"Hm… Any ideas?"
"I feel," Neville looked at the potted tree, "that once it's near related species, it will flourish. And as soon as bees or other insects transfer the pollen, it will reach its final form."
"Reasonable. I was thinking of forcing the transition with special spells and magic."
"Don't," Neville shook his head desperately. "The tree, like many magical plants, has a primitive analogue of a mind. It would be deeply offended. I assume in the end it's supposed to become some kind of… instrument, or something like that?"
"Yes."
"It will be a bad instrument if you do it that way."
"I see. Your suggestions?"
Neville thought, starting to consume one cookie after another, washing them down with milk.
"I know what to do," the boy nodded. "In the greenhouses there are several kinds of dwarf deciduous trees. There's a good microclimate…"
As soon as the conversation turned to plants, Neville lost all his uncertainty.
"…and they're green and active even now, in January. I know Hagrid has a swarm of special bees he uses for various needs…"
"Could we do it artificially? With a cotton swab?"
Neville shook his head again.
"A fully proper natural process is better. I don't think the tree would appreciate artificiality."
That statement made me smile, and Neville looked at me in confusion.
"Don't mind me," I waved it off. "I think you're right. I wouldn't be happy if my reproduction process went that unnaturally either."
One second to realize, and another—that's all it took for Neville to flush red to the top of his head. All that was missing was cartoon steam for the picture to be complete.
"How long will it all take?"
"Probably not long," the boy shrugged.
"Then what are we waiting for?" I stood up from the armchair, grabbed the pot with the tree, and headed for the exit. "To the greenhouses!"
Neville jumped up from the sofa and hurried after me.
"And then?"
"We'll see the result, and then to Hagrid," I nodded importantly.
We left the common room, finding ourselves back in the castle corridors.
"And then?"
"We'll borrow his bees, maybe even take Hagrid himself, and to the greenhouses. Then we'll see…"
For the rest of the evening, students of all Houses could observe an amusing sight: Neville and I running back and forth through the castle, carrying a pot with a tree. Through the castle and beyond it, over snow that had begun to compact and melt. Yes, melting snow in January—the realities of harsh Scotland. Winter here is nothing special, but damp. Why were we running everywhere with the pot? Well, we both acted short-sightedly and, before finding out who was where and determining a detailed plan, rushed ahead headlong. The exit to the courtyard with the greenhouses was closed, and we didn't risk breaking the protective locks with spells like Alohomora. Then we went to Hagrid, but he had gone out, leaving a note on the door that he would be back in half an hour. In the end we went, still lugging the pot, to Professor Sprout. There, I didn't appear with the pot—Neville went instead, expressing a desire to work in the greenhouses. Thus he received a key valid only for today, to open the door to the inner courtyard with the greenhouses.
Although Hagrid should have returned by then, we first of all, under the surprised gaze of those who witnessed our procession, went to the greenhouses. Neville had access to all but two of them—the two with dangerous plants, whose protections even the twins hadn't bypassed, according to rumor.
"How do you have access?" I couldn't help asking as we placed the pot with the tree among a dozen deciduous trees, lushly green but small, about two meters tall at most.
"I've been helping Professor Sprout and the Herbology club since second year, even though I'm not officially in it."
After placing the tree, we stepped back a couple of meters.
"What now?"
Neville took out his wand and, not very confidently but decisively, waved it.
"Coniunctura…"
Visually nothing happened, but I felt a current of energy spreading between the plants. The crowns of the trees swayed as if in the wind, and the next moment they very quickly bloomed, covered in tiny multicolored flowers.
"Unexpected," Neville said in surprise, but looked at the result of his work with undisguised pleasure.
"What exactly?"
"This spell helps new plants quickly integrate into the local biome…" Neville suddenly looked at me, embarrassed. "Sorry, I'm probably explaining it badly."
"Don't worry," I smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "I've read enough to grasp the gist."
"That's good…"
"But what now?"
"Now… I thought we'd have to wait for buds to appear, for them to bloom. And here it's so fast. That's strange. But… good, probably?"
"Definitely."
"Then we can go to Hagrid now."
Leaving the greenhouses and locking everything, we headed back to Hagrid's hut. Knocking on the door, we waited, but not for long—a low, booming bark was heard, followed by Hagrid's voice.
"Fang, off with you, you cowardly mutt…" Hagrid's voice was muted by the closed door.
We heard the sound of heavy steps, the rustle of a lock, and the door opened, revealing the towering bearded man.
"Oh, kids, what is it now? It'll be dark soon. Not good to be wandering…"
"Hi, Hagrid," I nodded, remembering his request to dispense with "sir" and such. "Just for a moment, on business. Neville, what exactly do we need?"
"H-hello… Pro— Hagrid," Neville stammered. "We need your special bees. Just for an hour. They need to pollinate a couple of plants."
"Oh, sure, that's easy," the giant nodded, smoothing his curly beard, and disappeared into the depths of his hut.
Less than a minute later Hagrid came out holding a typical beehive, like a lantern on a chain.
"Only, kids, I'm coming with you. To keep an eye on things," we stepped aside to let him pass. "Those bees are crafty little devils."
We all set off toward the castle at a brisk pace, and Hagrid continued talking.
"Tiny little things, but when they sting—oof. I remember when I first got them for Hogwarts needs, one stung me, the rascal. Merlin's beard, I thought I'd gnaw my finger off just to stop the pain. And no magic helps."
"And the bee itself?" I asked.
"What about it?" Hagrid glanced at us. "They're not ordinary. Their stingers are firmly attached. Oh, and there was this one funny incident, ages ago…"
Hagrid launched into memories of interesting, amusing creatures, pranks, and curious cases. Considering that in Hagrid's classification an "amusing creature" is danger class four, and an "interesting" one is class five, it's scary to think what kind of beast must be both amusing and interesting at the same time. But Hagrid carefully avoided naming the creature, which was even more unsettling than if he'd simply led you to a dragon.
In any case, we reached the greenhouses, went into the right one, and Hagrid quickly realized that our target was the dwarf two-meter deciduous trees, among which, in a pot, grew my tree.
"Right then…" Hagrid approached one of the trees, knelt to be at least a little shorter than it, and deftly hung the hive on a branch. "Like that… Stay behind me…"
We stepped back a couple of paces, and Hagrid took a pink umbrella from under his coat.
"Kids, you just don't tell anyone that I cast spells with a wand. I'm not allowed."
"No problem, Hagrid."