HP: The Boy who Planted

Char stared at his system panel, heart pounding with excitement. The Pruning Spell—his second silver-level spell—glimmered with a fresh, silvery sheen. He couldn't help but grin. The last time he'd felt this satisfied was when his Soil Loosening Spell had leveled up, and that had changed everything for his magical gardening.

He remembered how the silver-level Soil Loosening Spell had made the earth itself come alive, stimulating more vitality and speeding up the growth of every plant he touched. His success rate had soared, and plants matured faster than ever. That upgrade had been a game-changer. Now, with the Pruning Spell reaching silver, Char's anticipation was almost unbearable. What new magic would this bring?

He hurried to the greenhouse, his mind racing with possibilities. The glow mushrooms were in their final stage—caps had formed across most of the field, signaling that the harvest was near. But even in these ideal conditions, some mushrooms lagged behind, their caps stunted or crowded. If left unchecked, the overcrowding would sap nutrients from the healthy mushrooms, and the weaker ones would wither away.

This was the moment when pruning mattered most. Char rolled up his sleeves, eager to put his new spell to the test. He raised his wand, feeling the familiar surge of magic, and cast: "Arbor-Siccus!"

The spell's silvery light washed over the mushroom caps. Char watched closely, feeling the difference immediately. The spell was more precise than ever, snipping away only the unhealthy or unnecessary parts. The healthy caps remained untouched, and the nutrients from the trimmed pieces seemed to flow more efficiently into the remaining mushrooms.

Char nodded in satisfaction. "It's more accurate, less damaging, and the cut parts provide more nourishment," he thought. "But is that all? Where's the real qualitative leap?"

He kept casting, pruning with care and attention, searching for something extraordinary. On his twentieth try, he noticed something strange. One of the trimmed mushroom caps didn't dissolve into nutrients like the others. Instead, it remained perfectly intact—fresh, whole, and almost glowing with potential.

Char's eyes widened. "Could it be…?"

He quickly planted the cap in a fresh patch of soil. Instantly, a message appeared above it:

[You have successfully grown glow mushrooms, and you will receive a reward...]

[When the glow mushrooms mature, the reward will be upgraded to...]

A small, shimmering reward orb floated above the new mushroom cap. Char's heart leapt with joy. "It's like cuttings!" he realized. "The silver-level Pruning Spell gives me a chance to regrow new plants from the trimmed parts!"

He knew that in Muggle agriculture, cuttings were a common way to propagate plants, but it was tricky—many failed, especially with magical herbs. But now, with his upgraded spell, Char could achieve what most wizards only dreamed of. Even if the success rate was just five percent, it meant that every time he pruned, he could potentially grow more mushrooms, more goldfish spider plants—more of everything.

He did the math in his head. If he pruned a hundred plants four or five times each during their growth, and each time five percent of the cuttings survived, he could end up with twenty percent more mature plants than he started with. That was a huge boost in both harvest and magical rewards.

"And this is just the beginning," Char thought, his eyes shining. "If I can get the Pruning Spell to gold or even legendary level, maybe I could double my harvests!"

The work became almost addictive. Every time a trimmed cap survived and started to grow, Char felt a rush of satisfaction—a little like winning a magical lottery. He lost track of time, moving from plant to plant, casting, trimming, and replanting, his system panel's silver glow growing richer with every success.

By noon the next day, Char was still at it, his hands dirty and his heart light. Professor Sprout entered the greenhouse and stopped short, surprised by the sight of her nephew searching the fields with intense focus.

"Charles, did you lose something?" she asked, concern in her voice. "Tell me what it is, and I'll use the Flying Spell to help you find it."

Char straightened, a sheepish grin on his face. "No, nothing's lost. I just… I've had a breakthrough with the Pruning Spell, and I want to keep practicing. But I've already pruned everything that can be pruned. I wish there were more mushroom caps to cut!"

Professor Sprout laughed, shaking her head. "You're the first student I've ever seen so passionate about pruning plants. Most kids your age would rather be outside flying brooms or playing games."

She softened, her eyes full of pride. "But you need to get out of the greenhouse sometimes, Charles. You're going to turn into a mushroom yourself if you stay in here too long."

With a flourish, she produced a long, thin package from behind her back. "Look what I have for you—a custom-made Nimbus 2000 broomstick! It's my gift to you for joining the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. Our first training session is this afternoon. You need to get some fresh air and have some fun."

Char's eyes widened in delight. He carefully unwrapped the package, revealing the sleek, polished broom. The mahogany handle gleamed, and the tail was perfectly trimmed, each branch straight and strong. Gold lettering on the shaft read: "A Nimbus 2000 broom, for my dear nephew, Charles Sprout."

He ran his fingers over the smooth wood, awed by its craftsmanship. "Thank you, Auntie," he said, his voice full of gratitude.

Professor Sprout beamed. "It's nothing like the old school brooms you used in flying lessons. Those are so tangled and neglected, they're practically antiques. This Nimbus 2000 will let you show your true flying skills."

Char nodded, then paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "Auntie, what are the branches of a broom made from? Magical willow? Something else?"

Professor Sprout smiled. "It depends on the broom, but many are made from magical willow or birch. Why do you ask?"

Char's mind raced. "Hogwarts must have hundreds of old brooms in storage—brooms that have been used and discarded for centuries. If the branches are magical, maybe I could use them for cuttings, too…"

He grinned, excitement bubbling up inside him. "I can't wait to try this out on the Quidditch pitch!"

With a final wave to Professor Sprout, Char tucked the Nimbus 2000 under his arm and hurried toward the stadium, his thoughts full of new possibilities. Not only could he help Hufflepuff win the Quidditch Cup, but maybe—just maybe—he could unlock even more secrets of magical plants and brooms.

As he dashed across the grounds, the sun shone down on Hogwarts, the greenhouse glowed with life, and Char felt, for the first time, that anything was possible.

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