Although the Defense Against the Dark Arts class sounded incredibly interesting, the next session was still some time away. Allen couldn't—and wouldn't—pour all his energy into it. After all, if he weren't modest, he could easily stand in front of the classroom and declare, I'm not targeting anyone, but to those present…
Of course, that would be arrogant—but Allen was confident in his abilities.
For now, the most important matters weren't next week's class but preparing for the weekend's visits and dealing with his detention.
Yes, he still had a detention hanging over him. He had to find a way to erase it; otherwise, his weekend plans during the exchange program would be completely ruined.
Allen had some experience handling such situations. Some professors had even walked past without reacting when they saw him in scuffles with the Slytherins—simply accustomed to it.
Though several professors warned that if Allen bullied the Slytherins again, he'd face a severe detention, Allen would always apologize sincerely, only to continue his one-against-many games with the Slytherin students. He had to earn his first victories.
Considering Allen's usually good conduct, and since the Slytherins, although they would reinforce their numbers, ambush, and pursue, never reported losses, the professors eventually let things slide. That said, Allen nearly matched the twins' detention record at one point.
This time, the detention had been assigned to Professor Sprout—a favorable outcome. As Head of House, she was more likely to listen, especially since Allen's offense wasn't severe.
Thus, Allen appeared at Professor Sprout's tent and gently knocked.
"Come in." The slightly coarse voice called from inside.
When Allen opened the tent, he nearly jumped—inside were several types of magical herbs he had never seen before. One even glowed like a miniature sun, supplementing the tent's lack of light.
This was no simple feat. If such plants existed naturally, Allen would have encountered them in his extensive research.
Noticing Allen staring in awe, Professor Sprout smiled warmly and removed her protective gloves. "Ah, you immediately noticed the biggest difference. These are my own creations—magical herbs that cannot reproduce naturally. They can only grow through constant magical guidance. If I hadn't obtained these rare seeds, I never would have attempted cultivating them."
"Guidance?" Allen blinked, unfamiliar with the term.
"Yes—Magical Induction. It's a technique exclusive to Herbology. Your age is far too young to study it. Even graduates rarely encounter it; only the top seventh-year students are allowed under the Ministry's permission."
The professor paused, letting Allen absorb this. "The magical world is wondrous. We still don't know the total number of magical creatures or herbs. Some ordinary Muggle herbs can even produce special effects when combined with magical ones. But that's not enough—some herbs we urgently need do not exist or have yet to be discovered. We must cultivate them ourselves."
"By using magic to induce growth and selecting appropriate environments, we reach the final stages of Herbology. Understanding medicinal properties and cultivation methods continues throughout the study."
"Through these methods, we can transform natural herbs to meet our needs. This is the work of advanced Herbology specialists. Similarly, professors specializing in magical creature protection also attempt such feats, though complete success is rare."
Allen swallowed hard—he suddenly thought of someone.
Hagrid. He had a somewhat failed creation: the Blast-Ended Skrewt.
Undoubtedly, it was an experimental modification—and nearly successful. Hagrid was truly the hidden No. 2 boss.
Unfortunately, now was not the time to ask. The professor's expression was serious.
"Now that you're experimenting with modifying magic, I must give you proper guidance. These feats are not easy, even for adult wizards. You're only in fourth year—too young to attempt this. Every spell, every magical modification comes at the cost of sweat and blood. Without protection, research is far too dangerous."
Initially, she intended to punish him with weeks of labor, as McGonagall suggested, to keep him from meddling with things beyond his years. But she changed her mind.
The professor stepped closer. "Child, when the Beauxbatons professor attacked you last time, could you still use the spell again?"
Though puzzled, Allen snapped his fingers. A vine rose from a flowerpot on the table.
Professor Sprout's expression softened, even smiling. "Exactly—I suspected it. Had Professor McGonagall not mentioned it, I might never have realized. You are indeed beginning to experiment with herb modification—though for combat rather than its intended use, you have style."
She waved her wand to unlock the table. A thick stack of parchment appeared in her hands.
"Here, take this. These are seventh-year materials with my notes. While your research direction differs slightly, it will be helpful. This is for your eyes only—far too advanced for anyone else your age."
Not just a few notes—the first page alone contained four or five approvals, practically a professor's personal research insights.
Among wizards, such notes are invaluable, almost a form of legacy. If not for Allen being a Hufflepuff top student, with magic aligning with Herbology, and Professor Sprout being kind, he would never have had access.
Moved, Allen felt his chest tighten. Professor Sprout continued: "Study carefully. Summarize each chapter—at least one summary per week, five sheets of parchment minimum, and return them to me."
…A tall order, indeed.
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