HP: The Boy who Planted

After Hermione's calm explanation, the little badgers in the common room finally breathed a collective sigh of relief.

"Really, both Weasley twins are such big liars," one muttered.

"They're always trying to scare us, even now!"

"Thank goodness Hermione told us the truth. Does that mean we're safe now?"

The badgers, still a bit shaken, settled back down, comforted by Hermione's logic and knowledge.

Only Char reacted differently. It was as if he'd been wound up on a spring—he shot up from the sofa, his face suddenly tense. Without a word, he snatched up his wand and grabbed his Quidditch bat, striding purposefully toward the common room exit.

Hermione and the other badgers stared after him in shock.

"Char? There's a giant monster out there, it's dangerous!" Hermione called. "What are you doing?"

Char gritted his teeth, his mind racing. He truly hated getting involved in trouble—he'd always preferred to avoid unnecessary risks. But there was one thing he couldn't tolerate: the threat to his precious magical plants.

"My dish!" he muttered under his breath.

Without another word, Char disappeared from sight, determination burning in his eyes.

His thoughts whirled as he ran. He remembered that, in the original story, Quirrell had burst into the Great Hall, screaming that a troll was in the dungeons. But in reality, Quirrell was misleading everyone—he wanted to buy time to reach the Philosopher's Stone. The actual troll incident happened on the first floor, near the girls' bathroom.

Char's heart pounded. The first-floor staircase was confusing, and nearly half of this batch of goldfish spider plants was growing there. If the troll got to them…

Just imagining the loss made Char's grip tighten on his bat, the wood creaking under the pressure. The floor tiles beneath his feet cracked as he sprinted, moving like a tank toward the first floor.

The closer he got, the stronger the foul stench in the air—like a dozen filthy public toilets left to fester in the summer heat. Muddy, oversized footprints led straight to the staircase where Char's goldfish spider plants grew.

He ran faster.

When he arrived, the scene before him was like something out of a nightmare: a hulking, twelve-foot-tall troll, its skin gray and rough as granite, clutching a massive wooden club in one hand. In the other, it held a pot containing a fully mature, orange-leafed goldfish spider plant.

Char's heart twisted. He drew a deep breath and shouted, "Let go!"

But the troll, of course, didn't understand a word. Worse, the goldfish spider plant's magical scent was irresistible to it. With a single gulp, the troll swallowed the entire flowerpot—soil, plant, and all. It even smacked its lips, unimpressed, and reached for another pot, this one with a few green leaves left.

Char's eyes widened in horror. Nearly a third of his goldfish spider plants on the first floor had already vanished. He could imagine all too well where they'd gone.

For a moment, Char's world collapsed. He gripped his bat so hard that veins bulged on his arms. "I'm just a little badger who doesn't bother anyone," he muttered. "I just want to grow some vegetables. Why are you hurting my goldfish spider plant?"

His mind flashed back to his previous life, to the time a neighbor had picked fruit from his experimental field. "Young man, why are the oranges so sour? This isn't working. Listen to Auntie—plant tangerines. Why are you so angry? I'll give you five dollars a pound as compensation. You've made a profit, young man…"

The memory only fueled his fury.

In that instant, something clicked inside him. He finally understood what had changed in his Pruning Spell after its promotion to gold level, influenced by the Divine Edge Spell. Driven by anger, Char raised his wand and roared, "Arbor-Siccus!"

Invisible magic shot out. Cracks appeared on the troll's thick wooden club, which began to shake and splinter. From the cracks, clusters of thorns erupted, spreading up toward the troll's hand. The troll yelped as the thorns pricked its palm—its skin was tough, but not invulnerable. Startled, it dropped the club with a heavy thud.

Char's eyes narrowed. At last, he understood the mysterious new property of his gold-level Pruning Spell: when fueled by anger, it could cause thorns to grow from pruned objects, turning them into weapons.

He should have felt triumphant, but all he could see were the missing pots of goldfish spider plants. He kept casting, his voice tight with emotion.

"Arbor-Siccus! Arbor-Siccus!"

Waves of magic burst forth, slicing the troll's club into pieces. Each fragment sprouted thorns, tangling around the troll's feet and making it stumble backward in confusion.

As the troll staggered, distracted by the thorns, Char charged. He swung his bat—now pulsing with legendary power—at the troll's thick leg. The troll, thinking little of the small wizard, barely reacted.

But the impact was like being hit by a truck. The troll's leg buckled, and it crashed to the ground.

Char didn't stop. He gritted his teeth and rained blow after blow on the troll.

"I'll let you eat! I'll let you eat! You can do anything, but why eat my food?!"

The bat was a blur, each swing fueled by outrage and heartbreak. The troll, overwhelmed, curled up on the floor, covering its head, its little mind finally learning a lesson: "Little wizard… eat some vegetables… violent… horrible!"

At that moment, a rush of footsteps thundered down the stairs. Professor Sprout, pale and frantic, was the first to arrive.

"Char!" she cried, her voice trembling with fear and relief. She rushed over and enveloped him in a tight hug. "Child! Merlin, I'm so glad you're okay. Let me see if you're hurt. Poor child, you must be frightened. Don't be afraid, don't be afraid. The troll will never hurt you again."

Behind her, Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, Snape, and others arrived, stopping in their tracks at the sight before them. The troll was battered and bruised, tears streaming from its small eyes, looking at the professors as if they were its last hope.

Professor Flitwick cleared his throat. "Pomona, I think Char is just fine."

Snape, after a moment of silence, nodded. "It seems the giant monster is the one in trouble. I may not be an expert in medical magic, but even I can see it has several broken bones."

Just then, the pot of goldfish spider plant the troll had been clutching rolled from its hand, drawing everyone's attention. The professors tensed.

"Careful!" Professor McGonagall warned. "The goldfish spider plant has a fatal attraction for trolls. Be careful, or it might attack again!"

But the troll, seeing the plant, whimpered and shrank away, mumbling, "No… being beaten!"

The professors exchanged glances, realization dawning. They eyed Char's bloodstained bat and the shattered floor tiles, then quietly took a few steps back.

At that moment, Char noticed something odd. The pot of goldfish spider plant, which had still had green leaves earlier, now had leaves that had turned completely red after being squeezed by the troll.

He stared at it, surprise and curiosity flickering in his eyes. What had just happened to his magical plant?