Harry Potter: Don't Touch the Badger's Plants

With each cast of the Pruning Charm, another stray leaf or overgrown side branch on the Goldfish Vines would dissolve into shimmering motes of nutrient-rich light. On the system panel visible only to him, the silver glow flowing over the ability's name intensified, becoming richer and deeper with every successful spell.

Ciel felt a quiet surge of satisfaction. After the improvement in his magical perception, the efficiency of his spell advancement had increased significantly. While the Lumos Charm had taken considerable effort to reach the Bronze Tier, the Pruning Charm's journey to Silver felt remarkably smooth.

At this rate, he calculated, it will be completely promoted by midnight, or tomorrow morning at the latest.

A look of keen anticipation appeared in his eyes. He wondered what kind of qualitative change the Pruning Charm would undergo after its advancement. Judging by the surprising boons from the Loosening Charm and Lumos, he had a feeling the Silver-Tier Pruning Charm would not disappoint him.

With renewed focus, Ciel returned to his work, his wand moving in a steady, practiced rhythm.

Unconsciously, the sky outside the greenhouse darkened, and the hour mentioned in the duel challenge drew near.

In the Slytherin common room, the late hour had done nothing to dampen the mood. The first-year students, far from being asleep, were gathered in a tight, expectant circle around Draco Malfoy.

In front of Malfoy hovered a Sneakoscope, a rather disreputable alchemical device often used for spying. At that moment, its polished surface was switching between three distinct views: the portrait of the Fat Lady guarding Gryffindor Tower, the unassuming barrel that served as the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room, and the grand hourglasses that tracked the House Cup points.

The young Slytherins held their breath, their eyes glued to the shifting images.

"Malfoy," one whispered, breaking the tense silence, "do you think they'll really fall for it? It's almost time and there's still no movement."

Though Malfoy maintained a calm, arrogant expression, his hands were clenched into tight fists in his lap, betraying the nervous tension he refused to show.

"Quiet!" he hissed. "You'll disturb them!"

As the others looked on in confusion, wondering if the Sneakoscope somehow transmitted sound, there was a sudden flicker of movement on the Gryffindor screen. The Fat Lady's portrait swung open, and Harry and Ron slipped out, cloaked in shadows.

Ron was muttering last-minute advice. "If he tries to cast a spell on you, you'd better dodge. I don't think I remember how to block them."

Harry just nodded mechanically, his mind clearly elsewhere.

Just then, a new figure appeared—Hermione, clad in a pink nightgown, her expression a mixture of sleepiness and righteous fury.

"I can't believe you're actually doing this, Harry, Ron!" she scolded. "I told you it was a trap set by Malfoy! There won't be a real duel! You're just going to lose points for Gryffindor!"

Harry looked at her, baffled that anyone could be so meddlesome.

Ron, however, just pouted. "Hermione, how can you be so sure it's a trap?"

"Because I saw Ciel receive the exact same challenge!" she retorted. "And he said it was obviously a trick, that Malfoy wouldn't have the nerve for a real duel!"

Ron raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "So this is all just Ciel's theory. Maybe Ciel is just afraid to duel, and that's why he said that."

Hermione looked as if she was about to explode. "Ron Weasley!"

Harry quickly tried to smooth things over. "Alright, Hermione, calm down. We'll just go and see. If Malfoy shows up, we'll teach him a lesson. If he doesn't, we're not stupid, we'll leave immediately."

Hermione sighed, a wave of helpless frustration washing over her. But her night was about to get even worse. When she turned to go back inside, she discovered the Fat Lady's portrait was empty. The portrait had gone out for a late-night visit, leaving Hermione locked out of her own common room. Gritting her teeth, she had no choice but to follow Harry and Ron, just as she had in the original timeline.

The Slytherins saw it all. Though the Sneakoscope was silent, the image was clear: three Gryffindors had stepped right into their trap.

"This is perfect," Malfoy crowed, his face alight with smug satisfaction. "Gryffindor won't be catching up to our score now."

His gaze shifted to the inert Hufflepuff entrance, and he gritted his teeth in renewed frustration. "But why hasn't Sprout left yet? Did he not get the challenge? Or is the coward actually afraid? Just wait, I'll spread this story all over the castle tomorrow and make a complete fool of him."

Though Ciel's failure to fall for the trap was a minor disappointment, the prospect of humiliating their sworn enemies was more than enough cause for celebration.

"Those three will lose fifty points for Gryffindor, at least," one student snickered. "Just imagine the looks on the Gryffindors' faces tomorrow when they see the hourglass."

"Potter will be blamed for everything!"

The Slytherins stared at the image of the House Cup hourglasses, their eyes wide with anticipation, afraid to miss the moment of triumph. But time passed, minute by agonizing minute. The night grew deeper, and their eyelids began to droop. The hourglasses remained stubbornly unchanged.

Then, just as they were about to give up, Malfoy's eyes shot open.

"It moved!" he gasped. "There's movement!"

The others were instantly awake, their gazes snapping to the screen. But their excitement curdled into disbelief. It was the Slytherin hourglass that was changing.

Slytherin had just lost ten points.

The students looked at each other in stunned silence. "What's going on?!"

A moment later, the door to their common room was thrown open with a resounding bang. A gloomy figure shrouded in an aura of pure fury strode in.

It was Severus Snape.

Seeing the huddle of students gathered around the glowing Sneakoscope, Snape's face contorted into a mask of rage that made him look like a volcano on the verge of eruption.

"You idiots," he hissed, his voice dangerously low. "I told you to practice the Lumos Charm. But you had to get clever, didn't you? Sending duel challenges, tipping off the caretaker, hoping he would do your dirty work so you wouldn't have to practice?" He sneered. "Fools. A collection of fools."

Malfoy, who had masterminded the entire plot, couldn't help but ask, his voice trembling, "Professor… what happened?"

"What happened?" Snape's laugh was a cold, sharp sound. "Filch caught no one. He then insisted it was all a prank played on him by Slytherin House. Professor McGonagall happened to be patrolling nearby, and the result is that Slytherin has lost ten points, and I was forced to endure Filch's whining for half an hour. That is what you have accomplished!"

The young Slytherins lowered their heads in shame. Malfoy, however, still mumbled, trying to defend himself. "Professor, it was just bad luck. If it had succeeded, Slytherin would be in the lead. We were just following the Slytherin tradition… winning by any means necessary."

Hearing this, Snape's anger was so profound it circled back into a chilling calm.

"By any means necessary?" he repeated, his voice dripping with contempt. "While I am painstakingly brewing potions for your test, you scheme for ways to be lazy with even the simplest of spell practice. And you believe that is the tradition of this house?"

He took a step closer, his dark eyes boring into them. "Listen to me, and remember this. What Slytherin means by 'by any means necessary' is this: strengthen yourself by any means necessary, weaken your enemies by any means necessary, and achieve victory by any means necessary. The first point is the foundation. It is the most important."

His voice dropped to a venomous whisper. "You cannot even endure the boredom of practice, and you dare speak to me of our traditions? That is not ambition. It is merely shirking. If this continues, you will be left in the dust by the Hufflepuff badgers, and you will bring nothing but disgrace to this house."

Snape took a deep breath, composing himself. "Since you all enjoy staying up so late, none of you will sleep tonight. You will practice the Lumos Charm until sunrise. No one is permitted to stop."

The students' faces went pale, their hearts filled with dread. An all-nighter? Who could possibly stand it?

And at that very moment, in the Hufflepuff common room, Ciel, who had been up all night by choice, felt a surge of invigorating energy.

On his system panel, the last trace of bronze luster on the words "Pruning Charm" finally faded away, consumed by an unprecedented, brilliant silver glow.

(End of Chapter)

***

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