In a quiet, flower-filled valley, nestled among rolling green hills and the gentle hum of bees, stood the Sprout family manor. The manor's stone walls were completely draped in lush vines, ivy, and a tapestry of flowering plants, blending the house so seamlessly into the valley that it seemed almost a part of the landscape itself. The air was fragrant with blossoms, and the songs of birds drifted through the open windows.
Char gazed at the manor in awe, his eyes wide with admiration.
"What a wonderful place, Aunt," he breathed, unable to hide his delight.
Professor Sprout's face lit up with a gentle smile, but a shadow of old sorrow flickered in her eyes.
"Your father and I grew up in this house," she said softly, her voice tinged with nostalgia. "We spent so many happy years here, tending the gardens, learning about every plant and flower. But after… after what happened to him, I was the only one left. It became too painful to stay, so I rarely came back."
Char's heart tightened with empathy. He looked at his aunt, his voice quiet.
"Aunt… how did my parents die?"
Professor Sprout's hand clenched, her expression darkening with a mix of grief and anger.
"It was Antonin Dolohov," she said, her words heavy. "He was a cold-blooded executioner—one of the most ruthless Death Eaters. During the war, he killed so many who dared to resist He Who Must Not Be Named. The Prewett brothers, who were so brave and good—they fell to Dolohov's Killing Curse. The Longbottoms, so strong and resilient, were tortured into madness by him and his followers. And… your parents. They, too, died under his spells."
Tears shimmered in Professor Sprout's eyes.
"Such a monster deserves to rot in Azkaban forever."
Char listened in silence, committing the name Dolohov to memory. He remembered from the Harry Potter stories that there would be a major breakout from Azkaban one day. Perhaps, when that time came, he could do something to help… But for now, he reminded himself, the best way to prepare was to plant more trees, grow stronger, and build his abilities.
Sensing the heaviness in the air, Professor Sprout wiped her eyes and forced a smile.
"Let's not dwell on sad things any longer. Today is your first day back in the Sprout family, Char. Come, let me show you around the manor. Where would you like to start?"
Char hesitated, but Professor Sprout laughed, her mood lightening.
"Knowing you, I bet you're most interested in the greenhouse!"
She led him through the ancient halls, past portraits of Sprout ancestors and through corridors where sunlight danced through the vine-covered windows. Finally, she opened a thick wooden door, revealing a sprawling greenhouse filled with vibrant magical plants of every kind.
"This is the greenhouse that the Sprout family has tended for generations," she said, her voice full of pride and affection. "Herbology is our family tradition. This greenhouse, and the knowledge within it, are our most precious inheritance."
She turned to Char, her eyes shining.
"And now, this greenhouse is yours."
Char stared at her in shock. Even in the Muggle world, a greenhouse like this would be worth a fortune—here, in the magical world, its value was beyond imagining.
Before he could protest, Professor Sprout continued, "I already have the best greenhouse at Hogwarts. I haven't had time to care for this one, and it's a shame to let it go unused. You are the only Sprout left besides me. Who else could I trust with this treasure?"
Char considered her words, then nodded, his voice sincere.
"Thank you, Aunt. I promise to make good use of it—and to honor the Sprout name."
Professor Sprout's smile grew even warmer.
"I know you will. Now, let me show you how everything works."
She explained the features of the greenhouse with clear pride.
"The Undetectable Extension Charm makes it much larger inside than it appears. You can control the temperature and humidity in different sections—one end can be icy cold, the other as hot as a volcano. The soil has been enriched with magical fertilizers for generations, making it perfect for magical herbs. Plants grow faster, stronger, and with greater magical properties here."
Char listened, his excitement growing with every word. This was a Herbologist's dream—a laboratory, a sanctuary, a place where his skills could truly flourish.
He turned to Professor Sprout, determination in his eyes.
"Aunt, I'll make the most of this. I won't let you down."
She beamed at him.
"I believe you. Now, are you tired? Would you like to eat or rest?"
But Char shook his head, grinning.
"How could I rest now? I can't wait to start planting!"
Professor Sprout laughed softly.
"All right, I see you're eager. Let's get you started on your first magical herb. Is there anything you'd like to plant?"
Char's gaze fell on the three Marguerite plants he'd brought with him—the very plants that had awakened his magic and brought him to this world. He remembered the rewards they offered, and how much he still needed to strengthen his magic.
"I'd like to start with Marguerites," he said.
Professor Sprout nodded.
"A good choice. Marguerite is a magical herb, but not too difficult to grow. It loves heat and stuffiness, and—most unusually—it thrives on positive emotions. To grow Marguerites, you need to keep the greenhouse warm and stuffy, and you must spend time with them in a happy mood. The more cheerful you are, and the more you visit, the faster they'll grow."
Char's eyes widened in realization. No wonder his Marguerites hadn't sprouted in London's cold, damp weather. Only recently, when the days had turned hot and he'd been happiest in the garden, had they finally begun to thrive.
With his Legendary-level heat resistance and Epic-level drought resistance, Char knew he could handle any climate the Marguerites required. He was determined to fill the greenhouse with them before school started, to boost his magic as much as possible.
Professor Sprout brought out a large pouch of Marguerite seeds and demonstrated the planting process, pointing out the little tricks that made all the difference. Char followed her lead, carefully planting a seedling. As he finished, the familiar system prompt appeared before his eyes:
[You have successfully planted a Marguerite]
[Reward available: Extremely weak increase in magic (in gestation)]
[After the Marguerite matures, the reward will be upgraded to: Weak increase in magic]
He noticed that the light orb above this new Marguerite was noticeably larger than before. Even if the system's description hadn't changed, the actual reward would be much greater—at least 30% more, he guessed.
Just then, the sound of owl wings fluttered outside the greenhouse. Professor Sprout received a letter, her expression turning serious as she read the signature.
"A letter from Dumbledore. He says he has something important to discuss with me."
Char smiled reassuringly.
"Aunt, go ahead. I'll stay here and take care of the greenhouse. I promise I won't leave the manor."
Professor Sprout gave him a warm hug, reminding him not to overwork himself, and then hurried off to meet Dumbledore.
Left alone, Char took a deep breath. The greenhouse was already warm and stuffy, but for him, it felt as comfortable as a spring day. Professor Sprout had worried about making it too hot, but now, with her gone, Char could experiment freely.
He waved his wand, adjusting the temperature controls until the air shimmered with heat. An ordinary person would have wilted, but Char felt right at home. He watched the reward light on his Marguerites grow even larger, his heart racing with excitement.
"Let's see just how much magic I can grow," he murmured, smiling. "Temperature—full blast!"
And so, in the heart of the Sprout family's magical greenhouse, Char's new life truly began—surrounded by plants, hope, and the promise of a magical future.