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Chapter 80: If You Wake Up...
A silver crescent moon had risen in the velvet night sky, and the last stubborn trace of the setting sun's orange glow quietly faded behind the Scottish mountains.
Valentine's Day night had fallen over the grounds.
The ancient Castle loomed in the distance, resembling a sleeping giant dragon—solemn, mysterious, and unfathomable against the starlit backdrop.
The Little Wizards gathered inside Hagrid's stiflingly warm cabin for a private dinner party of their own. Tonight, the young Wizards had no system tasks to complete, no restrictive school rules to dodge, and no pureblood politics to navigate. There was only joyful laughter, the clinking of heavy wooden mugs, and the crackle of the hearth.
Regulus and his friends had used their wands to decorate Hagrid's yard and cabin anew. Magically conjured, velvet-soft red roses hung from the wooden rafters and crept up the nearby treetops. Sparkling ice lantern balls, tied with shimmering silk ribbons, dangled from the ceiling, casting a romantic, dreamy, and fractured light across the room.
After eating their fill of rock cakes and roasted sausages, Mary pulled a small set of bagpipes from her expanded pocket. She tuned the instrument with a quick breath and began to play her favorite Muggle tune. The sweet, reedy notes filled the cabin. The girls, wearing fresh red roses pinned to the chests of their robes, swayed and sang along in harmony:
"Let her make me a cambric shirt," "Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme," "Without any seam or needlework," "And she shall be my true love."
It was the classic ballad, 'Scarborough Fair'.
"That sounds a lot like the old Wizarding song 'The Elfin Knight'," Sirius suddenly said. He leaned back in his oversized chair, flashed a charming smile, and smoothly joined the melody, his rich voice singing the more ancient chorus:
"Sober and grave grows merry in time." "Every rose grows merry with time..."
Sirius's singing voice, much like his speaking voice, was unsurprisingly pleasant to listen to. The deep, resonant timbre carried over the bagpipes. It seemed the ridiculous rumor printed in the Quibbler claiming that "Sirius Black is a retired rock singer" wasn't entirely unfounded...
Regulus couldn't help but clap his hands to the beat, humming along.
Amidst the singing, Lily abruptly stood up. Her emerald eyes sparkled in the firelight.
"Let's go dance in the yard!"
The lively party spilled out from the stuffy cabin and into the crisp winter air.
Tonight's stars looked like rough, crushed diamonds scattered across a canvas of black ink overhead. The Castle windows flickered in the distance with warm candlelight, and owls hooted softly as they swept over the dark, frozen grass.
Regulus smiled, drawing his hawthorn wand. He joined his brother and the others in magically conjuring dozens of sparkling, colorful stars. These gem-like orbs were scattered everywhere, hanging from Hagrid's thatched rooftop, the uneven window frames, and the bare branches at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Their light reflected off the pristine snow like a white blanket, illuminating the entire yard in a wash of soft pastels.
Amidst this beautiful mix of real and fake starlight, Regulus pulled a polished acoustic guitar from his pocket. He settled onto a tree stump and strummed the steel strings, his clear voice ringing out:
"I, I, I..." "I know this is real," "These are all real –"
Remus stepped up beside Regulus, waved his wand to conjure a small leather hand drum, and began to beat a steady rhythm to match the music.
Under the jewel-like starlight, the girls sparkled like the moon, twirling and dancing to their hearts' content in the snow.
Everyone was led by Lily in a makeshift country dance—stepping forward, stepping back, bowing. Her cheeks were flushed pink from the cold, and her face beamed with a wide smile. She playfully spread her palms and invited Hagrid to dance. The half-Giant responded with awkward, booming laughter, trying his best not to step on her toes.
From his spot on the stump, Regulus saw his brother bow elegantly to Mary. As Sirius took her hand, Mary's face turned as red as a ripe cherry.
"Woof... woof~" Hagrid's boarhound, Fang, suddenly gave a soft, whining bark from the edge of the trees.
The music faded slightly as everyone turned. It turned out that a small herd of Unicorns from the Forbidden Forest had been attracted by the gentle music and the glowing lights. Their pure white coats glowed with a pearlescent, ethereal beauty in the night.
The girls gasped. Following Hagrid's hushed, careful guidance, they picked up clean sugar cubes and slowly approached the majestic creatures.
Regulus smiled, waving his wand in a sweeping arc. Suddenly, a fragrant shower of velvety rose petals rained down from the sky, drifting on the winter breeze.
Just then, Headmaster Dumbledore, who happened to be walking down the grounds looking for Hagrid, stepped into the illuminated yard. A few swirling red petals landed gently on his tall, crooked Wizard's hat.
He paused, taking in the lively party in Hagrid's small yard. As expected, his gaze found Regulus sitting among the twinkling conjured stars.
Regulus stopped playing, smiled broadly, and waved at the old man: "Happy Valentine's Day, Headmaster!" he shouted, his tone full of the unburdened vigor unique to young people.
"Ah! Headmaster, Happy Valentine's Day!" the other Little Wizards chimed in all at once, straightening up nervously. Lily boldly stepped forward and presented the Headmaster with a conjured red rose.
Among the myriad methods of manipulation in the world, pure sincerity is often the most moving.
Dumbledore gently pushed his half-moon spectacles up the bridge of his crooked nose. After a few silent seconds of observing the unity before him, he smiled kindly.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Little Wizards and witches."
He beckoned with a wizened hand, and Hagrid gestured for him to come inside the warm cabin.
Afterward, the Headmaster sat on a sturdy wooden chair by the open door, quietly listening to Regulus play the guitar for a while before smiling and getting up to leave.
As the old wizard turned away, Regulus noticed something—the Headmaster's piercing blue eyes were exceptionally bright in the firelight, so bright they seemed to be covered with a thin layer of mist...
The joyful party lasted late into the freezing night.
...
February 15th, Friday.
The clear winter sunlight brought a crisp, special vitality to the Scottish Highlands.
Regulus and Severus, wearing their matching silver and green scarves knitted by Mary, left the heavy oak doors of the Castle. They passed through the morning mist, walked by the shimmering, icy surface of the Black Lake, and headed towards the glass greenhouses behind the Castle with light, energetic steps.
Professor Sprout had always liked Regulus, admiring his Herbology skills, and she didn't mind him occasionally 'stealing some vegetables' for his potions. Severus, on the other hand, was Slughorn's capable assistant and often ran official errands to the greenhouses to fetch ingredients, making him a frequent and trusted visitor.
Outside, the snowdrifts were deep, but the interior of the second greenhouse was as warm as spring. The humid air was thick, heavily filled with the rich, earthy scent of damp soil and blooming magical plants. As soon as they stepped through the glass door, the alchemical filter bracelet hanging on Regulus's wrist began to emit a soft warning glow against the ambient spores.
"Good morning, Professor!" they greeted her in unison, offering polite smiles.
"Good morning, Regulus, Severus!" Professor Sprout, who was busy kneeling on the damp ground, looked up from her work. She wore her signature patched, floppy Wizard's hat, and a gentle, welcoming smile crinkled the corners of her kind face. Her voice was natural and cheerful over the hum of the magical flora.
She was currently tying pretty, brightly colored little scarves onto the shivering Mandrake plants sitting in their terracotta pots. Her fingernails still had dark soil packed beneath them, suggesting she had been working hard in the greenhouse for quite some time.
She tied the last heart-patterned little scarf onto a particularly grumpy Mandrake root and clapped her hands together, brushing off the dirt as she stood up.
"If you boys are going to handle the Mandrakes today, be sure to wear your protective dragon-hide gloves," the Professor reminded them, smiling warmly.
"Professor, why aren't you wearing them?" Severus asked, noticing her bare hands.
"Ah, I don't need to," Professor Sprout blinked playfully, a testament to her mastery over the deadly plants.
"Regulus, you sent a message saying you had a specific question for me?" Professor Sprout waved her wand in a small circle. A warm mist rose from the irrigation pipes in the greenhouse, making the broad Mandrake leaves tremble happily in the humidity.
"Yes, Professor," Regulus said, stepping closer to the workbench. "I've been studying spatial magic recently. If I want to transport live plants using spatial magic—like inside a box with an Undetectable Extension Charm—how can I ensure the plants aren't harmed by the dimensional shift?"
Professor Sprout's brown eyes lit up with genuine academic interest. She looked at the young Slytherin with full approval.
"You are truly a thoughtful child. Most people only care about the mechanics of the magic itself and rarely consider the wellbeing of these silent little fellows."
She smiled affectionately and reached down to pat a squeaking, restless little sapling beside her.
"Spatial transport is indeed a very delicate matter for living plants or animals. You're right on the Galleon—if the artificial environment involved in the spatial magic is not designed properly, it can severely affect the health of the plants."
She gestured for them to follow, leading Regulus and Severus deeper down the narrow dirt aisle of the greenhouse, passing rows of rare, pulsing magical plants.
"For example, the Whomping Willow is particularly sensitive to spatial contraction. If a powerful Calming Charm isn't applied beforehand, its main root is very likely to snap under the dimensional pressure during transport." Professor Sprout pointed to a dangerous-looking plant next to them that stood about four feet tall, its purple leaves shimmering. "Another example is Aconite. If it stays in an unstable, fluctuating magical space for too long, it will panic and release lethal toxins into the surrounding air."
Severus's steps paused slightly. His dark, calculating gaze quickly swept over the string of vibrant purple flowers resting at the top of the Aconite stalk.
"So how did you solve the transport problem, Professor?" Regulus pressed, pulling out a small notebook.
"The most basic method is known as 'microenvironment transplantation'."
She waved her wand, muttering a soft incantation. A fine, shimmering net of golden light bloomed from the tip and gently wrapped around a nearby Aconite plant, encapsulating the soil and the air around it.
"This specific spell can maintain the absolute stability of the plant's native microenvironment during transmission, essentially tricking the flora, making it 'think it's still in its original spot'. As for the duration of the spell's effect, that has a lot to do with the individual Wizard's own magical stamina and ability."
"So when transporting it," Severus said, his sharp mind connecting the dots, "you don't just throw the bare plant into the expanded box, but you must take the entire 'micro-ecosystem' around it along with it?"
"Clever boy!" Professor Sprout nodded with a bright smile. "It's exactly like preparing a customized, small travel greenhouse for the plant."
"More advanced, permanent magical spaces require the Wizard to construct a much grander, self-sustaining ecological environment. I once met Mr. Newton Scamander at an international academic conference," Professor Sprout continued, her tone filled with respect.
"His famous magical suitcase had no fewer than ten completely different habitats constructed within it, and both animals and plants could survive there for a long time."
"Of course, these complex environments require continuous and careful magical maintenance."
After delivering this long, detailed explanation, Professor Sprout tilted her head and asked curiously:
"Are you trying to transport any special plants, Regulus?"
"Not really anything special—" Regulus blinked, his face the picture of pure, innocent academic curiosity.
... ... ...
If you woke up one day and found yourself spawned as a guard in 'Assassin's Creed', what would be the very first thing you'd do?
Regulus's gamer answer: Cut down all the tall grass near the outpost.
What if you became an assassin?
Then, of course, sneak into the enemy base—and plant a whole patch of grass!
(∩_∩)
Devil's Snare would be a very good choice for that.
Hehe.