Harry Potter: The Beast Wizard

The morning sun bathed the Hogwarts greenhouses in soft golden light, the glass-paneled structures glinting like emerald jewels under the rising sky. Rows upon rows of magical flora flourished inside—some glowing, some humming, others pulsing faintly like living hearts wrapped in vines.

It was the first official Herbology class for the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff first-years, and the students gathered outside Greenhouse One, murmuring with both curiosity and unease. The air was fresh but tinged with the sharp scent of dirt, damp moss, and something faintly spicy—almost like dragon pepper, though no one could quite place it.

Professor Sprout emerged from the greenhouse doors, her patched robes stained with soil, her hair tucked beneath a wide-brimmed hat that looked like it had sprouted leaves overnight.

"Good morning!" she chirped, her voice as warm as a cup of tea. "Welcome to your first lesson in the noble art of Herbology!"

The students straightened, Hermione Granger already flipping through her textbook. Ron Weasley looked vaguely nervous, Harry squinted into the glasshouse interior, and Neville Longbottom looked on the verge of fainting from sheer anticipation.

And Inosuke?

Inosuke was crouched behind a bush, sniffing it.

Professor Sprout squinted. "Is that… Mr. Hashibira?"

"I am observing the enemy," Inosuke said seriously, poking the plant with one finger. "It doesn't fight back. Suspicious."

The plant let out a low, contented purr.

"Please do not sniff the Fuzzy Snapdragon, Mr. Hashibira," Sprout said gently. "It's highly ticklish."

"HAH! Even plants fear me!"

Hermione groaned quietly. "This is going to be another disaster."

"Not necessarily," Harry whispered. "He did sort of survive jumping off a broomstick."

Inside the greenhouse, long rows of potted magical plants lined wooden tables, each labeled with tags written in Professor Sprout's tidy hand. Most of the class stared nervously at the wriggling specimens, some of which occasionally burped pollen or sneezed.

"Today," Professor Sprout announced as the class entered, "we will be starting with one of the tamer plants: Puffapods! These delightful little flowers bloom instantly when dropped."

She held up a pale pink pod that looked like a closed tulip bulb.

"Handle them gently. No magic required for this task—just patience, care, and control."

The class paired off. Hermione naturally gravitated toward Neville, who looked like he'd practiced this lesson since birth. Harry and Ron claimed a pot near the back. Inosuke, however, wandered off to a table at the end—alone.

"I'll keep an eye on him," Professor Sprout whispered to herself.

Inosuke examined the pod on his table like it was a potential opponent.

"Place the pod in the soil, gently press, and wait for it to bloom," Professor Sprout said

Inosuke picked up the pod. It rolled across his palm, velvety and oddly cool. He frowned at it.

"This is a test."

Then, to everyone's shock—he calmly placed it in the soil.

He didn't crush it. He didn't throw it at Ron. He didn't yell.

He gently tapped the dirt over it with his fingers.

A second later, the soil glowed faintly, and a burst of sparkling pink light shot upward.

The pod bloomed instantly—wide, round petals of pale violet fanning out in a perfect ring.

It was beautiful.

Even Professor Sprout clapped her hands. "My word!"

The rest of the class turned to look. Inosuke stood with arms crossed, nodding solemnly.

"I have conquered the flower."

Hermione blinked. "He actually followed the instructions."

Professor Sprout bustled over, inspecting the bloom. "This is… exceptional! Not only did you complete the task properly, but you managed to create a nearly flawless bloom cycle! Most impressive, Mr. Hashibira!"

She turned to the class. "Take notes, everyone! This is textbook Puffapod handling!"

Several Hufflepuffs murmured admiration. Even Neville seemed genuinely impressed.

Inosuke tilted his head. "I do not understand how I won, but I accept this victory."

Harry grinned. "Maybe you're just good with plants."

"Of course I am. I wrestled trees once. These ones are just sleeping."

Sprout moved to the front of the class. "Five points to Gryffindor for Mr. Hashibira's excellent performance!"

Gasps rippled across the greenhouse. Gryffindor had been in the red for days, hovering in the negative thanks to Inosuke's earlier... adventures. For once, the rubies in the Gryffindor hourglass might actually increase.

Fred Weasley's voice could be heard through the open window from somewhere outside: "HE EARNED POINTS?! SOMEBODY WRITE THIS DOWN!"

George added, "History has been made!"

Ron leaned over to Harry. "First flying lesson, he nearly kills himself. Herbology? He's the blooming expert."

 Harry nodded.

Back inside, Professor Sprout had the students rotate partners. This time, she paired Inosuke with Hermione.

"Try not to strangle the flower," Hermione muttered, eyeing him suspiciously.

"I have learned their ways," Inosuke said. "I speak plant now."

Hermione blinked, uncertain whether he was serious.

Together, they repeated the process. Hermione gently cradled her pod, while Inosuke gave his another soft tap.

Both bloomed perfectly.

Hermione looked sideways. "…Okay, how are you better at this than me?"

Inosuke shrugged. "Maybe the plants respect my dominance."

The rest of the class proceeded smoothly—almost suspiciously so. Inosuke refrained from yelling. He didn't body slam any pots. He even helped Seamus when his pod bloomed too early and exploded glitter into his nose.

By the end of the lesson, Professor Sprout looked positively radiant.

"Well done, everyone! Especially you, Mr. Hashibira. I'll admit, I had… certain concerns at the start, but I must say—you've completely surprised me."

Inosuke was crouched over a cluster of empty pots, triumphantly braiding a few stray roots into something resembling a necklace. He looked up with wild pride in his eyes.

"I was born to conquer all fields of battle," he declared, holding the root necklace aloft like a war medal. "Even those made of leaves!"

Professor Sprout blinked. "Er… right. Quite... spirited."

As the class filed out of Greenhouse One, Ron leaned toward Harry, speaking in a low voice.

"D'you think this'll last? Him being... calm?"

Harry didn't even hesitate. "Not a chance."

Behind them, still cradling a small Puffapod plant like a reluctant comrade, Inosuke muttered under his breath, "You are now my second-favorite enemy. First place still belongs… to the broomstick."

The Puffapod shuddered in its pot as he adjusted his root-braided necklace with solemn pride—like a warrior returning from leafy war.

A/N

[Power Stone Please]