Char's gaze fell upon the parchment in his hands.
A single spell immediately drew his attention.
"Serpensortia…"
He murmured the incantation softly, repeating it as though testing the weight of the word.
"Or rather—Serpensortia?"
The name itself stirred a memory. Char recalled the description of the Dueling Club in the original tale, during the second school year at Hogwarts. Back then, Draco Malfoy had dueled Harry Potter, and the very spell Malfoy cast was none other than this one.
Its effect had been dramatic: a large black snake shot from the wand, coiling high, ready to strike. If Harry had not been a Parselmouth—able to communicate with serpents—the spell would have been nearly impossible for any ordinary second-year wizard to manage.
Char's eyes flickered with curiosity. He had not expected to encounter this spell so early, collected and passed down by the House of Malfoy, even before Draco himself would use it.
Just then, a concerned voice broke the silence.
"Char, what did Lucius Malfoy give you?"
It was Professor Sprout, her tone both cautious and worried.
"That man's gifts aren't necessarily all good."
Char saw no reason to conceal the truth. He handed her the parchment directly, the ink upon it shimmering faintly with traces of enchantment.
"Professor," he said calmly.
"It's a spell called Serpensortia. Its effect is to summon venomous snakes."
Professor Sprout's brows drew together as she read the words.
"This… this counts as introductory Dark Arts, doesn't it?" she said uneasily.
"In my opinion, Char, you should at least wait until your second year before attempting something like this—"
But before she could finish, a voice—mild yet authoritative—cut across the room.
"Pomona, I don't think you need to be so conservative."
The speaker was none other than Dumbledore.
Professor Sprout blinked in surprise. She had never imagined that Dumbledore, of all people, would support Char learning a spell associated with the Dark Arts so soon.
Dumbledore smiled gently as her gaze fell upon him.
"Serpensortia… yes, I know the spell well," he said.
"Because of its aggressive effect, it is indeed classified as an introductory Dark Arts incantation. However, it does not rely on negative emotions to fuel it. In truth, it is a rather elegant example of Transfiguration, which makes it entirely suitable for Char to study at this stage."
He added, with a whimsical gleam in his eyes, "Besides, if Char truly intended harm to someone, I believe a baseball bat would serve him far better than a wand."
The humor in his words eased the tension in the greenhouse. Professor Sprout let out a breath and finally returned the parchment to Char.
Char's expression, however, was complicated. To be honest, he had never held much interest in Serpensortia. As Dumbledore himself had pointed out, Char's physical strength alone was more than enough to overpower most ordinary opponents. And with Sectumsempra as a trump card, the practical need for conjuring serpents seemed trivial.
Yet now that Dumbledore had vouched for the spell, Char began to see it differently. If even the Headmaster believed this spell to be of value, then perhaps it contained far more depth than its surface effect suggested.
That, in itself, made sense.
In the original tale, Malfoy was never portrayed as lacking in spells. Many of the incantations he used had peculiar or unique qualities, and some were never seen wielded by others at all. Surely this was because Lucius Malfoy had hand-selected them for his son. As a scion of a wealthy and influential house, Lucius had access to powerful knowledge and ensured his heir would not be deprived of such advantages.
So why Serpensortia?
If its only purpose was to summon a venomous snake, there were far more effective combat spells available. For Lucius Malfoy—a Death Eater and a man of considerable cunning—to favor this particular spell suggested it held greater potential than it appeared.
The thought quickened Char's mind.
He suddenly remembered the famous duel at the Ministry of Magic—one of the rare, fully documented battles between Dumbledore and Lord Voldemort. During that clash, Voldemort had conjured venomous serpents with terrifying ease.
Could that have been a supreme application of Serpensortia?
In Voldemort's hands, the spell required no incantation, no visible effort. Instead of a single snake, hundreds—thousands, even—had manifested, writhing like a living tide of death.
If so, then perhaps this version of Serpensortia, preserved in the archives of the Malfoy family, had a darker origin. Could it have been a reward Voldemort himself had once given to Lucius Malfoy?
After all, snake-related magic was not especially common in the wizarding world. And for a family as image-conscious as the Malfoys, obsessed with beauty and refinement, serpents hardly aligned with their aesthetic. Unless, of course, there was an external reason—one tied to their master, the Dark Lord himself.
At that realization, Char felt a spark of unease.
If this parchment truly carried Voldemort's shadow, then for Lucius Malfoy to so openly present it under Dumbledore's watchful eye suggested layers of intent and schemes hidden beneath the surface.
Char's chest tightened for a moment.
The Malfoys, after all, were far from incompetent. In the original timeline, though both Lucius and Draco had often seemed laughable when set against Harry and his friends, their family always managed to remain standing. Through every upheaval—whether Voldemort rose or fell, whether Dumbledore's influence waned or waxed—the Malfoys somehow survived, even prospered.
That required no small amount of skill.
But just as quickly as those thoughts came, Char pushed them aside. His mind settled, like ripples fading on a pond.
Schemes, politics, hidden wars—such things were not his concern.
He reminded himself: he was only a first-year student. Unless someone dared to harm his plants or threaten Professor Sprout, he had no reason to become entangled in those storms.
His role was simple. To farm. To study. To grow stronger through magic. That was enough.
At that moment, Dumbledore raised his wand. With a single motion, a protective enchantment shimmered into existence, encasing the entire Little Greenhouse in an invisible barrier.
"Very well," Dumbledore said softly.
"Until this ward dissipates, nothing shall enter or leave except food, water, and the essential resources to maintain the greenhouse. Char, you may serve your detention here in complete safety."
The sight filled Char with relief. Under Dumbledore's magic, the greenhouse had become perhaps the safest haven in all of Hogwarts. Inside, he no longer had to worry about dangers from outside forces.
As for the solitude, the tedium, the long hours of routine—Char's lips curved into a smile.
"Boredom and tedium," he whispered to himself, "I love them the most.
Boredom allows one to focus without distraction.
Tedium forces one to refine every action, over and over, until perfection is achieved.
And from such repetition comes progress."
Without hesitation, Char stepped through the protective barrier. The door closed behind him with a soft thud, sealing him away from the outside world.
Now, it was just him and the rows of plants. The agitation and unease of earlier events melted into serenity.
His gaze returned to the parchment in his hand. The elegant strokes of Serpensortia gleamed faintly in the filtered light.
Char's lips moved as he whispered the incantation. His wand lifted instinctively, tracing gestures in the air. Sometimes his brows furrowed in concentration; other times they smoothed as understanding dawned. Slowly, steadily, he immersed himself entirely in the study of magic.
The outside world, with all its conflicts and secrets, had no place here.
On his system panel, the word Serpensortia began to glow faintly, marking the beginning of a new mastery.
For more chapters
patreon.com/Ben479