Professor Sprout froze, the words hanging in the humid air between them. He thinks... he thinks I'm here to take his job?
For a fleeting second, the absurdity of it almost made her laugh. But the moment passed, replaced by a fresh wave of sorrow that pierced her heart. The sheer confidence with which he listed his "qualifications"—no need for food, water, or sleep—spoke of a life so harsh it was nearly incomprehensible. Merlin, what has he endured? To value this back-breaking labour so highly...
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Professor Sprout gently began to explain. She spoke of his parents, of the attack by dark wizards, and of a magical world he was born into but never knew. She told him about the Book of Admittance at a school called Hogwarts and how, just yesterday, his name had magically appeared within its pages.
Now it was Ciel's turn to freeze. The world seemed to tilt on its axis. He'd always assumed he'd landed in some parallel version of his own world, just set in the past. He never, ever considered… The Harry Potter world? I'm in the Harry Potter world?
He knew of Professor Sprout, the kind-hearted Herbology professor from Hufflepuff House. But to think that he was her nephew... it was beyond belief.
Seeing the stunned look on Ciel's face, Sprout's own expression softened with emotion. "Your family was attacked by Death Eaters, Ciel," she said gently. "The house... there was nothing left. I truly thought you were gone." Her voice cracked. "But Merlin's beard, you must have had a magical outburst yesterday. The Book of Admittance recorded your name, and that's how I knew. That's how I found you."
Ciel's mind reeled. A magical outburst? Yesterday? Then, a memory clicked into place, sharp and clear.
Ever since discovering his Planting System, he had been exploring its limits. He'd learned early on that the reward from a plant was directly proportional to its rarity and difficulty to cultivate. Because of this, alongside planting mundane crops like cotton, he spent years searching for and attempting to grow exotic and unknown seeds.
Just yesterday, a cluster of seeds he'd planted a year prior had finally sprouted. He hadn't recognised the species.
Planted Marguerites x3.
But when the familiar orb of light had appeared above the seedlings, the mental text that came with it was something he'd never seen before.
Lacks necessary information. Unable to read reward content.
Driven by curiosity, he hadn't waited for them to mature. He'd harvested the reward from one of the sprouts then and there. At the time, he hadn't felt much—just a strange, gentle breeze that swept past him before disappearing. Could that have been it? The magical outburst? If so, that meant the reward for planting a Marguerite was related to magic, a concept his system couldn't parse because he had no framework for it.
An idea sparked. "Aunt," he began, the word feeling surprisingly natural on his tongue. He led her to a quiet corner of the plantation, a secluded spot where he conducted his more unusual experiments. He pointed to two remaining, delicate sprouts pushing through the soil. "You're the Herbology professor at Hogwarts, so you must know all sorts of plants. Can you tell me what this is?"
Hearing him call her "Aunt" sent a wave of pure joy through Professor Sprout. Her heart swelled. He doesn't resent me. After all these years alone, he accepts me. A warmth bloomed in her chest. Look at him, a true Sprout. He was handsome, despite the hardship etched onto his young features. And even after all this, he still found joy in nurturing things, in learning. What a wonderful boy.
She leaned in to examine the sprouts. A look of genuine surprise crossed her face.
"My word... these are Marguerites," she breathed. "They're a magical herb. Quite lovely, of course, but their true value is in potion-making. They can be used to brew a draught that helps stabilise a young wizard's volatile magic. They're notoriously difficult to grow in Muggle soil... Ciel, how on earth did you manage to cultivate them?"
Her face beamed with pride. He has the gift. The Sprout family's talent for Herbology lives on in him!
The moment she finished speaking, something shifted in Ciel's perception. The mental text associated with the Marguerites clarified, the missing information slotting neatly into place.
Marguerite Planting Reward: Magic Power (Minute Increase - Developing). Maturity Bonus: Magic Power (Slight Increase).
It all made sense now. The original Ciel Sprout, the one born into this world, must not have had any magic. That's why he wasn't in the books, why he was never recorded by the Book of Admittance. He was destined to live and die in the Muggle world, completely unaware of his heritage.
But then Ciel, the transmigrator, had arrived. By successfully planting a magical herb, he had unknowingly gifted himself with a spark of magic. That tiny reward, that "minute increase in magic power," was like the first flap of a butterfly's wings, setting in motion a cascade of events that would rewrite his destiny. He now had the key to enter Hogwarts.
A surge of pure, unadulterated joy erupted in Ciel's chest. He hadn't just survived; he had stumbled into a world of wonder he'd only ever dreamed of. Who hadn't wished for an owl with a letter, for a door to open into a world of magic? And with his Planting System... the wizarding world, with its countless magical plants, wasn't just a new home. It was a paradise. A veritable treasure trove waiting to be cultivated. The possibilities... they're endless!
Professor Sprout watched him, her eyes shining. "Ciel," she asked, her voice cautious, hopeful. "Will you let me... will you let me take care of you?"
Ciel met her expectant, longing gaze, and a genuine warmth spread through him. He nodded. "Of course, Aunt."
A grin split Professor Sprout's face. But just as the joy began to bubble over, Ciel spoke again. "I do have one request, though."
A look of fierce determination settled on Sprout's features. She felt she owed this boy everything. She was the Head of Hufflepuff House, a master of Herbology whose influence reached across the wizarding world. Even the notoriously prickly Potions Master, Severus Snape, owed her favours for the rare ingredients she supplied. There was nothing she wouldn't do for her nephew.
"Anything, Ciel," she said, her voice full of love. "Whatever you ask for, I will make it happen. If you wanted a fire dragon, I'd have the Ministry approve the licence myself."
To her surprise, Ciel shook his head. "A fire dragon? What would I do with that?" A bright, eager light sparked in his eyes. "Aunt, I want a piece of land. A place of my own to plant things." He paused, then added hopefully, "And... if you could get me some strange or interesting seeds... that would be even better."
Professor Sprout stared at him, utterly astonished. His one request, his "demanding" condition, was that? She, a Herbology Master with dominion over all the greenhouses at Hogwarts, was being asked for a patch of dirt and some seeds. It was like asking the ocean for a cup of water. It was, without a doubt, the easiest and most wonderful request she could have imagined.
"Of course!" she exclaimed, her voice brimming with affection. "You can have as much land as you wish. I'll even guide you myself!"
She beamed at Ciel, her love for him practically overflowing. Then, as if remembering something vital, she reached into her robes.
"Oh, I almost forgot." She produced a thick, heavy envelope of yellowish parchment. There was no stamp, but the back was sealed with a wax crest bearing a lion, a badger, an eagle, and a snake.
"This is for you," she said, handing it to him. "Normally, an owl would deliver it, but... well, I couldn't wait."
She smiled, her eyes twinkling through happy tears.
"Welcome back to the magical world, Ciel."
***********
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