In the Scottish Highlands in September, early mornings were always accompanied by damp, cold mist.
As Tamara led her followers out of the Castle gates, the damp air hitting their faces made this group of pampered young masters and ladies frown one after another.
“This wretched weather.”
Draco Malfoy shrunk his neck, looking disdainfully at the muddy grass beneath his feet; his polished boots had just stepped on it when they were splashed with a bit of mud.
Tamara still maintained her perfect poise today, her dark green silk robes fluttering slightly in the morning breeze, her long hair tied behind her head with a silver-green ribbon, revealing her long, fair neck.
Nagini hadn’t come along; it seemed to utterly loathe moisture, stubbornly staying in the blankets and refusing to budge, and Tamara didn’t bother forcing a cat to suffer.
If she could, she would rather just rob an apothecary than come here to play with mud, but for that damn goal of getting an ‘O’ in every subject, she had to endure it.
Greenhouse One was located on the grounds behind the Castle, a long glass building.
After everyone had changed into their work clothes, they pushed open the door and walked in, met by a wave of warm, humid air mixed with the fragrance of earth and the stench of fertilizer.
Professor Sprout, a Witch wearing a patched hat with dirt always stuffed under her fingernails, was waiting for them behind a long table piled high with flowerpots.
“Good morning, Slytherin students!”
Professor Sprout cheerfully clapped the dirt off her hands, her smile very bright.
“Don’t just stand at the door, come in! Today we are going to learn about a very interesting and practical plant!”
“Today’s theme is—Dittany.”
Professor Sprout pointed to the row of ordinary-looking plants with silver-green leaves on the table.
“Who can tell me, what are the effects of Dittany?”
The whole room was silent.
Goyle was trying to pick a bug out of his nostril, Crabbe was staring blankly at the potted plant, and Pansy was busy wiping water droplets off her robes.
Draco did know, but he was busy being disgusted by the fertilizer bucket on the table and had no time to raise his hand.
Tamara sighed.
This showed the downside of Hermione Granger not being present—with no one racing to answer, the atmosphere would be quite awkward.
She elegantly raised a hand.
“Miss Riddle?” Professor Sprout’s eyes lit up.
“Dittany is a powerful healing herb, Professor.”
Tamara’s voice was steady, precise as if reciting a textbook: “Its essence can be used to treat lacerations, prevent scarring, and even has a certain delaying effect on some irreversible damage caused by the Dark Arts.”
“Perfect! Five points to Slytherin!”
The Slytherin students immediately straightened their backs, looking at Tamara with even more admiration.
“Now, today’s task is simple.”
Professor Sprout pointed to a large bucket of dark brown substance nearby that emitted a strong odor.
“These seedlings need repotting; you need to transplant them into larger pots and mix in enough fertilizer.”
“Be careful, the root systems of Dittany are very fragile, and they like… er… nutrient-rich environments.”
“That’s dragon dung.” Draco covered his nose, taking a step back in horror, “That’s Antipodean Opaleye dung, I can smell it!”
“A very keen nose, Mr. Malfoy.” Professor Sprout nodded approvingly, “Fresh dragon dung compost is the best nourishment for Dittany.”
“Now, put on your dragon-hide gloves and get to work!”
The Slytherin students looked at each other.
Asking these “noble pure-bloods” to grab dragon dung?
This was practically murder!
Even Pansy, who had always been obedient to Tamara, now had a bitter face, looking at the bucket of black stuff and not daring to move for a long time.
Tamara looked at the flowerpot in front of her, then at the bucket of nutrient-rich dragon dung next to it.
She pulled her exquisite leather gloves, embroidered with a silver snake pattern, from her pocket, preparing to put them on.
Although touching dung through gloves was also disgusting, it was already the limit of what she could accept.
However.
Just as her fingers touched the edge of the gloves.
[Ding! Core segment of Herbology course detected: Contact with the Earth.]
[Virtue Task Triggered: Gift of the Earth.]
[Task Description: True Life force should not be isolated by cold leather. As a Wizard determined to protect Life, please use your hands to feel the temperature of the soil and the pulse of Life.] The source of this chapter is novelping.com.
[Task Requirement: Complete the transplanting and fertilizing of Dittany barehanded.]
[Task Reward: Life +5.]
[Failure Penalty: For the next three days, no matter how many times you bathe, your body will emit a faint smell of dragon dung.]
Tamara’s movements froze.
The expensive gloves slipped from her fingertips and fell onto the dirt-covered table.
Damn it!
Damn it!
Damn it!
Tamara felt her temples throbbing.
She looked at the dark brown, slightly steaming bucket of dragon dung.
That was shit.
Even if it was a dragon’s, it was still shit!
Letting her, the great Lord Voldemort, use those hands that once held the elder wand to grab shit?!
“I’m not doing it.” Draco threw his gloves on the table, “This is too disgusting, I’ll have Goyle do it for me.”
“I can’t either…” Pansy was also about to cry, “This will ruin my nails.”
There was a chorus of complaints all around.
Tamara took a deep breath.
If she didn’t do it, she would stink for three days.
If she did it, not only could she get those damn 5 Life points, but she could also once again establish a god-like image in front of these pampered wastes.
“This is the price.”
She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, the disgust in her eyes had been replaced by a sense of sacred sacrifice.
Tamara rolled up the sleeves of her silk robes, revealing two fair, slender arms like lotus roots.
Then.
She reached out those well-maintained hands, with perfectly trimmed and rounded nails, and without any hesitation, plunged them directly into the bucket of dragon dung compost in front of everyone.
“Hiss—”
A collective gasp came from the surroundings.
Draco’s eyes were about to pop out.
“Ta… Tamara? Are you crazy?!”
Tamara grabbed a handful of warm, viscous compost and expressionlessly placed it into the bottom of the flowerpot.
Not only was there no trace of disdain on her face, but it also carried a kind of almost devout concentration.
But Tamara was already screaming frantically in her heart about wanting to chop her hands off, while simultaneously having to maintain her surface calm.
“In the eyes of a Wizard, materials are not noble or lowly, only whether they are useful.”
She carefully placed the delicate Dittany seedling into the pot; what a sharp contrast it was—those hands covered in filth, yet holding up the emerald green Life in an extremely gentle posture.
“Though dragon dung is filthy, it contains powerful magic that allows Dittany to radiate its strongest medicinal properties.”
“If you can’t even stand this bit of dirt…”
Tamara looked up, her black eyes scanning every dumbfounded Slytherin.
“Then when you face bloodshed, face rotting wounds, face true Dark Arts, are you also going to run away because of disgust?”
Draco was stunned.
He looked at Tamara’s mud-stained hands and suddenly felt how ridiculous his own affectation was.
Yes.
This was Tamara.
She could be high and mighty like a queen, but she could also hesitate-free dirty her hands for the sake of power.
This kind of courage… this kind of ruthlessness to do whatever it takes for a goal… this was a true Slytherin!
“I’m sorry, Tamara.”
Draco grit his teeth and also took off his gloves. New chapters come out on g.com first.
“You’re right, I’m a Malfoy, I shouldn’t be afraid of this little bit of stuff.”
He also grabbed a handful of dragon dung; although his expression was still a bit distorted, he endured it.
With Draco taking the lead, Pansy, Goyle, Blaise… all the Slytherin freshmen silently took off their gloves.
For a moment, only the rustling sound of turning soil remained in the greenhouse.
Professor Sprout stood aside, watching this group of Slytherin students who were usually the most difficult to please, now each playing with mud barehanded and working with great enthusiasm.
She was moved to tears.
“Oh… how touching…”
Professor Sprout wiped the corners of her eyes: “In all my years of teaching, I have never seen Slytherins who love plants so much and respect the earth so much!”
“Miss Riddle! Your words are so educational!”
“Twenty points to Slytherin! For the most precious spirit in this class!”
Tamara did not smile because of the points.
She was concentrating on the final finishing touches.
She used her mud-covered fingers to gently press down the soil at the base of the Dittany, her movements as light as if she were caressing a lover’s cheek.
[Ding! Task Completed: Gift of the Earth.]
[You have proven with your actions that true virtue is not afraid of dirt or exhaustion!]
[System Evaluation: S]
[Reward: Life +5.]
[Current Life: 12.]
[Ding! Congratulations to the host!]
[Detected that the “Life” attribute has broken through the 10-point mark.]
[Your close contact with soil and fertilizer proves that you have a heart that understands the true meaning of Life by nourishing all things.]
[Unlocked Level 1 Life-series Charm: Episkey.]
[Spell Effect: Can heal minor wounds, bruises, small fractures, or nosebleeds.]
[System Evaluation: “You used to only create corpses, but now you have learned to repair bodies. See, isn’t this a great improvement?”]
“Healing magic?”
Tamara’s expression was extremely ugly; so after enduring humiliation and heavy burdens for nearly a whole class, she had unlocked such a useless skill!
She sneered in her heart: “I am the Dark Lord, not a nurse at St. Mungos.”
[No matter what it is, helping others is never a bad thing!]
The moment the bell rang for the end of class, she stood up almost like a projectile.
“Class dismissed,” Professor Sprout had just finished saying.
Tamara had already begun chanting spells at her hands.
“Scourgify! Scourgify! Tergeo! Scourgify!”
She cast four spells in one breath at her hands until they became fair and dry again, even a bit red and peeling, and there wasn’t a trace of odor left in the air before she stopped.
Even so, she still felt like something was crawling under her fingernails.
“Tamara, wait for me!”
Draco chased after her, shaking the mud off his hands, looking excited.
“I think that feeling just now was actually quite cool! Like… er… conquering nature!”
Tamara turned her head and looked at Draco, who was approaching with hands full of mud, and instinctively took three steps back.
“Stay away from me, Malfoy.”
Her voice returned to that heart-stopping coldness, and this time it truly carried murderous intent.
“Don’t speak to me until you’ve washed your hands clean.”
After saying that, she turned and left, her pace so fast it was as if she were fleeing for her Life.
“What’s wrong with her?” Pansy approached, looking at Tamara’s back as she practically fled in panic.
“Probably…” Draco looked at his own filthy hands, deep in thought, “Probably going to think about how to lead us to continue pursuing excellence.”
“She truly is a natural-born leader.”