Chapter 292: The Itching Ivy
"Young Green, I've always said you have a natural gift for just about everything."
Outside the greenhouse doors, Bruce was humming a cheerful tune, seemingly talking to himself.
There were so many legends surrounding this particular upper-year that Sean didn't find it the least bit surprising that Bruce could slip itching powder onto Lockhart without a soul noticing.
The real question was: how had Bruce realized Professor Lockhart was a complete fraud so quickly? Before today, most of the staff had treated the celebrity author with at least a modicum of professional respect.
Professor Sprout, for instance, hadn't forcibly ejected Lockhart yet. However, ever since Bruce had walked in, the warm smile hadn't left her face.
She looked into Sean's eyes and addressed the class. "We are repotting Mandrakes today. Now, who can tell me the properties of the Mandrake?"
The students, fresh from their summer holidays, looked mostly blank. In Herbology, a pattern had quickly emerged: if you didn't know the answer, you simply looked behind you to see if Sean Green was standing there.
"The Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative," Sean answered. "It is used to return those who have been transfigured or cursed to their original state."
"A splendid answer! Precisely!" Lockhart cut in, swooping like a vain peacock spreading its tail feathers. "Let's have a round of applause for Mr. Green. He shows a great deal of the flair I possessed during my own time at Hogwarts."
This time, however, he did not receive the applause he expected.
"Sorry, did you say Sean Green has a touch of your flair?" Michael Corner asked, unable to suppress a grin.
A strange atmosphere settled over the greenhouse. The Slytherins didn't care much for Lockhart, but their expressions were now openly disdainful. Draco Malfoy even let out a sharp bark of laughter.
Did this man have any idea what he was saying? Even Draco's father didn't dare belittle "this Green" anymore.
"Indeed, a fine young wizard," Lockhart continued smoothly, offering Sean an encouraging, patronizing look. "Perhaps one day he might even catch a glimpse of my shadow."
"So you're the rising star Dumbledore personally vouches for, then, Professor? We've clearly underestimated you," Michael flattered him, elbowing Terry Boot.
Terry, who was busy counting Mandrake leaves and recording data, gave a dazed response. "Oh... based on that... you must be far more impressive than Dumbledore was at your age."
Lockhart winced. In this school, the only person he was truly wary of—and didn't dare provoke—was the Headmaster.
"If we were all trapped in a telephone booth by a werewolf, I expect even Dumbledore wouldn't have fared much better than I did. Would you like to hear the thrilling details? It's all in my books. Ah, Wandering with Werewolves, I believe. Let me tell you a little secret: reading the exploits of a brave wizard can be quite educational."
He prattled on, but the Ravenclaws were no longer buying it. Even the young witches who had been starstruck moments ago were looking at him with complicated, doubtful expressions.
After all, Mr. Green and Professor Lockhart seemed to have much in common on the surface. Both were brilliant, knowledgeable, and had published their own works. But Mr. Green's achievements were right in front of them, and the students couldn't imagine anyone being more impressive—especially after being publicly endorsed by Dumbledore.
Lockhart experienced his first true "cold shoulder" at Hogwarts. The Ravenclaws were indifferent, and the Slytherins met his gaze with sneers.
It was then that Lockhart realized just how unique the boy standing before him was.
"Oh, I meant to say—oh—oh, blimey!"
Suddenly, Lockhart began to itch violently. He lost all will to explain himself, his mouth letting out a series of strangled, meaningless yelps.
He ran out of the greenhouse as if he were performing a frantic jig. Outside, Bruce was still lingering near the door.
"Dear me, Professor! You've run right into a patch of Itching Ivy! Surely you recognize the symptoms?"
"Of... of course! I knew... I knew immediately!" Lockhart wheezed after a few moments. "If it hadn't... if it hadn't taken me by surprise, I'd have subdued it in two minutes!"
Inside the greenhouse, the students watched through the glass, wide-eyed and silent. The young witches who had previously admired him were now blushing with sheer embarrassment.
"What a tragedy," Bruce said with mock concern. "If you weren't so incapacitated, I'm sure you'd have a brilliant cure for it."
"Naturally! But for now—"
"Allow me to help you! Getting close to a legendary figure like yourself has always been my dream—"
"Good lad... wait, what are you spraying on me?"
"You should know, Professor! It's the neutralizing powder for Itching Ivy."
"Then why does it itch more?!"
"That means it's working, Professor! The itch is just the toxins leaving the body!"
Professor Sprout finally stepped forward and closed the greenhouse door. Even for a man like Lockhart, she tried to preserve a shred of his dignity.
"An excellent answer, ten points to Ravenclaw," Professor Sprout said, turning back to the class. "Mandrakes form an essential part of most antidotes. However, they are also dangerous. Who can tell me why?"
Once Professor Lockhart had fled, the Herbology lesson returned to its usual rhythm.
Sean reached into a pot and pulled out a hideous, screaming baby-like creature with leaves growing out of its head. Its skin was a pale, mottled green. The little thing was clearly bawling at the top of its lungs.
Michael and the others crowded around Sean, while in other parts of the greenhouse, a dark red plant with sharp thorns began lashing out at students with its tentacles, sending them scurrying back with yelps of fear.
"The compost is in those sacks over there—mind the Venomous Tentacula, it's teething," Professor Sprout warned.
[Alert: You have successfully processed a Mandrake at an Adept level. Proficiency +10]
Every plant had its own subtle quirks, and Sean approached them with genuine enthusiasm. His processing speed was easily the fastest in the class.
By the end of the lesson, the students were sweaty, aching, and covered in earth. They trudged back to the castle to wash up before the Ravenclaws hurried off to Transfiguration.
As they passed the greenhouse exit, Professor Lockhart was still standing there, drenched in a cold sweat. He was forcing a smile, trying to maintain his poise.
"Ah, students! It took a massive amount of magical energy, but I have successfully subdued the Itching Ivy. I trust you fared well in the greenhouse... now that I've neutralized the threat outside?"
A few Ravenclaw girls cast him a fleeting glance before hurrying on. Lockhart didn't seem to feel the shame; instead, he began loudly proclaiming the "correct" way to handle Itching Ivy to anyone who would listen.
"The plant was a fake, wasn't it?" Sean asked as they walked.
"Of course it was," Bruce replied. "But some people need to believe it was real, otherwise the embarrassment would be fatal. Speaking of which, the Itching Ivy isn't the only fake thing around here."
Bruce gave Sean a knowing wink.
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