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Harry Potter: The Last Scion of Sprout - 245
🕑 Added 2025-09-16 20:45:22 +0000 UTCChapter 245: Magic Origin, Shadow Flower, and Parseltongue
Ciel never could have imagined that after the Philosopher's Stone destruction ritual ended, such flowers and grass formed from magical power would grow on the remaining patterns. He even less expected to see system reward information displayed above these flowers and grass.
This represented one thing. In the system's judgement, these plants composed of magical power could be cultivated and provide him with rewards! Moreover, these rewards were quite high-level. Every cluster of flowers and grass was a Diamond-level plant!
This phenomenon was quite different from the Herbology he had learnt so far. The magical world's Herbology, though bizarre and strange, like Mandrakes with roots resembling babies that could scream, was already quite peculiar.
But at least these herbs had physical substance. Planting them required soil, light, and water. But these flowers and grass are composed purely of different magical properties; how could they be planted?
His mind was full of confusion. These reward notifications, besides flickering with diamond radiance, showed only blur and question marks for specific content since he knew nothing about these flowers' properties.
Now, seemingly noticing his curiosity about these strange plants, Nicolas Flamel explained: "Is this phenomenon quite peculiar? I was once very curious too, investigating the origin of this phenomenon and these flowers. They're quite mysterious, but I found a mediaeval fringe theory to explain them."
Speaking thus, Nicolas Flamel asked him: "Have you heard of the World Tree?"
His heart jumped violently. Of course he'd heard of it. Not only had he heard of it, but he even had a piece of World Tree root authenticated as genuine by the system. Even his Patronus, if fully materialised, should be a World Tree!
But these secrets, he naturally couldn't reveal. He simply nodded: "Yes, of course, Master Nicolas. The World Tree is a myth pursued by all wizards passionate about Herbology."
Nicolas Flamel wasn't surprised by this answer. He continued: "Good. Since you know the World Tree legend, you should also have heard that legendary World Tree branches hang not fruit, but one strange world after another."
"These worlds' scenes differ vastly from reality. Some are filled from sky to ground with flame-like magic, others shrouded in frost. Some are even stranger, composed of chaotic gravity or entire worlds enveloped in light."
"Mediaeval scholars used this legend to explain magic's ultimate origin question. Why magic power is necessary for spellcasting, yet spellcasting doesn't consume magic power."
"They believed wizard spellcasting didn't avoid consuming magic power but simply didn't consume their own magic power. The consumed magic power actually came from those worlds on the World Tree."
"As for wizards' own magic power, it worked with spells and gestures to open magical channels to those worlds. The loss was naturally negligible, allowing unlimited spellcasting as long as physical strength and spirit could support it."
Ciel was hearing such theoretical hypotheses for the first time, showing a curious expression on his face: "But the legendary World Tree collapsed long ago."
Nicolas Flamel smiled and nodded: "Those scholars had explanations for this too. They believed during the Olympian mythological era and Norse mythological era, those remarkable giants used magic recklessly."
"Ancient magic's power was so tremendous that single spells consumed vast amounts of magic power from those worlds on the World Tree. Therefore, over long years, the World Tree couldn't bear the burden and finally collapsed."
"But after collapse, like fruit trees falling with fruit scattering, countless worlds scattered in extremely secretive forms around the real world, still providing magic power for wizards' spellcasting."
"Of course, the collapsed World Tree and scattered worlds couldn't supply those mythical existences, so the mythical age ended. But remaining magic power could still supply current wizards' weak magic."
Ciel frowned: "But current wizards still consume magic power. Will magic power continue depleting?"
Hearing this, Nicolas Flamel laughed and waved his hands: "Dear young Mr Sprout, I said this was just a fringe theory circulating in mediaeval times."
"Initially it was quite popular, making countless wizards feel a crisis. It even predicted magic power extinction time. That should have been when I was nearly fifty. In the magical world, wizards were terrified, waiting for everyone to become Muggles."
"But nothing happened. Later this school predicted several more times that the magical world would end and wizards would finish. You see the results. Nearly the 21st century now, isn't everything still fine? This proves it's just an erroneous theory."
Then Nicolas Flamel pointed at these flowers and grass: "I'm just using this hypothesis to attempt to explain this wonderful phenomenon."
"Possibly the magic power caused by the Philosopher's Stone also opened magical channels to those worlds. Combined with the Philosopher's Stone's life magic power, complex reactions formed, ultimately creating these short-lived magical flowers and grass."
"But magic is inherently idealistic. How can everything be explained? The older I get, the less I try to thoroughly investigate this world."
Nicolas half-jokingly said: "Continue investigating the world so deeply, and perhaps we'll think we're living in books or stories, so magic and magic power are all nonsense. That would make life extremely boring."
Ciel's eyes showed strange expressions, but he didn't pursue further. Though Nicolas Flamel's explanation was supposedly using erroneous theory, now the reward information above these magical flowers and grass had become clear.
Obviously, such explanations still contained considerable system-recognised information. World Tree, magic's ultimate questions... These thoughts flashed through his mind but were soon suppressed.
Hearing these as interesting stories to broaden horizons was acceptable, but truly investigating was beyond his current reach. Better to plant his plants properly and honestly collect system rewards.
Then he carefully examined the reward information displayed above these magical flowers and grass. On a flower composed entirely of flames appeared this reward information:
[You witnessed unknown flame magic power plants from strange worlds.]
[Cultivating them to maturity provides rewards.]
[Fire Magic Power Affinity (Diamond Level)]
Very singular rewards, yet his eyes showed some strange brilliance. With his magical perception now capable of initially sensing the microscopic world, he could detect that wizards' inherent magic power seemed to affect various magical particles' affinity toward them.
This would make such wizards show different talents in corresponding magic. For example, among Gryffindor first-years, he found one called Seamus Finnigan who was constantly surrounded by active, explosive-natured magical particles.
Even though Seamus's magical perception was far from being trained to the Platinum level, unable to experience the microscopic magical world's scenes, these special magical particles favoured him, constantly gathering around him.
This made Seamus truly an explosion expert. Every spellcasting or potion brewing carried explosion risks. If Seamus later encountered Blasting Curses, he'd probably not only cast them effortlessly but also achieve far greater power than ordinary people.
Other young wizards, though not as extreme as Seamus, more or less showed some magical affinity trends, obviously making them more skilled in these directions.
He had also observed magic power gathered around himself. But perhaps because his own magical talent was extremely low, his current magical perception and strength were entirely accumulated through system rewards; this brought him no special qualities.
All types of magical particles treated him only "professionally". However, if he could obtain abilities like [Fire Magic Power Affinity], that would indirectly improve his fire magic talents.
Scanning other flowers and grass, he found mostly similar magical affinity improvement rewards, making his eyes shine brilliantly. But just delaying this little time, many magical flowers had begun dissipating.
Watching this scene, he showed regrettable expressions.
Now Nicolas Flamel took out a specially made small box from his robes, smiling: "What a coincidence. This is the box I previously used to store the Philosopher's Stone. It can maximally prevent magical power loss."
"Now that the Philosopher's Stone is gone, this box is useless. It can be used to preserve these magical flowers, letting them maintain a longer existence as mementos."
"Come, young Mr Sprout, choose one to put inside." Nicolas Flamel half-jokingly said: "Perhaps later you'll find such special worlds and actually plant it alive."
Ciel paused. A box for storing the Philosopher's Stone must be extremely precious. Otherwise Nicolas Flamel wouldn't carry even the empty box. Plus Nicolas Flamel's previous invitation to observe the ritual and the alchemy notebook gift – he'd gained too many benefits from Nicolas Flamel.
But these magical flowers were truly important to him, possibly improving his magical talents. Therefore, after a moment, he seriously nodded, accepting Nicolas Flamel's gift: "Thank you, Master Nicolas."
"Though saying this now seems presumptuous, if anything ever requires my help in the future, please feel free to ask."
Nicolas Flamel's heart stirred slightly. The mysterious feeling that had prompted his Hogwarts visit now surged again in his heart. He looked deeply at Ciel, not showing any contempt because he was still a young, weak wizard, instead nodding equally seriously: "I have a premonition."
"Before I bid farewell to this world, I might need young Mr Sprout's promise. Then I'll truly trouble you."
Then Nicolas Flamel drew his particularly ancient wand that seemed made from materials like mithril: "Come, young Mr Sprout. Which flower do you want to preserve? How about this one composed of lightning? Or this frost flower?"
Moments later, his finger pointed at an unremarkable black flower seemingly composed of shadows.
Nicolas Flamel nodded: "Ha. Unique taste, low-key black. Good, very good."
Then with wand movements, this shadow magic flower fell into the small box that once contained the Philosopher's Stone. As the box closed, he indeed saw the reward information above this shadow flower no longer blurred, seemingly able to maintain for quite some time.
Only then did he breathe easier.
Now Nicolas Flamel waved to him and Dumbledore: "Well, I think my mission here is complete. Rarely coming to England, I have many places to visit. Won't make overly sentimental farewells. You two, I hope to invite you to my and my wife's funeral in five years."
Just finishing speaking, Nicolas Flamel left Dumbledore and him each a silver, glimmering watch with countdown timers and pointers indicating fixed directions.
Then Nicolas Flamel fiddled with a strange contraption. Without waiting for Dumbledore to offer an escort, he disappeared like triggering a Portkey before their eyes.
Dumbledore smiled bitterly: "Nicolas is always like this, arriving mysteriously, departing mysteriously. Well, Ciel, keep tonight's events secret. Don't tell others. Otherwise, participating in Philosopher's Stone destruction rituals and Nicolas Flamel's notebook might make some people develop inappropriate thoughts."
After various warnings, Dumbledore led him from this chamber, then hurried toward his office. Though the term was nearly ending, many troubles awaited him.
He watched Dumbledore's figure disappear, then slowly looked at the box containing the shadow flower. His long-suppressed heartbeat began accelerating.
Nicolas Flamel's earlier words echoed in his mind; perhaps later he could find special worlds and actually plant it alive. Coincidentally, he had previously contacted a world full of shadow magic power, the world passed through during shadow travel when Shadow Thorn cast ancient shadow magic.
There, no other magic existed, everything shrouded in shadow magic power. He couldn't confirm if this was the special world Nicolas Flamel mentioned, but perhaps he could plant this shadow flower there.
Then he quickened his pace toward the greenhouse. Before approaching the greenhouse, he saw two figures standing at the door. He frowned. Those were Harry and Hermione?
What were they doing here? He instinctively slowed down, but sharp-eyed Harry had spotted him, repeatedly waving.
He showed a helpless expression, then approached: "Harry, Hermione. It's not even dawn yet. You're waiting here because?"
Facing his question, Harry stammered: "There's something very important. We had to find you."
He paused. The Philosopher's Stone plot had ended. What important matter could there be? Moments later, he remembered something, understanding: "You mean the Invisibility Cloak? Sorry, I just woke up not long ago and haven't had time to return it. Wait a moment, I'll get it now."
But as he turned, Harry quickly stopped him: "No, Ciel. Keep the Invisibility Cloak for now. We're going home in a few days anyway. I can't use the Invisibility Cloak at the Dursleys'. We came at this time for another absolutely necessary matter."
As he grew increasingly confused, nearby Hermione flushed red with shame, stammering: "We discovered other students seem to have modified memories. They forgot what happened in the Forbidden Forest then. They all think they encountered trolls or something."
"But we remember what monsters we encountered and what risks you took to save everyone. So we think we must..."
Harry took a deep breath, then spoke words that surprised him: "Sorry, Ciel. We owe you an apology."
Hermione also lowered her head: "Yes, sorry. We did wrong, completely misunderstanding you. Tonight we couldn't sleep at all. So we thought we must find you to apologise."
His expression first showed surprise, then became gentler. Harry and Hermione's previous suspicions had indeed displeased him, but honestly, in his view, they were just eleven-year-old children. No need to hold grudges.
His distance was only to avoid trouble and prevent Dumbledore from assigning him as their babysitter. But these two children coming to admit their mistakes in the middle of the night was somewhat unexpected.
Sometimes, the courage needed to admit being wrong was no less than facing strong enemies, perhaps even more. Oneself was the greatest enemy.
So after pausing briefly, he didn't press aggressively, instead looking at these children's obvious dark circles from staying up, showing an amused expression: "It's not a big deal. You could have said this during the day."
Harry scratched his head embarrassedly: "Not saying it made sleeping feel uneasy."
Now he was both amused and curious, asking: "What about Ron Weasley? Didn't he come with you?"
Now both Harry and Hermione's expressions changed slightly. Hermione's eyes reddened, while Harry looked more embarrassed: "We tried persuading him, but..."
He sighed, interrupting the topic: "Alright, no matter. I never liked him anyway. Regardless, do you want to come in for tea? My aunt gave me some refreshing herbal tea that should help you."
Harry and Hermione exchanged glances, both sighing with relief, nodding and following him into the greenhouse.
As he was about to close the greenhouse door, he suddenly frowned, looking toward Hogwarts castle in the night sky. He seemed to glimpse red and deep hatred. But this feeling vanished instantly.
He looked deeply in that direction with a cold expression, then turned to firmly close the greenhouse door.
Moments later, in distant corridors, Ron Weasley slowly emerged from column shadows. He clenched his fists tightly, his hair increasingly red, nearly grinding his teeth.
He returned to the common room, lying on his dormitory bed. But closing his eyes, the images in his mind not only didn't blur but became clearer, especially Hermione's flushed face as she lowered her head, secretly glancing at Ciel.
This image, which shouldn't be so clear, lingered in his mind, stirring intense hatred and jealousy that even Ron himself didn't notice. Like a voice continuously echoing from these images in his mind, Ron unconsciously began repeating: "Traitors! All traitors!"
"And shameful, filthy Mudbloods! Just wait, just wait... We'll clean you all out!"
Unknowingly, even Ron didn't realise his hatred-suppressing whispers gradually changed from human language to bone-chilling hissing sounds.
Meanwhile, in the greenhouse, Harry, who was drinking hot tea, suddenly rubbed his brow, feeling faint pain. Nearby Hermione asked: "Harry? What's wrong?"
Harry instinctively replied: "Nothing. Maybe didn't rest well; head hurts a bit..."
But before finishing, he saw Hermione nearly drop her teacup, her expression turning terrified. Opposite Ciel also showed a rather strange expression.
Harry was startled: "What happened?"
The just-recovered Hermione trembled: "Harry, what you just said wasn't English at all. It was hissing sounds, sounding exactly like... snakes."
Hearing this, Harry was both confused and surprised. Witnessing this scene, Ciel's eyes flickered slightly. This was his first time hearing Parseltongue.
Simultaneously, he noticed a strange phenomenon. When Harry spoke Parseltongue, the surrounding magic power changed. Those darker-natured magical particles began gathering toward Harry.
No wonder Parseltongue was considered a symbol of evil dark wizards. This language seemed to truly possess dark magical power.
Thinking this, he also had a thought. His previous Demeter ritual magic had triggered mysterious oracles, seeing a dilapidated temple. But he couldn't understand the language from the temple, seemingly an extremely ancient, powerful language.
Perhaps learning languages like Parseltongue could help him understand oracles? Moreover, even without considering this aspect, Parseltongue might benefit his dark magic, especially Serpensortia.
So moments later, he explained to Harry and Hermione: "This is Parseltongue. An innate talent allowing communication with snakes. Harry, you should have had similar experiences before?"
Harry then remembered his pre-enrolment zoo visit when he'd conversed with a Brazilian python. This relieved him: "Merlin above. I thought I was cursed or possessed. Ciel, this Parseltongue isn't harmful, right?"
He showed a contemplative expression: "Wizards with Parseltongue have been rare throughout history. Whether Parseltongue has negative effects is truly an unknown subject."
"Hmm... How about this, Harry: speak more Parseltongue to me these next few days? Let me research it for you?"
At these words, both Harry and Hermione froze. Harry showed a disbelieving expression, looking at him.
He wondered, were his intentions too obvious? Was this suspicious? That would be troublesome.
But the next moment, Harry's face filled with gratitude: "Ciel, you're such a good person!"
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