Chapter 36: Bitterthorn Seeds

When Leonard arrived at Ollivander's Wand Shop, Harry Potter had already left, and Mr. Ollivander was busy tidying up the chaotic shop.

The mess was the usual aftermath of a young wizard choosing their wand—Harry was no exception.

Leonard used a powerful Mending Charm to help Ollivander set things right, then turned to assist with wand maintenance orders.

Naturally, Ollivander began speaking of the Chosen One.

"A child whose fame overshadows his talent—he may face a hard road ahead," Ollivander said as he handed Leonard a wand needing repair. "I don't understand why Albus would put such pressure on him."

"Clearly, the Headmaster has high hopes for him," Leonard replied, carefully repairing the wand's fine damage with a Mending Charm.

"A child. What can he truly accomplish?" Ollivander shook his head.

He clearly didn't know about the prophecy tying the Chosen One to Voldemort, and so was unaware of Dumbledore's reasoning.

Leonard shouldn't have known either, so he didn't linger on the subject. Instead, he shifted the topic back to wands.

"Do wands need regular maintenance?"

"Not usually. Only for those constantly in magical combat—duelists, Aurors. Some damage comes from spell impact, others simply from poor storage." Ollivander's tone turned a little indignant.

"Sometimes I think I never should have offered wand maintenance and repair services. Maybe then they'd learn to treat their wands with care."

The frustration was rooted in long experience. Magical damage he could understand, but so many wands were ruined through sheer carelessness.

Leonard let him vent, then handed back the repaired wand and asked curiously, "Without a powerful Mending Charm, how would you repair a damaged wand?"

"Then you'd need potions alongside a basic Mending Charm—slow, tedious, more work than crafting a wand in the first place." Ollivander took the wand, wrapped it, and set it in a box. "I do wish you could stay and help me."

"That won't do. I've got school, and wandmaking isn't really my interest," Leonard shook his head.

"I know, I won't press. Still, watching you use that wand for Mending Charms gave me some inspiration. Perhaps one day I'll craft a wand made specifically for repairing other wands." Ollivander smiled faintly, then pulled a box from beneath the counter and offered it to Leonard.

"You've helped me a lot these past days. I don't have much to give in thanks, but I bought this for you."

"You're too kind," Leonard said, taking the box. "Truthfully, I owe you thanks. Your help has meant more."

"Ha! No need for such formality between us. Go on, open it," Ollivander chuckled. "I think you'll like it."

Leonard's curiosity stirred. What kind of gift would suit him so well? By his guess…

He opened the box to find a glass vial filled with spiky, granular seeds.

"Bitterthorn seeds. I heard from Jigger that you've been buying magical plant seeds, so I sought these out especially."

A magical plant! And not just one—dozens of seeds! This was even better than being gifted a mature plant outright.

Leonard was overjoyed, a rush of excitement flooding him at the sheer luck of it.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Ollivander. I really do like this gift," Leonard said with genuine gratitude.

To the well-connected Ollivander, a vial of magical plant seeds might not mean much, but since it had been specially sought out for him, its worth lay as much in the thought as in the value.

"I'm glad you're satisfied. That's a relief," Ollivander smiled, though his expression quickly turned serious. "Leonard, while you clearly have a strong affinity with plants, don't forget—some can be truly dangerous."

"For instance, certain plants secrete venom. Take this Bitterthorn—it releases a powerful anesthetic toxin that can kill small animals. For Muggles, it's even deadlier. Once, a Muggle princess pricked her finger on it and fell into a long coma. Even the seeds are dangerous—if one pricks your skin, you'll lose a few seconds of memory. Be careful. Its thorns are razor-sharp."

"I'll keep that in mind," Leonard said gratefully.

This plant sounded very promising indeed. A venom with paralyzing effects? He couldn't help but wonder what it might become once enhanced.

The vial held dozens of seeds at least—plenty for him to experiment with and test different enhancement paths.

"And maybe I can use Bitterthorn as fencing for my [Botanical Garden]," Leonard thought, his eyes brightening as he considered its potential.

He'd been worrying over his garden for some time—how to keep it hidden and properly defended.

This venomous plant with its paralyzing effect seemed perfect. Even inside the Forbidden Forest, it could carve out a safe haven for him.

Still, how best to use it would depend on the plant's performance after enhancement.

...

After bidding farewell to Ollivander, Leonard returned to the Leaky Cauldron, planning to test the Bitterthorn seeds in his room. But as soon as he stepped inside, he spotted Harry Potter and Hagrid having a late breakfast.

And then he noticed a suspicious-looking man in a turban, reeking of spices, watching Harry intently.

Quirinus Quirrell.

The moment Leonard saw him, he knew instantly—the man's scent was unmistakable.

This was the one carrying Voldemort.

Leonard's first instinct was to turn and walk away, but his scavenger instincts forced him to stop.

That kind of reaction would be far too conspicuous. It would only invite suspicion.

Keeping his expression neutral, Leonard decided to head straight upstairs. But just as he reached the stairs, Harry Potter called out.

"Leonard!" Harry's face lit up as he rushed over, looking eager and excited.

Naturally, Quirinus Quirrell's eyes followed him too.

Not again…

Leonard's eyelid twitched. Stifling the urge to leave rudely, he turned toward Harry.

"Hello, Potter," Leonard greeted, all while watching Quirrell carefully out of the corner of his eye.