Chapter 38: Norwegian Ridgeback, Midnight Duel

Sharl recalled something from the original story—Hagrid's long-standing obsession with dragons.

It was precisely because of this obsession that the two-faced man, who had been hindered by the three-headed dog for quite some time, was able to get his hands on a dragon egg. With it, he tricked Hagrid into revealing how to get past the creature. Afterward, Hagrid carefully nurtured the egg, eventually hatching a Norwegian Ridgeback named Norbert.

But as Norbert grew too rapidly in size, Hagrid was forced to give him up. Eventually, Norbert was handed over to Charlie Weasley, who arranged for the young dragon to be sent to a sanctuary in Romania.

Remembering this part of the story, Sharl's furrowed brow gradually relaxed. Although knowing this didn't guarantee he could successfully extract blood from Norbert to cultivate Blood Jade, it was still far more feasible than attempting to capture an adult dragon.

Blood Jade offered significant advantages for Sharl. If there were a way to obtain it, naturally, he was unwilling to abandon the opportunity. But very quickly, Sharl's expression returned to a calm state.

There was still a long time before Hagrid would receive the dragon egg. Let alone hatching it.

Worrying about the future now was pointless.

"A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush," he reminded himself.

What truly mattered was focusing on cultivating the magical herbs currently in his possession. Otherwise, instead of making progress on Blood Jade, he might end up neglecting the herbs he had already worked hard to grow.

With that thought, Sharl returned to tending the field.

Though the Glow-in-the-dark Mushrooms had already absorbed ample Lumos charm light for the day, loosening the soil and pruning were daily tasks that couldn't be skipped.

Loosening the soil kept it breathable and airy, ensuring the mycelium of the Glow-in-the-dark Mushrooms could continue to breathe efficiently. Pruning removed irregular or overgrown parts of the fungus, redirecting nutrients to support healthier growth.

These mundane and seemingly insignificant actions, when carried out over time, contributed to a qualitative leap in the plants' development.

Often, the difference between "excellent" and "perfect" came down to these very details.

Sharl methodically employed both the Loosening Charm and Pruning Charm as he worked in the field. Every movement was practiced, controlled, and attentive.

From a short distance away, Professor Sprout silently observed him.

Her appreciation deepened with every passing moment.

As a true expert in Herbology, she fully understood how rare such diligence and discipline were in a student. Quietly, and without interrupting him, Professor Sprout turned and left the greenhouse.

While passing through the castle hallway where the House Cup hourglasses stood, her good mood became even better.

Hufflepuff was still in the lead!

"Merlin's beard," she murmured, "how many years has it been since I last saw this?"

At that moment, a dark figure with greasy hair and a cloak billowing like bat wings brushed past her.

Snape glanced at Professor Sprout's satisfied expression.

He paused, then gave her a stiff, reluctant nod before hastening his steps and disappearing into a side corridor.

Professor Sprout merely smiled wider.

She began humming a soft, unknown tune as she walked away with a spring in her step.

But behind her, Snape's face had darkened further.

He clenched his fists in frustration.

For the past seven consecutive years, Slytherin had dominated the House Cup under his watch. And now? Now Hufflepuff was leading?

This year's Slytherin students had truly let him down.

With his robes billowing, Snape headed swiftly toward his office.

He still needed to brew a particularly troublesome potion—for the Lumos Charm test that his dunderheaded students would soon take.

"I can only hope," he muttered bitterly, "that while I'm brewing this potion, those imbeciles are at least practicing the Lumos Charm like I told them—not running off to do something idiotic again."

Meanwhile...

Deep in the Slytherin common room, a group of first-year students groaned in exhaustion.

They had been practicing spells for hours.

It was dull. Repetitive. Frustrating.

Their arms ached.

Draco Malfoy looked especially pale.

His skin still bore faint signs of healing from the Troll Mallow Flower incident. The boils had only just faded. Whenever sweat trickled down and touched the sensitive areas, the itching and pain surged again.

He grimaced.

Unpleasant memories flooded his mind—particularly the humiliating image of himself soaked in troll flower juice.

Malfoy shivered, violently shook his head, and shoved the memory away.

A new look appeared in his eyes: frustration turned into cold calculation.

Abruptly, Malfoy lowered his wand.

"This is stupid," he declared.

"We're wasting our time."

The other students paused.

"Practicing like this for days on end? Do we really plan to spend our next two weeks of free time just waving wands in the dark like idiots?"

He glanced around.

"If we really want to lead in the House Cup, there has to be a smarter way."

That got their attention.

Most Slytherins weren't particularly fond of tedious, repetitive work. Discipline wasn't their core virtue. They preferred cunning, clever shortcuts.

"What are you saying, Draco?" one asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You're not thinking of putting someone in the hospital wing again, are you?"

Malfoy's face instantly turned red.

"Shut up!"

He exhaled, then continued in a calm and confident voice.

"I've got a better idea. One that doesn't involve risk. One that could help us overtake those Hufflepuff tree-huggers without even leaving the common room."

The curiosity in the room peaked.

"Most people think that to win the House Cup, you need to gain points. But that's the hard way. Gaining points takes effort."

"So why not do the opposite?"

"If we can't rise higher ourselves, we drag the others down."

A few students gasped.

"Think about it," Malfoy continued. "If we make the other Houses lose points, it's practically the same as us gaining them."

The idea was… oddly brilliant.

Slytherin-esque.

"So what's the plan?" someone asked.

Malfoy's expression turned smug.

"Simple."

"We send out midnight duel challenges to the students we want to sabotage."

"Pick someone like Harry Potter—he's bound to show up. He'll probably drag that red-haired Weasley with him too."

"Then we tip off Filch."

"When Filch catches them sneaking out at night, their Houses will lose a ton of points!"

He grinned wickedly.

"And that's not all."

"We can challenge Sharl Sprout too."

"Hufflepuffs are famous for their blind loyalty. If we provoke one, the others might come running to back them up. They'll get caught together."

"Just imagine it—Sharl, standing in front of an empty House Cup hourglass, watching all their points gone."

He practically vibrated with satisfaction at the thought.

The students began nodding. It was cunning, indirect—and most of all, safe.

Still, someone voiced a concern.

"But what if they don't come?"

"That Sharl guy seems more interested in dirt and mushrooms than dueling."

Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"Just write the challenge with the right tone."

"Use words that are direct. Personal. Insulting."

"No one can resist rising to that kind of bait."

"Especially at our age—who doesn't want the glory of winning a duel?"

He spoke with certainty.

"Sharl won't resist."

"He'll definitely come."

[Chapter End]

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