Just as Severus was shocked by his own conjecture, the Board of Governors and the members of the judging panel were scrambling to check on Porgie Chalman's condition.
"He's not dead."
"But he's barely clinging to life."
"His body is covered in wounds from the Shadow Thorns; it will probably take a full year for him to recover."
"He likely won't be able to write this year."
Robert showed a look of regret upon hearing this.
"That's truly a shame."
"Don't misunderstand. I mean, when I think about how Herbology scholars will lose Master Bogie's critical articles for the next year, I feel genuine regret. What will I read on the toilet without his articles? The entire Herbology world will be far less entertaining!"
As soon as these words were uttered, they completely enraged the members of the Board of Governors and the judging panel.
"You did this on purpose."
"This was all your trap."
"Insidious, malicious!"
"How could a house have a student like you!"
One of the Board of Governors shouted, "I'm going to expel you!"
Just as he shouted about expelling Robert, Professor Sprout had already pulled out a pot of Biting Cabbage. She threw it at the Board of Governors member. If it weren't for a powerful Protective Charm that appeared at that moment, the Biting Cabbage would have likely made painful contact with his nose. Now it could only bite at the air, looking angry.
At this moment, Dumbledore's helpless voice rang out.
"Pomona. Why are you so ill-tempered now?"
Professor Sprout glared discontentedly at Dumbledore, who had just cast the Protective Charm. "My child is about to be expelled. Can't I be a little ill-tempered?"
Dumbledore smiled bitterly and shook his head, but his tone was firm.
"To expel a student, one must have the consent of the Hogwarts Principal. I don't recall signing such a document. So, Pomona, please put away the Biting Cabbage first."
Professor Sprout snorted coldly, reluctantly putting away the pot. But as she looked at the Board members and judges, she completely abandoned any pretense of politeness.
"You've all seen the situation in the Little Greenhouse. This is not something the judging panel is qualified to evaluate. Henceforth, the Little Greenhouse does not welcome you, and my Herbology teaching does not need evaluation from people who know nothing about Herbology."
The Board member who had almost lost his nose grew even more furious. The other members' faces were equally grim. First, there was the Quidditch match. Now, the Little Greenhouse. Their dignity was being trampled.
A Board member clenched his fist coldly. "Alright. Dumbledore, you want to protect them. But don't forget, the Board of Governors also retains power. We can propose an expulsion process. As long as all members vote unanimously, even if you oppose it, we can expel a student. We have one opportunity each year to initiate this process. Previously, we did not wish to interfere with Hogwarts' teaching. But now, it seems we have no choice."
As soon as these words were spoken, several Board members raised their heads proudly. If Robert wasn't expelled this time, would the Board still have influence over Hogwarts? Wouldn't they become powerless?
Immediately, everyone's gaze fell on Lucius, waiting for him to speak. Lucius looked surprised, even troubled. He only wanted to cause some inconvenience as instructed, not escalate things this far. If he agreed, he might offend Dumbledore and Sprout. If he didn't, he would betray the Board and risk Malfoy business dealings. What if the one behind the scenes blamed him?
At this moment, Lucius felt caught between loyalty and risk. Fortunately, a mocking laugh rang out, diverting attention. It was Severus, who had recovered from his shock.
The Board members still respected the Slytherin Dean. "Dean Severus, what are you laughing at?"
Severus looked at them as if they were fools. "I'm laughing at you. To even speak of expelling Robert."
The Board grew furious. But Severus shook his head disdainfully. "Looking at you, have you never read a magic book? Are your minds so soaked in Galleons and Quidditch? Have you not realized that the Devil's Snare and Shadow Thorns in the Little Greenhouse are mutated subspecies?"
This term bewildered the Board members. They searched their fading memories. Finally, someone recalled what a mutated subspecies of a magical plant was.
"You mean these two plants were not cultivated by traditional methods, but are variations?"
Severus sneered. "Do you even know the significance of independently cultivating three mutated subspecies of magical plants within half a year—and all of them being excellent? You can expel him if you wish, but I guarantee you will not sleep soundly for the rest of your lives."
The Board grew confused. "Severus, what are you saying? Why would expelling a young wizard keep us awake?"
Severus's voice grew dark. "Have you forgotten Durmstrang School? A hundred years ago, they expelled a student. That student swept through nearly the entire European magical world. Durmstrang was condemned. Many said if they had not expelled him, the world might have been spared."
The Board paused, realizing who he meant. Faces turned pale.
"You mean—Grindelwald?!"
Even Lucius widened his eyes, staring at Robert in horror. "Se—Severus—are you saying his talent is comparable to Grindelwald's?"
Severus answered firmly, "Not comparable. Robert's talent in Herbology might even surpass Grindelwald's in the Dark Arts. There have been at least three Grindelwald-level talents this century. But someone like Robert, cultivating three mutated subspecies within half a year, is extremely rare in the history of magic."
He shrugged, almost gleeful. "Of course, you can choose not to believe me. But I've forgotten—what happened to those who expelled Grindelwald? Can anyone remind me?"
The Board froze. What happened? Prison in Nurmengard at best, violent death at worst. They shivered, calculating consequences. Though Severus's words were one-sided, his judgment was not ordinary. He was notoriously harsh; anyone he didn't call an 'idiot' was already a genius. And here he praised Robert so highly.
If Robert truly became a Grindelwald-like figure, what good would expelling him do? Monsters grow anywhere. Grindelwald grew even faster after expulsion. What if Robert repeated that? That was a disaster that could wipe out families. Compared to that, what was saving face worth?
The Board members began to retreat in thought. Yet they had already made such a spectacle—how could they back down? For ordinary men, this would require swallowing pride. But for these Slytherin foxes, what was pride compared to survival?
The same Board member who had shouted for Robert's expulsion suddenly staggered. "Misunderstanding? I didn't take my medicine this morning. Was I having an attack just now?" He pulled out a small bottle apologetically. "When I have attacks, I get muddled. Did I say something crazy? Don't take it to heart." He tilted the bottle back, whiskey scent wafting in the air.
Dumbledore gasped, but let it pass. "Is that so? You must take care of your health. The Board is the pillar of Hogwarts. Without your health, how can the school be well?"
The other Board members nodded, even sighing. "Headmaster, you also look more haggard than before. The magical world cannot be without you." The tense atmosphere melted away, warm as spring breeze—if not for Porgie Chalman's groans of pain.
Their eyes fell on Porgie. They looked at Dumbledore. "Then… perhaps Porgie was too careless, unable to handle the Devil's Snare and Thorns. What do you say, Dumbledore?"
Dumbledore nodded. "Indeed, Porgie was careless. However—" His expression hardened. "Robert, as the person in charge of the Little Greenhouse, failed to assess the risks and ignored Porgie's cries. He planted dangerous plants without approval. He must also be punished."
The Board exchanged glances. They had thought this would end with humiliation, but Dumbledore saved them face, offering punishment. Though not expulsion, it was still a show.
Professor Sprout grew anxious. "Dumbledore!" But he winked at her, then turned serious.
"Pomona, even if you plead, it's useless. You've been too lenient with Robert. Punishment is also education." He looked at Robert sternly. "Robert Sprout. For the entire upcoming week, you will be confined to the Little Greenhouse. Except for food and water delivered by House-elves, you are not allowed to leave!"
Robert was stunned, bewildered. A whole week of confinement? That meant uninterrupted time to plant and study charms! His lips almost curved with joy.
The Board, however, saw his supposed despair and were satisfied. For a first-year, confinement for a week was severe. They remembered their own youth—just a day of confinement was dreadful.
Dumbledore asked, "Robert, do you have objections?"
Robert understood his intent. His heart stirred, and he quickly feigned displeasure. "Principal, a week? That's not fair!"
Dumbledore's brows furrowed. "Not fair? You're right. A week is too little. Two weeks!"
Robert gritted his teeth. "Two weeks?! Principal, that's too much!"
Dumbledore slammed the table. "Three weeks! And you'll patrol the Forbidden Forest at term's end. If you keep protesting, it will be worse."
Robert's bravado collapsed. He crouched, covering his face, trembling. "Understood, Principal. Three weeks. I won't dare again."
The Board, including Lucius, were surprised. They had expected Dumbledore to downplay it. But three weeks and the Forbidden Forest—this was nearly maximum punishment. They felt satisfied.
They prepared to leave, but Lucius lingered. Watching Robert's trembling hands, he thought, Still a child, frightened by such punishment. Yet, according to Snape, his talent is extraordinary. Lucius's heart stirred—investment opportunity.
He pulled a parchment from his robes, handing it to Robert. "Don't be afraid, young Mr. Sprout. Though the Forbidden Forest is dangerous, if you learn this Charm, you won't be afraid. This is a collection unique to the House of Malfoy. In the future, if you need ancient texts, we would be delighted to assist."
With that, Lucius left. Robert uncovered his face, revealing a suppressed smile. The "punishment" was perfect. Then he looked at the parchment with curiosity. Seeing the contents, his eyes widened.
"This is?"
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