The fact she only offered one bottle at a time spoke volumes about its rarity.
He sighed.
"The only hope is the compensation the Ministry of Magic promised after the hearing."
"But with Dumbledore helping me claim it…"
"Maybe it'll come quickly."
Just then, loud bangs echoed outside the Sprout residence.
Robert tensed.
More Ministry retaliation?
Another attack from Umbridge?
Wand in hand, he strode outside.
Professor Sprout reacted even faster.
"Anyone dares trespass again—" she hissed. "I'll turn them into flower fertilizer!"
Then a familiar voice called out:
"Don't worry, Pomona. And Mr. Robert Sprout."
Professor Sprout blinked in surprise.
"Dumbledore?"
Moments later, Dumbledore appeared alongside Minister Fudge and several Ministry officials.
Fudge offered a stiff smile. "We're here to negotiate compensation."
Under Dumbledore's explanation, Robert quickly understood the situation.
Fudge had come to settle the Sprout Family's grievances—under immense public pressure.
To make peace, Fudge announced generous support:
Major funding for Hogwarts, especially for Greenhouse expansion
Personal compensation for Professor Sprout and her family
Full sponsorship of Robert's Herbology research, via official Ministry budget
One free item from the Ministry's ancient warehouse
Professor Sprout was unimpressed.
"What use is that old junkyard you call a warehouse?"
Fudge's smile faltered.
But Robert stepped forward, face lit with excitement.
"Minister, does that mean I can apply for whatever Potions I need?"
Fudge relaxed immediately.
"A few Potions? Of course! Just don't resell them, and use them responsibly."
Robert appeared touched. "Wonderful. Can we sign the contract now?"
The contract was simple:
No reselling
Use one batch before requesting another
Violations would void the agreement
After both signed, Robert didn't hesitate.
"I'll take 100 bottles of this Potion to start."
Fudge blinked.
"Excuse me, how many?!"
His aides whispered urgently. The Potion wasn't cheap.
But Fudge regained his smile.
"It's fine," he assured himself. "The kid is just hoarding."
Besides, per contract, Robert couldn't apply again until he used it all.
This would likely last him a year.
He agreed.
"Alright, 100 bottles after Christmas."
Then, Fudge cheerfully added:
"I'll even take you to the Ministry's oldest warehouse myself."
Dumbledore and Professor Sprout joined them. The Portkey activated, and they soon arrived at a musty underground vault.
Fudge beamed.
"Top secret. Ancient treasures—maybe even from the age of gods!"
Professor Sprout scoffed.
"More like the Ministry's waste dump."
Inside, Robert was overwhelmed.
The sheer volume of magical junk dwarfed even the Room of Requirement. He saw ruined magical items, ancient brooms, broken tools—all covered in dust and rot.
He headed straight to the Herbology section.
Nothing was intact—until he found a small silver bucket with residual magic. Its effect was weak but still useful.
As he picked it up, a black root tangled around its handle caught his eye.
He casually cast a Levitation Charm to remove it.
What happened next left him speechless.
Despite his upgraded spell, the root remained immovable—like trying to levitate a mountain.
Alarmed, Robert stared at it.
Then the system interface popped up:
"You have obtained a World Tree Root."
"Planting it may yield an unknown reward???"
"Cultivating it to maturity may yield an unknown reward???"
Robert's heart pounded.
For more chapters
patreon.com/Ben479