Perhaps it was Mr. Lupin's strong constitution, or maybe Vinson's antidote was exceptionally effective, but Lupin quickly regained his vital signs. By the time he awoke, it was already the following morning.
Lying on a bed woven entirely from thick, verdant vines inside Vinson's potted plant shop, Lupin slowly opened his eyes. The sunlight streaming through the window made him squint painfully, and his body ached with stiffness and numbness. At least his mind was clear, and he quickly pieced together the events that had led him here.
He had fallen into a coma after exposure to the highly toxic Demiguise. It seemed fortunate that he had not "met Merlin" prematurely—that is, that he hadn't died from the poison. The thought of almost becoming the first wizard in history felled by Demiguise made him cover his face in a mixture of embarrassment and disbelief.
After forcing himself out of bed, he glanced at the clock on the wall. Its hand pointed to nine. "Has a whole day passed?" he murmured, surveying the quiet shop. No one was in sight.
He looked toward the counter behind which he remembered the door to the Plantation existed. It was tightly shut; Lupin assumed Vinson was still inside. Just as he pondered this, the door opened suddenly, and a small, thin figure dashed out. The figure froze when it saw him and immediately retreated back inside.
"Wait!" Lupin called out, but before he could fully see the figure's face, the person disappeared back into the room. Moments later, Vinson himself emerged.
"Mr. Lupin! You're awake!" Vinson's relief was palpable. "I thought you'd never regain consciousness."
"Thank you for your help, Vinson," Lupin replied evenly, though there was a hint of humility in his tone. "I was far too reckless."
Vinson waved off the remark. "Don't blame yourself, Lupin. These things happen. But you must be more careful around my plants in the future."
Lupin nodded solemnly. "I've learned my lesson."
Vinson walked to the front counter, pulled out a thick notebook from a drawer, and handed it to Lupin.
"What's this?" Lupin asked, frowning.
"Some information on the plants I grow. I stayed up all night compiling it so that nothing like this happens again," Vinson explained.
Lupin accepted the notebook with a conflicted expression. Truthfully, he was already reconsidering this job. The risks far outweighed what he had anticipated.
"I think I need to reconsider this position," he said slowly.
Vinson's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Then… what about triple the salary? That's the highest I can offer. Think it over, Mr. Lupin."
But the lure of money was ineffective against the shadow of near-death he had experienced. Galleons could never compare to the value of life itself. Lupin shivered involuntarily at the memory of the poison coursing through him.
Just as he was about to decline, the door behind them opened again. Harry darted out, holding a small bottle containing a swirling transparent liquid. His face shone with excitement.
"Teacher, I think this one will work!" he exclaimed, handing the bottle to Vinson.
Vinson inspected the liquid carefully, uncorked it, and poured a small amount onto his hand. "Not bad," he said with a nod. "The essence is pure. You've mastered the key technique, Harry."
Harry's smile widened, nearly splitting his face in delight.
Lupin, standing to the side, couldn't take his eyes off the boy. "Wait… what did you call him?"
"Oh, I almost forgot to introduce him," Vinson said, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. "This is Harry Potter. You've surely heard of him."
Harry turned to Lupin politely. "Hello, Mr. Lupin. While you were unconscious, Teacher told me your name."
Lupin's expression turned from curiosity to astonishment. He studied Harry carefully—messy black hair, green eyes—everything matched the boy in his memories.
"You… you are Harry Potter?" he asked, half in disbelief.
"Yes," Harry nodded.
Vinson noticed Lupin's reaction but remained unperturbed. It was to be expected. Lupin had been a close friend of Harry's father; anyone would have a strong emotional reaction upon meeting the child of a dear friend.
"Mr. Lupin, this is the real Harry Potter. He lives nearby, and I've been teaching him some basic potion-making. Harry has a keen interest in Potions," Vinson added.
Harry twitched at Vinson's words. Was he obsessed with potions? Perhaps. But the lessons so far had been strictly complicated, advanced techniques—real spellwork was another story.
Lupin exhaled, calming himself. He had not anticipated meeting Harry here, not under these circumstances.
Vinson smiled at Lupin. "Have you decided, Mr. Lupin? Will you work here?"
Lupin glanced at Harry, who was examining the Essence of Murtlap with wide-eyed fascination. A surge of complex emotion swept through him. He realized he couldn't walk away—not while Harry's safety and curiosity were involved.
"Of course," Lupin finally said. "I will take this job."
"Excellent!" Vinson said, a rare smile lighting his features.
Harry, still grinning from his success with the potion, added, "Congratulations, Mr. Lupin."
For the first time that morning, Lupin felt a sense of purpose. Money could never outweigh the responsibility he felt for Harry. And despite the dangers of Vinson's unique plants, he resolved that he would stay—and protect the boy entrusted to him.
With the morning sunlight pouring in through the window and the promise of a challenging but meaningful task ahead, Lupin prepared himself mentally. The world of magical plants was perilous, but he was no longer alone. With Harry's enthusiasm and Vinson's guidance, he felt ready to face whatever trials lay ahead.
The bond forged that morning—between teacher and student, mentor and apprentice, protector and ward—would shape the coming days in ways none of them could yet imagine.