Chapter 114
Professor Sprout wasn't looking her best today, a far cry from her usual cheerful demeanor.
For their first Herbology class of the new term, they were taken to Greenhouse Three to study somewhat more dangerous plants.
"I heard that this morning, the professor was tending to the school's only Whomping Willow, but then Professor Lockhart decided to 'show off' and only made things worse. Sprout was furious.
"What she could have easily treated herself was now worse than before.
"The Whomping Willow could have recovered easily, but now it would need careful tending for a long time.
"She's been in a foul mood ever since, and even went back at noon to treat it again."
Draco, who'd already gotten the scoop, whispered to Ethan.
"Professor Lockhart, huh?" Ethan sneered. He was about to say more when Professor Sprout's voice cut him off.
The professor stood behind a bench in the middle of the greenhouse, looking over the seated Slytherins and Ravenclaws.
"Today we'll be repotting Mandrakes. Can anyone tell me what makes them distinctive?"
Before Ethan could raise his hand to earn points for Slytherin, several Ravenclaws had already shot theirs up, eager to show off their knowledge.
"Miss Patil." The professor pointed to one of them.
A dark-haired girl of Indian descent stood up. "Mandrakes, also called Mandrake roots, are a powerful restorative used to return transfigured or cursed people to their original state."
"Very good. Ten points to Ravenclaw." Professor Sprout looked pleased.
"Mandrakes have extremely potent restorative properties and are a key ingredient in most antidotes.
"However, very few greenhouses in the world can cultivate Mandrakes because they are extremely dangerous. So, does anyone know what exactly makes them so hazardous?"
Professor Sprout was being generous, handing out ten points at a time. The Slytherins were immediately unable to sit still.
The little snakes who knew the answer immediately raised their arms, hoping the professor would call on them.
"You then, Mr. Malfoy." The professor glanced at Ethan and called on Draco beside him.
"A Mandrake's cry is fatal." Draco had learned this well since he started studying potions with Ethan.
"Completely correct, ten points to Slytherin."
The professor pointed to the Mandrakes before them. "These Mandrakes are still very young. Hearing their cries won't kill you, but it will knock you out for several hours.
"So, I trust everyone will obediently put on their earmuffs. You don't want to miss the rest of the class, do you?"
Seeing everyone nod, the professor continued. "Now I'll demonstrate. Put on your earmuffs first."
The fuzzy earmuffs on the bench were snatched up in an instant. After all, no boy wanted to get stuck with the pink pair.
"All right, everyone, follow my instructions. I'll raise my finger when you can take off the earmuffs." Once everyone had put on their earmuffs, Professor Sprout forcefully pulled a Mandrake from the pot before her.
A scrawny, light-green, hideously ugly baby emerged with the leaves.
The professor calmly took out a large pot, stuffed the ugly baby inside, and buried it in fertilizer, leaving only the leaves exposed.
Patting the dirt from her hands, the professor raised her finger.
"Four to a pot. Keep your earmuffs on while working. I'll tell you individually when you can take them off."
Ethan, Draco, and the other three grabbed the leaves and heaved, spending considerable effort to pull the Mandrake from the soil.
The ugly baby opened its small mouth and screamed loudly, revealing its pointed teeth.
Ethan quickly threw it into the pot. Draco hurriedly poured in compost, while Crabbe and Goyle added fertilizer from other sides.
They had quite a difficult time getting just one Mandrake properly settled.
After a while, once everyone had had a turn, the professor walked over and motioned for them to remove their earmuffs, indicating they could relax.
Taking off his sweat-stained earmuffs, Ethan looked at the dense leaves before him, quietly opened his bag, took out a small knife, and cut two leaves.
"What are you doing?" Crabbe and Goyle hadn't noticed, but Draco had been paying attention and asked curiously.
Ethan placed a finger to his lips, lowering his voice. "Mandrake leaves have a special use. While I have the chance, I'm getting a few to keep on hand."
"Oh, alright." Draco didn't press for details. Instead, he took the opportunity to tear off two leaves himself before the other nearby Slytherin students noticed.
Ethan gave him an approving look and quickly cut another leaf.
By the end of the class, he had collected four fresh leaves from different Mandrakes.
Leaving the greenhouse, they returned to the dormitory to shower, washing off the dirt and sweat from repotting the Mandrakes.
When Ethan returned to the dormitory, refreshed and ready to pack his textbooks, he heard Draco shouting as he came back from somewhere.
"I was sitting in the common room after my shower, and I heard that while we were in Herbology, the Gryffindors had a complete disaster in Defense Against the Dark Arts.
"That Professor Lockhart, who claims he can subdue werewolves, couldn't even handle a bunch of Cornish pixies. He let those eight-inch-tall pests wreak havoc all over the classroom."
"What are Cornish pixies?" Goyle asked, chewing on a candy Ethan had given him.
"A type of magical creature from Cornwall, England. They're iron-blue all over, only eight inches tall, with pointed faces. They love pranks and have very shrill cries.
"Even though they don't have wings, they can fly. They grab unsuspecting people by the ears, lift them up, and throw them onto treetops and rooftops."
Ethan answered casually.
"Right, and I heard they tore up those Gryffindors' supplies and everything else, and hung one unlucky guy from the chandelier," Draco added.
Goyle touched his own ears. "That won't happen to us, right?"
"Don't worry, with me here, that definitely won't happen!" Draco stole a glance at Ethan. Seeing no reaction, he let out a quiet sigh of relief.
His roommate was stronger than him in both knowledge and strength. Fortunately, he didn't seem interested in forming his own clique.
"Let's go, it's time for Transfiguration." After Crabbe returned from the bathroom, Ethan called for everyone to head out.
When afternoon classes ended, he went to the owlery and tied the letter he'd written to Cyril to Edward's foot, then watched it fly off toward London.
"You mean the one hanging from the chandelier was Neville?" That evening, Ethan was doing his homework in the library when he overheard Harry and Ron discussing that afternoon's Defense Against the Dark Arts class. He interjected.
Ron spoke in a low voice, full of resentment, about what had happened that afternoon. "It was Neville. His robe got caught on the chandelier, and he pulled it down with him. He hit the ground hard."
After class, Lockhart had locked the three of them in the classroom to capture the Cornish pixies while he fled.
In the end, Seamus and Dean had to help Neville limp to the hospital wing.
Harry leaned forward from his seat diagonally across from Ethan.
"Before we came to the library, we stopped by the hospital wing to see Neville. His injuries weren't serious, but the fall had reminded him of falling off his broom last year, and he was shaken.
"When we got there, Madam Pomfrey had already given him the Draught of Living Death. He'd fallen asleep, but his body still twitched occasionally, his hands and feet jerking."
"I'll go see him later," Ethan said. He felt Neville was truly tragic, getting injured every time.
Seeing Ethan return to his homework, Harry and the others leaned their heads together, continuing to condemn the unreliable Lockhart.
"Shut up!" Hermione hissed, cutting them off.
Hermione had a favorable impression of the professor, who had written many books. The stories were so wonderful that she firmly believed his behavior was meant to give them practical experience.
They had already argued about it once that afternoon. Now, hearing their words, Hermione argued back.
"He writes so well in his books, so realistically, and you still doubt his genuine talent? Think about last year when you suspected Professor Snape would steal the Sorcerer's Stone!"
Ron muttered, "How is that the same? I admit Snape isn't a nice person, but he's a really good teacher. Lockhart's performance wasn't even as good as Quirrell's when he was pretending. At least Quirrell didn't cause such a big mess in class."
Harry was startled. He looked around and lowered his voice further. "Huh? Professor Quirrell? Are you saying Lockhart could also be... you know...?"
Ethan was the only one present who had seen Voldemort with his own eyes, but after he'd told the other two the whole story, they knew that Voldemort had possessed Quirrell too.
"It can't be, can it?" Hermione and Ron were both frightened by the suggestion.
"It isn't. There's nothing worth stealing in the school this year. Besides, Lockhart isn't acting secretive at all, so that's not it," Ethan quickly interrupted their speculation.
"Right." They all breathed a sigh of relief.
After this scare, they stopped talking and focused on their homework.
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4.Harry Potter: Reborn as Draco Black = CHAPTER 112
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