Throughout the day, Harry continued his attempts to brew Essence of Dittany under Alaric Thorn's tutelage. As for the results... they were less than stellar.
At one point, Alaric began to wonder if his own teaching abilities were the problem. But then he glanced at the Tree of Wisdom's progress bar and saw it steadily ticking upward.
Well, he thought, perhaps a bit more tuition won't hurt.
Over the next few days, Harry became a fixture at the shop. Even though the boy had no natural affinity for Potions, he was willing to do almost anything if it meant staying away from the Dursleys. During the lulls between stirring cauldrons, Alaric allowed him to explore the plantation. Harry marveled at dancing cacti and mushrooms that pulsated, growing and shrinking in rhythmic cycles. Since Alaric kept the truly lethal specimens out of this particular conservatory, he saw no reason to curb the boy's wonder.
The Devil's Snare clung to the exterior walls of the glasshouse, occasionally snaking a tendril inside to playfully poke at Harry. Speaking of the Snare, Alaric noticed it had become increasingly sentient of late.
Species: Devil's Snare
Level: 2
Traits: Intelligence
Status: Growing (96%)
The "Intelligence" trait was the reason for its peculiar spirit; the plant didn't just obey Alaric's commands—it appeared to engage in independent thought. Looking at that 96% progress, Alaric gave a satisfied nod. It wouldn't be long before the Snare took its next step.
During a break, the Devil's Snare extended a vine toward Alaric, wrapping around his hand in a needy, coaxing gesture. Alaric chuckled at the restless movement.
"It seems the time has come."
He reached onto a storage shelf and retrieved a vial of deep crimson liquid that emitted a faint, rhythmic luminescence. This was a specialized concoction Alaric had developed specifically for plants touched by his Mutation ability. It was designed to force a rapid growth spurt.
The ingredients were highly irregular. The primary component was Alaric's own blood. A wizard's blood was naturally saturated with magic, and Alaric's specific magical signature was uniquely attuned to the metabolic acceleration of flora.
Alaric uncorked the vial and poured the entire contents onto the Snare's primary vine.
Instantly, the plant bucked as if struck by lightning. It contracted violently before exploding outward, its dark green surface suddenly etched with glowing, blood-red veins that pulsed like a network of arteries. Alaric narrowed his eyes, watching the metamorphosis with clinical detachment.
The Snare eventually calmed, the red veins diffusing into the green bark with an eerie, exotic beauty. Alaric reached out, his fingertips grazing the surface. The vine coiled around him instantly, and a new prompt surfaced in his mind:
Species: Devil's Snare
Level: 3
Traits: Intelligence, Parasitism
Status: Growing (0%)
A leap into the next stage, Alaric noted, pleasantly surprised. And a new trait.
"Parasitism?"
The name alone didn't reveal the true function. Alaric focused his will, feeling the Snare's grip change. The vines, which had been gently encircling his wrist, suddenly tightened. They began to crawl up his arm, weaving together until they covered his entire torso.
"It's not parasitism in the literal sense," Alaric whispered to himself. He didn't resist, allowing the plant to merge with him. "It's a high-level symbiosis."
As the Snare enveloped him, Alaric felt the vines begin to sink into him. It was a profound, visceral connection. Finally, the vines receded, flowing back like a tide until they disappeared completely from his surface.
Alaric pulled back the sleeve of his robe. His skin was now marked with a dark, intricate lattice—a miniature map of the Devil's Snare etched beneath his epidermis. The patterns shifted slightly with every breath he took.
Experimentally, Alaric channeled his mana. The lattice on his arm glowed faintly, and a slender, whip-like vine erupted from the center of his palm. He lashed it through the air a few times; it moved with the fluidity of his own limb.
"I see..."
He closed his hand, and the vine retracted instantly, vanishing back into the shifting patterns under his skin.
"Eldra, analyze the 'Parasitism' trait."
The Tree of Wisdom provided a swift breakdown:
Parasitism: The Devil's Snare can fully integrate into the host's body for concealment and mobility. It can draw mana from the host for self-repair and rapid deployment.
The effect was simple but devastatingly practical. Alaric nodded, thoroughly pleased. This trait solved the issue of moving the Snare around unnoticed. However, he couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy as he watched the vines slither beneath his skin.
I look like some sort of eldritch horror, he thought. Like a tentacle monster. The thought made him shiver. "Alright, come out for now," he commanded.
The vines beneath his skin pulsed with a hint of reluctance before sliding back out, the dark lattice fading until his skin was clean once more. The main body of the Snare re-manifested before him, its tips quivering as if pouting.
"Don't be dramatic," Alaric said, patting a thick leaf. "Go back outside. I'll call for you when we leave."
The Snare hesitated, seemingly considering his words, before slowly retreating to its post on the conservatory walls.
While Alaric was testing the new limits of his companion, Harry—who had been left to his own devices—was staring with his jaw practically on the floor. He had watched Alaric be swallowed by a mass of black vines, only for the man and the plant to vanish and reappear in a sequence that looked like something out of a nightmare.
"Mr. Thorn..." Harry's voice was dry. He pointed at Alaric's arm. "Did those vines just... go inside you?"
"Oh, don't look so worried," Alaric said with a dismissive smile. "That's just the Devil's Snare. I introduced you, remember?"
"Can I learn how to do that?" Harry asked, eyes wide.
"No."
Alaric laughed at the boy's audacity. This wasn't something just anyone could master. He clapped his hands together, signaling the end of the diversion. "Now then, Harry, that's enough excitement for one afternoon. Let us return to the much more 'thrilling' world of Essence of Dittany."
Harry's face fell instantly.
Stupid potions, he thought. He was already certain that if he ever made it to Hogwarts, this would be his least favorite subject.