During the grand feast in the Great Hall, the atmosphere at each house table was distinctly different.
At the Ravenclaw table, the eagles were deep in animated conversation about their favorite books and the branches of magic that fascinated them most. Some were already comparing notes on Charms, others debating the merits of ancient runes versus arithmancy.
Over at Slytherin, the snakes were quietly establishing their pecking order. Purebloods from old wizarding families took their places at the center, while others—those less connected or from newer magical lineages—listened carefully as the rules of the house were explained and reinforced. In Slytherin, hierarchy and tradition reigned from the very first night.
The Gryffindor lions, meanwhile, were lively and boisterous. Harry was chatting with Neville, Ron, and the others about life at home, while Hermione was already questioning Percy, the prefect, about Transfiguration and how best to excel in her classes.
But at the Hufflepuff table, things were a little different. The little badgers, as they were affectionately called, focused on their food with quiet dedication. The older students leaned over to offer practical advice to the first-years.
"Don't eat too much at dinner," one of the older Hufflepuffs warned with a wink. "Our house has its own kitchen, you know. You can always find something tasty, day or night. Save room for a midnight snack!"
The first-years were amazed—and delighted. The promise of a second feast after the Sorting Ceremony was almost too good to be true. Their minds were already drifting to the cozy common room, the warmth of the fire, and the delicious treats they'd soon enjoy.
So, when Dumbledore stood to give his traditional warnings about the Forbidden Forest and the off-limits fourth-floor corridor, the Hufflepuffs barely took notice. The idea of sneaking out after dark held little appeal. Why risk trouble when you could be safe, warm, and well-fed in the common room?
Char felt more and more at home with every passing moment. In Hufflepuff, no one would think it odd if he spent his free time tending to magical plants. In fact, hobbies like gardening, baking, and tea-making were celebrated. Here, he could work quietly, surrounded by friends who valued comfort and kindness.
The feast ended with the Hogwarts school song, and the prefects led the new students to their dormitories. For Hufflepuff, the night was just beginning—a second, smaller feast awaited them in the common room. Only when every badger was full to bursting did they finally tumble into bed, falling asleep almost instantly on the softest mattresses in the castle.
Char lay in his own bed, staring up at the ceiling, still half-convinced he was dreaming. Was this really the start of his life at Hogwarts? He took a deep breath, savoring the scent of clean sheets and distant flowers. "It almost feels unreal," he whispered. "Maybe I should plant something to calm down."
He pulled out his pots and seeds and began to work, the familiar motions soothing his nerves.
[You have successfully planted the goldfish spider plant]
[You have successfully planted the goldfish spider plant]
[...]
As the magical prompts appeared, Char's mind grew clear. Here in Hufflepuff, he could avoid the constant drama between Gryffindor and Slytherin, the secret battles between Dumbledore and Voldemort. But he knew that, one day, the war would come to every corner of the wizarding world—even Hufflepuff.
A cold determination flickered in his eyes. In a few years, Antonin Dolohov might escape from Azkaban. Char didn't want to meddle in every grand adventure, but Dolohov was different. That man must pay for what he'd done.
Char knew his magical talent was limited. He wasn't the sort of wizard who could duel Death Eaters head-on. But with the help of his planting system, he had another path. "I'll plant as many magical plants as possible," he resolved. "Especially those that offer precious rewards. And to grow the more difficult ones, I'll need a strong magic perception. That's why the goldfish spider plant is so important."
He calculated quickly. "I've given out twenty-two pots to Neville and the other Hufflepuffs. I still have eighteen seeds left. If I plant them on the trickiest staircases, they'll absorb plenty of forgetfulness from students getting lost. That should be enough—forty pots, all maturing quickly."
In the blink of an eye, five days passed. The new students began to settle into their routines, and the first hints of talent emerged. Hermione Granger, just as in the original story, was already dazzling Professor McGonagall in Transfiguration. Some Ravenclaws excelled in Charms, and the professors quietly compared notes over breakfast.
"What do you think of this year's class?"
"Hermione Granger is brilliant—her only weakness is that her magical reserves aren't the highest."
"And Harry Potter?"
"Strong magical power, but needs polish. He'll learn powerful magic early, but he's not patient with the theory."
"Gryffindor has Potions today. Lily was a prodigy—maybe Harry will be, too."
The professors sighed over some students.
"Neville Longbottom… too forgetful. But we all know he's under a Memory Charm. Maybe he'll blossom in a few years."
"And Seamus—he has a knack for making things explode, doesn't he?"
When the conversation turned to Char, Professors McGonagall and Flitwick both looked regretful.
"Such a smart boy. His comprehension and focus are excellent. If only his magical talent were just a bit higher… what a pity."
Professor Sprout, overhearing, clenched her fists. "I won't let magical talent hold him back. I'll find every ingredient for the talent-enhancing potion, no matter what."
Char, meanwhile, skipped breakfast, unaware of the professors' concerns. He knew his magical power was only temporary. Once the Marguerites in the Sprout greenhouse matured, he'd claim their rewards and everything would change. Only four months left—he could wait.
For now, his focus was on the goldfish spider plants. He stood at the top of one of Hogwarts' most confusing staircases, a bag of seeds in hand. There were 142 staircases and countless doors at Hogwarts, some of which changed or required special tricks to pass. Even older students got lost, and first-years were hopelessly confused.
Char waited patiently, knowing this was the main route to the Potions classroom. Soon, Neville came rushing up, panic written all over his face.
"I'm going to be late! Oh no, not this staircase again—how do I get to Potions?"
Char's eyes lit up as he saw three glowing orbs hovering above Neville's pocket.
[The goldfish spider plant you planted has matured]
[Reward: Slightly improve magic perception]
A smile spread across Char's face. His plan was working—and his journey as Hogwarts' most unusual Herbologist was only just beginning.
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