With a heavy, chanical rumble, the ground in the outer ring of the greenhouse began to vibrate violently.
The central drill of the tilling machine, powered by the rhythmic winding and releasing of enchanted ropes, started pounding up and down like a Jackhamr.
To Professor Sprout, this wasn't just a machine; it was pure magic.
Though the drill bit looked like it could only churn a single square ter at a ti, the vibrations rippled outward through the soil.
Starting from the furthest edge of the plot, the earth began to turn itself over. First one section, then the next, and within ten seconds, the entire hardened plot had been perfectly tilled.
Once the dust settled, Kane used a Summoning Charm to lift the machine back into the air. "Erm... Professor, do you have a place for this?"
Professor Sprout snapped out of her daze. "Oh, absolutely! It's useful, very useful! Wait here, follow —I'll clear a dedicated space for this fine fellow to rest."
She led Kane to a well-ventilated, shaded corner, cleared away so gardening clutter, and helped him set the machine down securely.
"Yes, a fine fellow indeed," she murmured, patting the wooden casing of the machine with genuine affection. After admiring the "contraption" for a while, she led Kane back to the freshly turned soil.
The rest was simple: placing seeds into pre-dug holes and finishing the session with a Weather Charm to trigger a localized downpour.
"Weather Charms vary in difficulty," Sprout explained as she walked him through the theory. "Rain and Sunlight are the two simplest.
However, bear in mind that the 'Sunlight' produced by this charm is for photosynthesis, not for hunting vampires. If you ever encounter a vampire, run. Do not try to fight them with a localized sunbeam."
"We ordinary folk must avoid such dark creatures. Truly, when I was younger, I was chased through the Amazon rainforest by a vampire for an entire week.
If Albus hadn't arrived when he did, I wouldn't be here today."
Kane nodded solemnly. Seeing the lingering fear on Sprout's face, he made a private vow: If I ever et a vampire, I'm not letting them get away.
"I'll teach you Rain and Sunlight first. Watch , then you try."
Sprout demonstrated with standard, crisp incantations and broad, sweeping wand movents.
Interestingly, the physical casting of a Weather Charm is identical regardless of the outco; the result depends entirely on the specific weather pattern the wizard visualizes in their mind.
"Alright, Kane, your turn." She led him to a dry patch of earth.
Kane perfectly mimicked her movents and pronunciation. A small, dark raincloud materialized above the soil, pouring down for over a minute.
Once the cloud dissipated, a tiny, glowing sun hung suspended within the greenhouse.
"Excellent work, Kane! Ten points to Gryffindor. You're free to go now; find a quiet spot to practice the visualization.
We're done in the greenhouse for today anyway." Sprout ruffled his hair and left, likely heading to her office for tea and a look at the newspaper.
Kane wandered through the castle with a leisurely gait. Technically, he was supposed to be in History of Magic right now.
He had asked Harry to check him in, and while Hermione had looked disapproving, he figured she was too busy secretly reading her Gilderoy Lockhart novels behind the cover of her textbook to actually scold him.
The only person he really needed to dodge was Professor McGonagall. After all, besides your own Head of House, which professor actually cares enough to morize a student's entire titable?
He was feeling quite smug until a ghostly, stern voice echoed from behind him.
"Mr. Heath seems remarkably relaxed."
Kane stiffened instantly, turning with an awkward grin. "Whoa... Professor! You might not believe this, but I was just looking for the bathroom and got a bit turned around."
"Save the explanations, Kane. To my office. Now." McGonagall walked past him, her pace brisk and unyielding.
"Yes, Professor," Kane sighed, following her.
Minutes later, Kane was sitting in a chair across from McGonagall's desk, staring at a stack of first-year parchnt assignnts.
"Since you have so much free ti, you can help grade these," McGonagall said dryly. "Consider this your detention for the day."
Kane picked up a quill. "So, Professor... you aren't actually mad at ?"
"If there were a third person in the room, I would be criticizing you severely. But since it is just the two of us... History of Magic is, frankly, a waste of ti for a student of your caliber," she admitted candidly.
"Oh, thank rlin! In that case, are there any other 'useless' classes I should know about?" Kane asked, already starting to grade.
"Divination," McGonagall said without hesitation. "I have no patience for that kind of theatrical guesswork.
Muggle Studies is also problematic; the textbook is decades behind, and actual Muggles are nothing like what is described there.
And then, of course, there is Defense Against the Dark Arts—specifically, the version taught by Gilderoy Lockhart."
McGonagall seed unusually talkative today, her usual rigid deanor softened. Kane wondered if it was because the quality of this year's Gryffindor intake was particularly high.
He put his head down and got to work.
Ginny Weasley? Basically family. Full marks! Luna Lovegood? One of the few people who understands my fashion sense.
Full marks! Colin Creevey? One of the kids I tricked into rowing the boat... I want to give him full marks, but this writing is atrocious. Barely a pass.
McGonagall watched him out of the corner of her eye. She noticed him being generous with Luna—given that the girl had "inherited" Kane's cow-horn hat, she figured they were close friends. And as for Ginny... well, Ginny's work was actually perfect.
Once finished, Kane stretched his arms and headed to the Great Hall for dinner. As he sat down with Harry and the others, an origami crane landed on the table before him.
It was a note from Professor Sprout. She wanted him to co to the greenhouse imdiately. Apparently, the soil tilled by his machine had sprouted a magical plant she had never seen before. She wanted to study it, transplant it, and harvest the seeds together.
"Who's that from?" Harry asked.
"Professor Sprout. She found sothing new in the greenhouse."
"Wait," Harry said, blinking. "You skipped History of Magic to get private tutoring from Sprout?"
Hermione snapped her head up. Again! Kane had cleverly abandoned a useless class for expert instruction while she had wasted an hour following "rules" in a class designed to kill ti. She made a vow then and there: Next week... I'm skipping too.
"Can we co?" Ron asked, hoping for so free greenhouse snacks.
"Probably not. She gave the key; bringing a crowd would be a betrayal of trust."
Kane finished his food and caught up with Professor Sprout as she left the staff table. When they entered the greenhouse, they found Dumbledore already there, sitting by the tilled plot with a steaming mug in his hand.
Kane didn't care much about Dumbledore being there. His eyes were locked on the "unknown" plant Sprout had ntioned.
He recognized it instantly.
It was a weed from the Constant Realm known as Forget--Lots. Combined with honey and water, it could be brewed into a Soothing Tea to restore Sanity.
He had no idea why sothing from that realm was appearing here, but it was a good thing... mostly. Then a thought struck him.
The tilled land in the Constant Realm always attracted certain pests that liked to plant weeds in your garden.
Kane looked up at the glass do of the greenhouse. Sure enough, a massive, bloated Lord of the Fruit Flies from the Constant Realm was clinging silently to the ceiling.
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