Chapter 17 – College Life, Talent

During the banquet, the other long house tables were particularly lively.

The Ravenclaws—the little eagles—were deep in discussion about what books they liked to read and what magical fields interested them. The Slytherins, in contrast, were busy setting their own rules. In the strictly hierarchical Slytherin House, ranks had already been divided based on bloodline and family background from the moment of enrollment. Purebloods raised in the wizarding world had long been taught to understand and adhere to this unspoken structure.

But for those "little snakes" who previously hadn't been able to squeeze into that elite circle, the older students made sure to reiterate the rules clearly.

Over at the Gryffindor table, the lions were chatting about everything under the sun. Harry was talking about his family life with Neville, Ron, and others. Hermione, meanwhile, was having a focused discussion with the prefect Percy about how to master Transfiguration.

That lively atmosphere belonged to them.

As for the Hufflepuff table—there was silence. The little badgers were single-mindedly focused on stuffing themselves with food. Only the older students occasionally broke the silence to instruct the freshmen.

"Don't eat too much, don't eat too much."

"Our Hufflepuff House has its own little kitchen."

"No matter the time, you can always find something delicious to eat in Hufflepuff. Much better than this banquet food."

"Save some room—there'll be a late-night snack when we get back!"

The first-years were so moved by these words they were nearly in tears. Life was too comfortable. All they could think about was that promised late-night snack.

So much so that when Dumbledore gave his traditional post-banquet warnings—no wandering into the Forbidden Forest, no entering the fourth-floor corridor—the badgers didn't even register it.

Not that they would've considered going on an adventure anyway. Why risk life and limb? Wasn't it better to stay warm in the common room, sipping tea by the fire and enjoying a snack?

Going out at night? What a waste of time.

Might as well eat a few more bites.

Sharl found himself becoming increasingly satisfied with being sorted into Hufflepuff.

If he had been in Gryffindor or Slytherin, his desire to plant trees would have made him an oddball—possibly even a target. But in Hufflepuff, where everyone enjoyed staying in, hobbies like gardening, tea ceremonies, and baking were seen as completely normal. You could pursue any quiet, cozy interest without question.

Sharl planting trees inside Hufflepuff? Totally acceptable. No one would bat an eye.

Finally, the long Sorting Ceremony concluded with the traditional school song, and the prefects led the freshmen to their respective dormitories.

Except Hufflepuff.

As promised, a second feast awaited them in the common room.

After being thoroughly stuffed to the point they could eat no more, the new students stumbled into their dorms, flopped into soft beds, and fell asleep instantly.

Life in Hufflepuff was just that comfortable: the best small kitchen, the most luxurious beds, the happiest atmosphere. Truly the most united house at Hogwarts.

At that moment, Sharl sat on the bed in his dormitory, feeling dazed. It all seemed a bit surreal.

Had Hogwarts life really started just like that?

Taking a deep breath, Sharl stood up.

"It still doesn't feel real."

"Let's plant a few pots of flowers to calm down."

[You have successfully planted a Goldfish Plant]

[You have successfully planted a Goldfish Plant]

[...]

As line after line of system prompts appeared over the flower pots, Sharl's thoughts gradually cleared.

Being sorted into Hufflepuff meant he could avoid many of the conflicts found in the original story—like the constant friction between Gryffindor and Slytherin, or the secret struggle between Dumbledore and Voldemort.

But he knew... one day, the great war of the original plot would break out.

By then, even Hufflepuff wouldn't be spared.

And more importantly—

A cold glint flashed in Sharl's eyes.

In a few years, the Death Eater Antonin Dolohov might escape from prison.

Sharl could ignore other things. But Dolohov must die.

With Sharl's current level of magical talent, killing Dolohov would be nearly impossible. Even elite Aurors struggled to face him.

But with the help of the Planting System...

It might not be impossible.

"I need to plant as many magical trees and plants as possible."

"Especially rare ones that grant high-value rewards."

"And to plant high-difficulty magical plants, I need a strong Magic Perception attribute."

The Goldfish Plant is crucial.

Sharl mentally tallied up the number of Goldfish Plants he had distributed.

"So far, twenty-two pots have been given out—to Neville and the other Hufflepuff badgers."

He opened a small bag of remaining Goldfish Plant seeds—eighteen left.

"Planting the rest should be enough."

"I'll place them on Hogwarts' confusing staircases."

"Every time someone forgets which staircase to take, the Goldfish Plants will absorb some nutrients from their confusion—[Obliviation]."

Getting more seeds from his aunt was possible, but Hogwarts only had so many students. The total amount of [Obliviation] they could provide was limited. Without enough, the Goldfish Plants would be difficult to maintain and wouldn't grow to their full potential.

Better to stick to these.

With forty pots in total and sufficient nourishment, they would mature quickly.

That would be enough.

Five days passed in the blink of an eye since the Sorting Ceremony.

During that time, the new first-years gradually began to adapt to Hogwarts life.

Some sharp-minded students were already showing potential.

For example, Hermione Granger—just as in the original story—displayed remarkable talent. Her performance in Transfiguration even drew a rare smile from Professor McGonagall.

Ravenclaw students also impressed with their skill in Charms class.

Overall, the talent gap was already starting to show, even in the first week.

Most Hogwarts professors—apart from a few less competent ones—were truly skilled. They quickly developed a clear sense of the young wizards' aptitudes.

During Friday's breakfast, a hushed conversation buzzed among the staff.

"What do you think of this year's intake?"

"Hermione Granger shows excellent promise. Aside from her slightly low magical power, she has almost no weaknesses."

"And Harry Potter?"

"Average in Astronomy—he lacks the patience to study the stars. His Transfiguration and Charms need more polishing. But his raw magical power is impressive. He'll be able to learn powerful spells earlier than others."

"Gryffindor has Potions today. Lily was extremely talented at Potions, so maybe Harry has inherited that."

As they discussed the students, the conversation inevitably turned more serious.

"Neville Longbottom… poor boy. Always so careless."

"Well, we can't blame him too much."

"We all know he was once hit with an Obliviation Charm to forget something painful."

"Maybe in a few years, he'll reveal his true potential."

"And Seamus Finnigan—watch out. That kid can make anything explode with magic."

Eventually, their talk turned to Sharl.

At this point, both Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick sighed regretfully.

"A very clever child."

"His comprehension is remarkable, and his focus is excellent."

"If only his magical talent were even just average—or even below average—he could've accomplished great things."

"But… it's such a pity."

At that moment, Professor Sprout approached the staff table, her expression blank. The other professors quickly changed the subject.

But Professor Sprout's hands were clenched tightly into fists. A look of quiet determination flickered in her eyes.

Unlike the others, she had observed Sharl most closely.

"I won't let his lack of talent hold him back."

"No matter what it takes, I'll gather the necessary ingredients."

"I will make the Talent Enhancement Potion for Sharl."

Her resolve had never been stronger.

Meanwhile, Sharl hadn't gone down for breakfast that day.

He didn't know about the professors' regrets or Professor Sprout's plan.

And even if he had, he wouldn't have cared.

His low magic power was only a temporary issue.

Once that batch of Marguerites in the Sprout family's greenhouse matured, the rewards would significantly improve his situation.

Only four more months.

Not that hard to endure.

All he had to do was stick to his routine.

What mattered most now was nurturing the Goldfish Plants.

Taking a deep breath, Sharl waited at one of the castle's twisting staircases.

Hogwarts had 142 staircases—some only appeared under special conditions, while others changed position at will.

Even upperclassmen often got lost.

And for new students? It was a guaranteed struggle.

The staircase Sharl stood beside was one of the most confusing—and the only direct route to the Potions classroom.

He waited quietly.

And soon, his target appeared.

Neville came rushing toward the stairs, panic etched on his face.

"I'm going to be late! I'm going to be late!"

"I heard being late to Potions is really bad!"

"Oh no—not this staircase again! Which way do I go?"

As Neville hesitated, Sharl's eyes lit up.

Floating just above Neville's pocket were three faint glowing clusters.

And above them—

[Your planted Goldfish Plant has matured]

[Reward available: Magic Perception slightly increased]

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