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40.78% Hogwarts: Dyroth Grindelwald Rise From Nurmengard / Chapter 31: Professor Sprout

Bab 31: Professor Sprout

...

In a professor's dormitory...

"Master, I don't understand why you are so interested in Grindelwald," Quirrell muttered nervously. "His father—"

"It's not your place to question me!" A cold, venomous voice interrupted him, reverberating through Quirrell's mind.

Immediately, excruciating pain surged through his body, sending him crashing to the ground. He writhed in agony, scraping his fingers raw against the cold stone floor.

"Master, I beg your forgiveness! I was wrong, please—"

"Let today be the last time you question my orders," Voldemort's raspy voice hissed from the back of Quirrell's head, full of malice.

Quirrell's body quivered as he fought to stand, clutching the wall for support, his robes drenched in sweat. "When is the next Defense Against the Dark Arts class with him?" Voldemort asked sharply.

"Who?" Quirrell asked before realizing his mistake. His breath caught as pain once again gripped him.

"I... I understand, Master! Grindelwald's next class is the day after tomorrow!"

"The day after tomorrow... Prepare the potion. I will test his abilities myself. Do not fail me." Voldemort's voice was low and dangerous.

"Yes, Master! I will make the preparations," Quirrell said, trembling. His mind raced with plans to carry out Voldemort's orders, desperate to please his dark master.

...

Back in the Slytherin dormitory...

Dyroth was lying in bed, the sound of the system's prompt ringing in his mind.

[Ding! Achievement unlocked: "Night Walker.]

[Reward: 50 achievement points.]

"At least the achievement points make this trouble worthwhile," Dyroth muttered to himself. The memory of his near encounter with Voldemort sent a chill through him. The fact that Voldemort had used Legilimency was alarming. It showed how much stronger he was.

"I need to be more careful," Dyroth thought. "The days of easy-going Hogwarts life are over."

The encounter with Quirrell had put him on high alert. He knew now that Voldemort had taken an interest in him. His own magic power wasn't enough to handle such threats—not yet. He needed to grow stronger, fast. "I can't afford to be careless anymore."

With these thoughts swirling in his head, Dyroth formulated a plan to accelerate his growth before finally drifting off to sleep.

...

The next day...

Still feeling tired from last night, Dyroth dragged himself into the Great Hall. As soon as he sat down, he overheard students talking about the upcoming joint Herbology class. Due to the injuries from the previous day's Potions class, all four houses were scheduled to attend Herbology together.

Hermione practically skipped over to him, her excitement bubbling over. "Come on, Dyroth! It's our first class together!" she exclaimed, pulling him toward the greenhouses.

Inside the Herbology classroom, the earthy scent of soil and fertilizer hung thick in the air. Professor Sprout stood at the front, wearing her signature khaki robes and patched hat, smiling warmly at the students.

"Quiet down, everyone!" Professor Sprout called out. "I know you're excited about your first lesson together, but let's focus. Today, we will start with a special plant."

She wheeled out a large box from the corner of the classroom, and the students craned their necks to see. Inside, dark green vines writhed and swayed like living tendrils.

"Now, can anyone tell me what plant this is?" she asked.

Hermione's hand shot up instantly. "Miss Granger?" Professor Sprout nodded.

"It's a crab claw plant, Professor!"

"A crab claw, yes..." Professor Sprout smiled. "But can anyone else offer a different answer?" Her gaze fell on Dyroth, her eyes glinting with expectation. "Mr. Grindelwald?"

Dyroth studied the vines carefully, noting their long, dark tendrils and the way they seemed to recoil slightly from the sunlight streaming in through the window. "It looks like a crab claw plant, but..."

He walked to the window and pulled back the curtains, letting in more sunlight. Immediately, the tendrils recoiled, shrinking away from the light and curling tightly in the corner of the box. "No," Dyroth said confidently. "This is a devil's snare, disguised as a crab claw plant."

Professor Sprout beamed. "Excellent observation, Mr. Grindelwald! Five points to Slytherin!"

Hermione, standing beside him, looked momentarily deflated but quickly regained her composure. "Humph! You may have gotten this one, but I won't lose next time!" she huffed playfully, nudging him.

The class continued, with Professor Sprout explaining the dangers of devil's snare and how to deal with it. She praised Dyroth for his quick thinking and careful observation, using him as an example for the rest of the class.

Later, she moved on to the next plant. Hermione was quick to raise her hand before anyone else had the chance. "It's a bubotuber, Professor! The pus is useful for curing acne!"

"Excellent answer, Miss Granger! Five points to Ravenclaw!"

And so the lesson went on, with Hermione and Dyroth taking turns answering every question. By the end of the class, Professor Sprout couldn't help but chuckle. "If this were a test, both Miss Granger and Mr. Grindelwald would receive an Outstanding!" she said with admiration.

(Outstanding was one of the three passing grades, out of six grades overall, in the Ordinary Wizarding Levels, Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests, and Wizards' Ordinary Magic and Basic Aptitude Tests. It was the highest mark possible, immediately above 'Exceeds Expectations')

As the students packed up their things, Dyroth noticed Harry had barely paid attention throughout the lesson. He sighed quietly. "You could feed him everything, and he'd still refuse to chew,"

Dyroth thought. Without Hermione's help, Harry's future seemed more uncertain than ever.

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Bab 32: Magical Supplier

...

Hermione beamed with satisfaction after Professor Sprout's compliment. All the books she had memorized in the past few days were finally paying off. She looked at Dyroth with a proud glint in her eye.

Professor Sprout, having covered the basic knowledge, clapped her hands to regain the class's attention. "Now, I'm going to teach you how to handle its roots. Be careful! If the juice from these roots gets on your hands, it'll make you itch for days. Make sure you wear your gloves!"

After everyone followed her instructions, Professor Sprout handed each student a jumping root. "Well done, everyone. Now, gently pick up the base of the root. Be cautious—they're very sensitive and can spring out of your hand with the slightest pressure."

Dyroth, having dealt with many magical plants while grinding for achievements in the past, handled the root with ease. For Hermione, however, it was a different story. Despite her extensive reading, she had never had any practical experience handling such plants.

As soon as Hermione grasped the root, it started to jump violently in her hands. "Ah!" she shrieked, nearly tossing it away.

"Don't panic, Hermione. Relax," came Dyroth's calm voice from behind her. His words carried a certain calmness, helping her to regain composure.

"Yes, gently—like you're handling a small animal. Now, place it in the flowerpot and cover it with soil."

With trembling hands, Hermione managed to place the root in the pot and cover it with earth. She let out a relieved sigh.

"Thank you, Dyroth!" she said, her voice filled with gratitude.

"You're welcome," Dyroth replied casually.

Hermione gazed at him, her eyes sparkling with admiration. She snapped out of her daze after a moment, her expression turning somber.

"Dyroth, am I... am I stupid?" she asked, looking down.

"Because of what happened just now?" Dyroth asked. Hermione didn't deny it, simply lowering her head further.

Dyroth chuckled and met her eyes. "Hermione, everyone has something they're not good at. You can't let one small shortcoming overshadow all your strengths. Remember, you're a brilliant, wise Ravenclaw. When you face a problem, think about how to solve it, rather than worrying about it. Besides, this is your first time handling plants in a practical lesson—it's perfectly normal to struggle at first."

Dyroth's words clearly worked, as Hermione's disappointment faded and she smiled again.

"I understand, Dyroth!" she said brightly.

"Good, wise Ravenclaw witch," Dyroth grinned.

...

After Herbology, Hermione and the Patil twins invited Dyroth to the library, but he politely declined. He had other plans for the evening—namely, preparing for his meeting with Hagrid. Dyroth thought it best to speak with him ahead of time, especially with all the dangerous magical creatures lurking in the Forbidden Forest. Werewolves, hippogriffs, and Hagrid's secret pet, Aragog—the danger level of that acromantula was on par with a dragon!

Dyroth didn't trust Hagrid's easygoing nature to keep him safe with just a word, so he made his way to the half-giant's hut. Outside, Hagrid was mixing something in a giant barrel. To Dyroth, the barrel looked no different from a washbasin in Hagrid's massive hands.

Seeing Dyroth approach, Hagrid set his tools down and greeted him cheerfully. "Dyroth, there yeh are! Come in, come in. Don't worry about tonight's detention, I'll take good care of yeh."

"Thanks, Hagrid. That's a relief to hear," Dyroth replied, following him inside.

The interior of Hagrid's hut surprised Dyroth. A blanket made from unicorn fur, holly wood chairs, and a collection of rare materials—unicorn horns, broken Bowtruckle branches, and various magical creature parts—were piled up haphazardly like rubbish. It was like Hagrid was guarding a treasure trove!

Noticing Dyroth's stare, Hagrid misinterpreted it. "I'm sorry 'bout the mess," he said, scratching his head sheepishly. "Not many people visit me here, so it's a bit chaotic."

Dyroth shook his head. "You misunderstood, Hagrid. I'm just amazed by all the magical materials you've gathered."

"Oh, these?" Hagrid shrugged. "I pick 'em up when I patrol the Forbidden Forest. Been collectin' 'em for years. If yeh want any of 'em, just say the word!"

To Hagrid, these materials were common, but Dyroth knew their real value. "Thanks, Hagrid. That's generous of you," Dyroth said as he took a seat.

Hagrid happily offered his signature rock cakes, placing them on the table. "Here, have a rock cake! I made 'em meself. Bet you'll love 'em!"

Dyroth attempted to pick one up, but it slipped from his hand and hit the plate. With a loud crack, the plate shattered, but the rock cake remained intact, making a metallic clang. Dyroth couldn't help but wonder if the issue was liking the cakes—or being able to bite into them at all!

Quickly shifting the conversation, Dyroth eyed the magical animal materials scattered around the hut and asked, "By the way, Hagrid, what do you usually do with the materials you bring back from the Forbidden Forest?"

Hagrid's face grew sour. "Sometimes I keep 'em, but mostly I sell 'em in Diagon Alley. Trouble is, those pureblood merchants are all a bunch o' vampires. They offer me nothin' but lowball prices."

Dyroth's eyes brightened with an idea. "Hagrid, how about this? From now on, I'll buy any materials you don't need—at market price."

Hagrid's reaction was immediate. He hugged Dyroth tightly. "Dyroth, you're a lifesaver! Yeh don't know how much they've been rippin' me off! Not even offerin' me half the value."

"Don't worry, Hagrid. I'll give you fair prices, and I promise not to lower them on purpose. We're friends, after all," Dyroth assured him with a smile, all the while knowing just how valuable Hagrid's materials were. Even at market price, the items were worth a fortune.

After sorting out the details, Hagrid insisted on Dyroth staying for lunch, and later in the afternoon, Dyroth spent time studying in the library with Hermione. As night fell, Dyroth had a quick bite in the Great Hall before heading to Filch's office for detention.

Upon arriving, he found the office unlocked, with no one there except Mrs. Norris, Filch's infamous cat, lounging on the desk.

"Filch really doesn't know how to care for a cat," Dyroth muttered to himself. "She's all skin and bones, and her fur's a mess."

Taking out a piece of fried fish he had brought from the hall, Dyroth placed it in front of Mrs. Norris. "Hello again, Mrs. Norris."

Mrs. Norris eyed the fish warily before cautiously picking it up. Meanwhile, Dyroth used a bit of magic to clean the dirt from her fur, gently stroking her back.

Just as Mrs. Norris began to relax and enjoy her meal, an angry voice echoed from down the hall.

"Get away from my Mrs. Norris! What've you done to her?!" came Filch's furious shout.

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