Since it was the first lesson for the new students, Professor Sprout didn’t have them engage in any practical work. Instead, she began with theoretical knowledge.
Professor Sprout was kind and patient—perhaps all Herbology professors at Hogwarts shared this trait. When Neville couldn’t answer a question, she gently encouraged him, helping him recall the material with soft words.
Seamus, however, was sneakily practicing Transfiguration during class. He managed to succeed once but then accidentally caused a potted Bubotuber to explode with his next spell. Fortunately, Harry reacted quickly, turning Seamus’s scarf into an umbrella to shield them from the splattering pus.
“Well done on that Transfiguration spell! Five points to Gryffindor!” Professor Sprout exclaimed. She then sternly scolded Seamus.
When Seamus looked downcast, Professor Sprout somehow produced a small cake and handed it to him.
Seamus solemnly promised her that he would never cause trouble in Herbology class again. Professor Sprout forgave him, but as a punishment, deducted one point from Gryffindor.
After class, Harry didn’t hurry to leave. Instead, he stayed back in the greenhouse.
“Mr. Potter?” Professor Sprout noticed him lingering. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Well, Professor,” Harry began, choosing his words carefully, “I read about Chinese Chomping Cabbage in a book, and I’m quite interested in it. I was wondering if you might have a mature specimen here.”
“Chinese Chomping Cabbage is a highly dangerous plant,” Professor Sprout said gently. She didn’t outright refuse Harry but added, “I don’t think a young wizard like you should cultivate such a perilous plant. However, seeing it in person might change your mind. Follow me.”
Ron and Neville exchanged glances and decided to tag along. Hermione joined them as well.
Seamus, holding his cake, decided to head back. He felt a little embarrassed facing Professor Sprout again after having blown up a Bubotuber.
The four students followed Professor Sprout to the second floor of the greenhouse. They passed through some trees and stopped at a workbench.
On the bench were six Chomping Cabbages with wide mouths and writhing bodies.
“Here they are,” Professor Sprout introduced. “The Chomping Cabbages in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi don’t do them justice—they’re far more intimidating in reality.”
She picked up a stick and placed it near one of the cabbages.
The cabbage twisted its plump body and snapped onto the stick with a crunch, biting it cleanly in half.
“Such a violent temperament,” Hermione said, frowning. “Harry, I really don’t think this is something we should try to grow—”
Before she could finish, Harry extended his wand and tapped the cabbage on its back. Then he reached out and touched it with his hand.
“Harry!” Hermione and Ron shouted together. “Take your hand back now!”
But to their surprise, the cabbage rubbed against Harry’s hand like a puppy.
“I think it’s actually quite friendly,” Harry said, raising an eyebrow. “Want to try?”
Ron looked tempted and reached out cautiously, but the cabbage turned toward him and gave a menacing grin.
“On second thought, I’ll pass,” Ron said, quickly withdrawing his hand.
Harry patted the cabbage’s body, thinking of “Spicy Exploding Cabbage” dish he had tasted before.
“Fascinating,” Professor Sprout said, as if she had discovered a new continent. “It’s amazing that a young wizard like you understands plants so well. If this were during class, I’d definitely award Gryffindor five points.”
Finally, she added, “If you like it so much, I can give you a smaller one that’s less dangerous—but promise me you won’t throw it at your classmates. Understand?”
“Thank you, Professor. I promise I won’t,” Harry replied obediently.
Looking into Harry’s green eyes, Professor Sprout smiled softly.
This child…he’s so much like Lily.
Harry left the greenhouse, satisfied, with a small Chomping Cabbage in hand. Hermione watched him with concern, while Ron muttered, “I hope it doesn’t bite Scabbers.” He decided that both he and his pet would keep their distance from the cabbage.
Neville, on the other hand, took a keen interest in the plant. He frequently fertilized and watered it, asking Harry about Herbology whenever he had questions. Harry patiently answered every one of them, feeling no need to withhold information from his roommate.
When it came to Hogwarts classes, none felt more familiar to Harry than Professor Binns’s History of Magic.
Professor Binns was a ghost. The story went that he had fallen asleep by the staffroom fireplace one evening and then, the next morning, went to class, leaving his body behind.
In class, Professor Binns spoke in a monotone, droning endlessly. Harry couldn’t help but feel drowsy.
It was so familiar. So nostalgic.
Harry’s eyes grew misty.
Charms class, taught by the diminutive Professor Flitwick, was another highlight. He had to stand on a stack of books to see over the podium. During the first lesson, when he called Harry’s name, he was so excited that he toppled backward out of sight.
In the first lesson, they learned the Lumos charm. Most students managed to cast it successfully, but Harry’s wand lit up like a searchlight, earning Gryffindor another five points from a delighted Professor Flitwick.
The real disappointment for Harry was Defense Against the Dark Arts.
In fact, the entire class found it disheartening. Professor Quirrell stammered his way through lessons, telling awkward stories of his supposed adventures. To make matters worse, the classroom reeked of garlic.
According to Quirrell, the garlic was to ward off vampires. But the students suggested silver might work better.
To divert the conversation, Quirrell taught them a small jinx—Leg-Locker Curse.
The spell captured the students’ attention, sparing Quirrell further questions about the garlic smell. Everyone was eager to learn the curse.
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