HP: Those Years Sleeping with the Half-Blood Prince

Over the next few days, Ian seemed to pay particular attention to the herb garden greenhouse and a small, abandoned herb garden behind the castle.

He even approached Professor Sprout and asked him a few questions about the basic ingredients for indoor-grown potions.

"Mr. Burke, the first-year curriculum doesn't cover such specific cultivation practices yet... Are you particularly interested in herbalism?" Professor Sprout looked at him with some surprise.

"I guess so," Ian said vaguely. "Potions class needs some materials, and I'm thinking... I'll try growing some myself."

Professor Sprout's eyes lit up. "Self-reliance! Very good, very good. Come with me, son."

……

A few days later, in the evening, Ian returned to his dormitory. Severus had just closed the book "Potions and Magical Elixirs" with its corners curled up and was about to change to another book when Ian, carrying a bulging cloth bag, plopped down opposite him.

"Here." Ian pushed the cloth bag over.

Severus paused, staring at the mysterious package, then looked up, his dark eyes filled with questions.

"A gift of gratitude." Ian pointed to the old textbook in his hand. "I have no way to repay the life-saving grace of Potions class, so this is just a small token of my appreciation."

Severus didn't move, his voice flat: "I don't need it."

"You need it." Ian untied the knot and lifted a corner of the velvet.

Inside were several thick, brand-new glass bottles, sealed with corks, with labels written in neat handwriting: "Standard Soaked Slugs (Processed)", "Finely Ground Snake Tooth Powder", and "Uniformly Sliced ​​Slime".

There were also several small cloth bags nearby, vaguely revealing the shapes of dried plants.

At the bottom were several simple but evenly fired terracotta flowerpots, a small bag of potting soil, and several packets of seeds wrapped in kraft paper, each labeled with a name: peppermint, rue, and jumping root tuber.

Severus's gaze fell on those things and stopped.

He reached out and lightly brushed his fingertips across the smooth surface of a glass bottle, then touched the slightly rough edge of a terracotta flowerpot.

"I'm not..." he began, his voice a little hoarse.

"I know you're not," Ian interrupted, his tone as casual as if discussing the weather. "But secondhand materials are of inconsistent quality, which affects the quality of the finished product. That's what my mother said; she's a therapist and very picky about these things."

These are the most common basic materials that I asked her to find; they didn't cost much. The flowerpots and soil are scraps from the greenhouse, given to me by Professor Sprout.

He paused, looking at Severus's lowered profile, mostly obscured by his long, dark hair, and lowered his voice, a hint of a smile in it:

"I got the seeds myself. Peppermint and rue are easy to grow, but sedge is a bit more troublesome, but I think... I should be able to handle it. I'll just put it on the windowsill; it won't take up much space."

"It will be much easier to brew medicine in the future, compared to using those that have been sitting in the warehouse for who knows how long."

With that, Ian waved his wand and moved the flowerpot to the windowsill.

He then pulled out a small shovel from under the bed and began deftly filling the pot with soil. His movements weren't exactly professional, but they were certainly thorough.

Severus stood there, staring at the flowerpots and Ian's busy back. His lips moved, but he ultimately said nothing.

He walked back to his bedside and carefully put the several bottles of processed materials and the small bag of dried herbs into the old wooden box at the foot of the bed. He moved very gently and placed them very neatly.

Over the next few days, whenever Ian had free time, he would go to the windowsill, mutter to himself about the terracotta pots, occasionally water them, and sometimes even recite the basic spells he had just learned in his textbook that were supposed to promote plant growth.

Severus usually only glanced at them from afar, or paused slightly as he passed by, his gaze lingering for a moment on the few still barren patches of soil before looking away.

On Friday afternoon, Ian and Severus, carrying their textbooks and parchment, headed to the library to finish the paper Professor McGonagall had assigned on the basic theory of Transfiguration Charms.

I had barely sat down in a quiet corner by the window in the library when a light, agile figure approached.

"Hey! Severus, Ian!" Lily held a thick book, "The Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration," her green eyes still bright in the dim light of the library.

She naturally pulled out the chair opposite Ian and sat down, lowering her voice but unable to hide the excitement in her tone: "Have you heard? First flight lesson next Friday! Your college is with us!"

Severus looked up from the open book of magical theory, nodded slightly, indicating that he understood.

Ian's eyes lit up: "Finally, I'm going to get to touch a flying broomstick? I hope it's not one of those old-fashioned 'Meteor' models. My dad said he used one of those when he was in school, and it always sank down."

Lily laughed and lowered her voice, "I'm a little nervous, but I really want to try. Severus, what do you think? Would you like flying?"

Severus pursed his lips, his gaze returning to the pages of the book, his voice flat: "It's just a means of transportation. Theoretically, as long as you overcome the initial feeling of imbalance and grasp the basic principles of mechanics, it shouldn't be difficult."

Lily was already used to his tone and didn't take it to heart. She turned to Ian and said, "By the way, how far have you gotten on your Transfiguration paper? I'm still a little unsure about Professor McGonagall's part about 'the will-driven transformation of inner forms'..."

They discussed their homework in hushed tones for a while, and Lily shared some interesting anecdotes about the Gryffindor Tower.

It wasn't until Mrs. Pince's sharp gaze swept over them three times that they reluctantly packed up and left.

On Saturday morning, Ian got up to check on his "baby nursery" as usual, only to find that the two pots on the far side, peppermint and one of the rue, were not in good condition.

Instead of unfurling, the tender shoots drooped and withered, the parts closest to the soil turning black and exuding an ominous smell of decay.

"Tsk." Ian frowned and leaned closer to examine it more closely.

The soil seemed too wet, even a bit slippery.

He recalled Professor Sprout mentioning occasionally that some magical plants have extremely high requirements for air humidity and soil drainage, especially in their juvenile stage.

"What's wrong?" Severus's voice came from behind him. He had also noticed Ian's long stare.

"It seems... the roots are rotten." Ian touched the blackened stem with his fingertip with some annoyance. "I guess it's because the dorm room is too damp. It's at the bottom of the lake, so there's nothing I can do. The seeds probably weren't strong enough either."

Severus also came closer to take a look, but didn't say much. He just turned around and pulled out a book with a blurry cover, "A Simple Guide to the Cultivation of Common Medicinal Plants," from his pile of books. He flipped to a certain page and silently pushed it in front of Ian.

That page used simple illustrations to show the basic light and humidity requirements of different seeds.

"Looks like the windowsill won't do." Ian scratched his head, looked at the remaining pot of rue that was still relatively healthy and the newly sprouted but uncertain roots, and sighed. "It needs to be moved to a different place, preferably one where I can control the humidity and light myself."

Just as he was pondering whether there was any abandoned classroom or hidden corner in Hogwarts suitable for secretly doing "gardening," Kevin, who was practicing the "restore to its original state" gesture in front of the air but always causing the ink bottle on the table to crack with different patterns, also sighed and slumped onto the table.

"Merlin, why doesn't the school provide a place where we can practice spells freely? The common rooms are too crowded, Filch and his cat are always lurking in the hallways, and finding an empty classroom is a nerve-wracking experience..."