Chapter 83: How About Just Stealing It?
Next, Professor Sprout led the students through Greenhouse Two, where they saw mandrakes; Greenhouse Three, which housed Chomping Cabbages and a magical plant called Puffapod; and Greenhouse Four, which contained the Venomous Tentacula.
Since these plants weren't part of this term's curriculum, Professor Sprout only gave them a brief introduction without going into detail or asking questions.
Leonard, however, paid close attention.
The mandrake—a magical plant with roots shaped like a shriveled little person—emitted a dreadful cry. Immature mandrakes could knock people unconscious, while a mature mandrake's cry was fatal.
A plant that could kill with sound intrigued Leonard. Giggs's Apothecary had sold mandrake before, but only in pre-processed form, stripped of all vitality.
Leonard couldn't help wondering: if he faced a mandrake himself, would its deadly scream have no effect on him? Or would the plant, in some strange sense of "friendship," spare him the shriek?
It was a question worth testing—but obtaining a mandrake would be nearly impossible.
Mandrakes had no seeds. Like potatoes, they reproduced through rhizomes. Just a piece of root could grow into a full plant, but processed mandrake root was useless for planting.
That made sense. Given their lethality, mandrakes were classified as Category C prohibited items, just like Venomous Tentacula seeds.
Category C wasn't a rank but a classification. All similar plants fell into this group. By comparison, the eggs of magical creatures like dragons, which were banned from keeping, were Category B prohibited items, while certain potions were categorized as A-class restricted goods.
So, if Leonard wanted to grow a mandrake, he'd need to ask Midgard if she could smuggle one from Knockturn Alley.
Or… simply steal one from the greenhouse?
Leonard's eyes lingered on the mandrake buried in its pot, its stalks trembling slightly, and a criminal thought crossed his mind.
He had robbed Gringotts—why should stealing a magical plant faze him?
Aside from the mandrake, the Venomous Tentacula also tempted him.
Hogwarts really was a paradise. Magical plants nearly impossible to obtain outside were here in abundance, waiting for students to study and experiment with.
Even after Herbology ended, Leonard was still debating whether to sneak into the greenhouse later to steal a plant. He followed Justin and Ernie absentmindedly, only realizing where they were when they arrived at the Great Hall.
"What are we doing here?" Leonard asked, puzzled. "Isn't Transfiguration next?"
The Transfiguration classroom was in the north wing, while the Great Hall was in the south. Getting lost this far was absurd.
"Relax, we've got more than an hour before class," Justin said.
"Yeah, and there's no point getting to the classroom early. Why don't we…" Ernie pushed open the Great Hall doors. "…grab brunch?"
The Great Hall was calm. Many students were scattered across the long tables, casually helping themselves to food.
Hogwarts had thoughtfully prepared brunch, a meal meant to recharge students between study hours.
In truth, it was just breakfast stretched out late into the morning, and from the looks of it, it would last right up until lunch.
As for lunch… since arriving in this world, Leonard had hardly eaten it—except during his month at the Leaky Cauldron. Normally, he just snacked on something light like sandwiches or cold dishes.
Dinner was probably more substantial, though Leonard wasn't sure; he was only guessing from what he knew of British habits.
"Yeah, without food, how are we supposed to concentrate in class? I heard Professor McGonagall, who teaches Transfiguration, is really strict. She's Head of Gryffindor but never shows favoritism." Justin sounded like he was sharing insider news.
Since both roommates agreed, Leonard didn't object.
They sat at the Hufflepuff table, ready for a hearty brunch.
"Leonard, pass me that jam, would you?" Ernie asked as soon as he sat down, already preparing a jam sandwich. "That jam looks great. I was in such a rush this morning I didn't get to eat—gotta try it now."
Leonard handed him the jam, passed Justin the milk he wanted, then served himself two slices of bacon and a… fried egg.
Not a regular fried egg, but a true fried egg—boiled and peeled, wrapped in minced beef, coated in breadcrumbs, and deep-fried until golden brown, usually eaten with black pepper or ketchup.
Leonard studied the golden ball on his fork, then bit into it with mixed feelings.
It tasted good, but the odd way of eating eggs felt unfamiliar. If he remembered correctly, this dish was called a Scotch egg—something from the homeland of this body he now inhabited—though he had never actually eaten one before.
It was a bit dry.
Leonard forced the bite down and washed it away with milk.
Just as he was enjoying his meal, he suddenly sensed a trace of malice.
Someone nearby seemed to be scheming against him.
Keeping his expression neutral, Leonard set down his cup, picked up the smooth silver spoon beside him, and twirled it idly, as if he were just toying with it.
…
In truth, he had already scanned the crowd using the spoon's reflection.
It didn't take long for him to pinpoint the source—the Slytherin table.
Slytherin…
Leonard set down the silver spoon, a mocking smile tugging at his lips.
He was mocking himself for overreacting.
At first, he thought Quirrell had his eye on him, which was why he'd been so cautious. But when he realized it was just a bunch of Slytherin students, he instantly lost interest.
They were only students. Leonard could flatten them barehanded.
Since emerging from the ruins of Gringotts' Vault Twelve, Leonard had noticed changes in the Ancient Sprout. Its silver reserves of magic had grown, enough to fuel roughly three Ancient Spells.
Another, less obvious change was his body. He had grown stronger—his strength and endurance now rivaled those of a well-trained adult. If anyone tried to ambush him, he'd be more than happy to let them taste the iron fist of justice.
With swagger, Leonard turned his head toward the Slytherin table. His eyes immediately locked on Draco Malfoy, who was whispering with a buck-toothed boy while sneaking glances in his direction.
When Draco realized Leonard was staring back, his expression froze. Instinctively, he wanted to look away, but that felt too cowardly. Forcing himself, he met Leonard's gaze.
The buck-toothed boy beside him, who looked fifteen or sixteen, glared at Leonard with a dark expression. Slowly, he raised his hand and extended his index and middle fingers toward him.
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