The next day, Charlie woke up early. He hadn't shown up in front of Ginny yesterday.
Normal people, good or bad, always have a logic to their actions, and when you interact with them, you can tell whether they pose a threat to you.
But psychopaths and lunatics are different; they might bite you for no reason at all.
One second they might be chatting amiably with you, the next they could have a mental breakdown.
Although Charlie wasn't afraid, getting entangled in such matters was disgusting enough, so the best approach was to minimize interaction with psychopathic lunatics.
After breakfast, Charlie walked towards the faculty table.
He planned to ask Professor Sprout about the habits of the Whomping Willow.
"Good morning, Professor Sprout," Charlie greeted politely.
Professor Sprout was spreading jam on her toast, and hearing the voice, she looked up, a surprised expression on her face.
"Charlie, what brings you here?"
"Professor, yesterday I saw that Whomping Willow damage a car."
"I'm very interested in it and would like to learn about its habits," Charlie said directly.
Professor Sprout's joy was evident.
This was the first time Charlie had actively inquired about Herbology knowledge.
As the Dean of Hufflepuff, she had a love-hate relationship with Charlie, this genius student.
She loved that Charlie was indeed clever, but hated that the boy wasn't serious about Herbology.
Professor Sprout excitedly put down her toast.
"After I finish eating, I'm going to treat the Whomping Willow; you can come with me."
Just then, Lockhart suddenly leaned over.
"Oh, the Whomping Willow?" Lockhart flashed his signature brilliant smile.
"When I was traveling in France, I once helped a Whomping Willow as well; I have a lot of experience with this."
Professor Sprout's smile instantly froze.
Lockhart was completely oblivious to the change in atmosphere and continued to babble:
"I can demonstrate for the Professor. Of course, I'm not saying my Herbology skills surpass the Professor's, it's just that I've encountered this situation during my travels."
Professor Sprout's face turned very unpleasant.
She gripped the dining knife in her hand, her knuckles turning white.
Charlie's mouth twitched.
This guy's emotional intelligence is truly negative. To tell a professional Professor that he has more experience, do you think you're Huang Xiaochu?
The surrounding Professors all ate their meals, ignoring Lockhart.
Professor Flitwick even rolled his eyes.
Charlie felt embarrassed for him, but Lockhart didn't seem to notice that everyone was annoyed with him and was still trying to chat with other Professors.
"Professor Flitwick, what do you think of my suggestion?"
Professor Flitwick didn't even lift his head:
"I think you should focus on your breakfast."
Lockhart's smile was a bit forced, but he still stubbornly turned to Snape.
"Severus, what do you think..."
"Shut up," Snape said coldly.
"Your rambling is even more boring than your books."
Lockhart's face instantly flushed red.
"Alright, alright, it seems everyone isn't in the mood for talking this morning."
Just as the atmosphere reached its most awkward point, Owls flew in.
A large flock of Owls flapped their wings, circling above the Great Hall.
Students eagerly held out their hands, awaiting their letters.
Charlie noticed that one Owl flew directly to the Gryffindor table.
It clutched a bright red envelope in its talons.
"Oh no," Professor Sprout's expression changed.
"It's a Howler."
She quickly pulled out her wand and cast a spell on herself and Charlie.
Instantly, the sounds from the students' side became muffled.
Charlie felt as if his ears were stuffed with cotton, and all the surrounding sounds became distant.
"This way we won't hear it," Professor Sprout explained.
"A Howler's sound can deafen a person."
The red Owl landed in front of Ron, dropped the red letter, and hastily flew away.
Ron looked at the red letter on the table, his face pale.
His hands trembled, and fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.
Harry, sitting beside him, was equally nervous.
"Open it quickly," Neville whispered.
"The longer you drag it out, the worse it gets."
"How do you know?"
"I'd rather not answer you."
Ron took a deep breath and tremblingly opened the envelope.
The envelope instantly opened its mouth, and Mrs. Molly's voice boomed like thunder.
Although Charlie couldn't make out the specific content, he could see Ron frantically covering his ears, his entire body trembling.
The surrounding students all covered their ears, their faces filled with agony.
The Howler lasted a full three minutes, finally turning into ashes and scattering.
The Great Hall was in dead silence.
Ron's face was as red as a tomato, wishing he could find a hole to crawl into.
Professor Sprout lifted the spell, and sounds became clear again.
"I hope he learns his lesson this time," she shook her head.
"Don't do such absurd things again."
Charlie nodded vigorously.
"Exactly, exactly, how could it be so absurd?"
"Let's go, we'll go look at the Whomping Willow," Professor Sprout stood up.
The two walked along the path outside the Castle and soon arrived in front of the injured Whomping Willow.
Professor Sprout stopped, frowning as she surveyed the scene before her.
"That's strange," she muttered, circling the Whomping Willow.
"Yesterday there were clearly many broken branches scattered on the ground, but now there isn't a single one?"
Charlie's expression remained unchanged; he pretended to have just noticed the problem.
"Could Professor Snape have taken them?" he said nonchalantly.
"I heard that Whomping Willow branches are very valuable Potion ingredients."
Professor Sprout nodded, accepting this answer.
"Severus indeed often needs these rare materials. Usually, only the two of us collect Whomping Willow branches."
As the two approached the Whomping Willow, it immediately reacted.
Its thick trunk began to sway, its remaining branches adopted an attacking posture, and its leaves rustled, as if threatening intruders.
Professor Sprout raised her wand, and a precise point of light emanated from its tip.
The light point accurately struck an inconspicuous small knot at the base of the trunk.
Instantly, the Whomping Willow quieted, its branches drooped, and the entire tree fell into a static state.
Professor Sprout pulled a roll of bandages from her pocket and stepped forward to bandage the Whomping Willow's broken areas.
"The Whomping Willow's magic is very special," she explained while bandaging.
"It repels all approaching external magic; this is its nature."
"This small knot is the Whomping Willow's weakness. Touching it interrupts the flow of magic within the tree, causing it to lose its sensory abilities."
Charlie observed the location of the knot, silently committing it to memory.
Charlie nodded thoughtfully.
"Then why are Whomping Willows so rare? Logically, such a powerful plant should be easy to propagate."
Professor Sprout sighed.
"It's precisely because of this characteristic," she shook her head.
"Whomping Willows are already on the verge of extinction, and their characteristic of repelling external magic means that many Potions containing Wizard magic cannot be used."
"Artificial cultivation is extremely difficult, with a success rate of less than one percent."
Charlie fell into contemplation.
Is it hard to get in? I don't believe it, I'm going to try to get in tonight.
Just then, a familiar voice came from behind them.
"Oh, my dear Professor Sprout!"
Lockhart, dressed in a bright green robe, strode over.
His hair gleamed in the sunlight, and his teeth were dazzlingly white.
"I've come to help!" He flashed his signature brilliant smile.
"As I mentioned in 'Wandering with Yetis,' I once treated an injured Whomping Willow in the mountains of France."
Professor Sprout's face instantly darkened.
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