Chapter 155: Pumpkin Carriage, Teapot Birds
The mature Mandragora had leaves longer than an adult’s hand—trying to fit one in your mouth was sheer fantasy. So Wade had to choose smaller, tender ones. But if they were too small, they’d easily slip down into the stomach.
“Best if it covers about one-third of the upper palate—without touching the teeth,” Professor Sprout explained, drawing from ancestral experience. “The curvature of the leaf surface matters too. The closer it fits the palate, the better the chance of success.”
Under Professor Sprout’s guidance, Wade selected a leaf. Then she picked out several more of similar size, snipping off five or six with careful precision. She soaked them in a vivid green herbal infusion, neutralizing the potent magic inherent in the Mandragora, then cast a preservation charm before handing them all to Wade.
“Practice with these until the full moon,” she said.
“So many?” Wade asked, surprised.
Counting the days, the full moon was only six days away. That meant Professor Sprout was giving him roughly one leaf per day.
She smiled. “The beginning is always the hardest. Just don’t burn through them all before the moon rises—that’s already a win.”
…
“Good afternoon, Wade,” chirped the tiny Witch Hunter, bouncing into the office and opening the door with a skip. Her voice was low and gravelly. “You’re late.”
Wade raised his hand, fingers spread in a “five.”
The Witch Hunter understood immediately and frowned. “Five minutes is still late.”
Wade waved his wand, and a string of golden text shimmered into existence in the air:
【Had an accident at lunch—disrupted my timing.】
At that moment, Professor Mor stepped out from inside.
Wade sent a query via text: 【Is Jerry getting more lively?】
“Jerry” was Professor Mor’s nickname for the Witch Hunter.
“That’s the wonder of LifeAlchemy,” Professor Mor said with a smile. “Unlike the rigid, lifeless pieces in Wizard’s Chess, he grows. He absorbs knowledge, and his personality may even evolve over time.”
Wade marveled: 【It’s like creating real life.】
“Which is exactly why it’s so captivating.” Professor Mor paused, then asked, “What’s wrong with your voice?”
【I’m practicing Animagus transformation.】 Wade replied. 【I’ve got a Mandragora leaf in my mouth—hard to talk with it there.】
Just the first day, and he’d already ruined two leaves.
One had slipped during class, accidentally grazed by his teeth. The moment it touched his tongue, a bitter taste flooded his mouth—intense, lingering. He’d scrubbed his teeth three times before it finally faded.
The other had been sacrificed during eating. He’d used a Sticking Charm to attach the leaf to his upper palate, but the obstruction made breathing difficult. Then he tried sticking it to his tongue—worse. Speaking became a struggle, swallowing harder, and the leaf crumpled under pressure.
Now Wade truly understood: holding a thin, fragile leaf in your mouth without damaging it wasn’t like sucking on a candy. Candies melt or crush easily. This leaf had to be treated like a newborn—gentle, precise, protected.
So he temporarily abandoned speaking altogether. To avoid being called on in class, he even secretly cast an Invisibility Charm to dodge sudden questions.
“Animagus?” Professor Mor shook his head, disapproving. “That magic is dangerous and practically useless. Once transformed, you’re bound by the limitations of an animal’s body. No other spells. Why bother?”
【It’s amazing just to become an animal! And mastering Animagus greatly helps with Transfiguration studies.】 Wade insisted.
Mor chuckled, indulgent. “Fine, be your own stubborn child. You always want to learn everything.” He tilted his head. “Know of Vagadu Magic School?”
Wade: 【I’ve heard of it—African school, largest of all magic institutions.】
Mor nodded. “I never studied Animagus myself, but I know a few wizard friends from Africa.”
“Vagadu excels in wandless spellcasting and Animagus transformation. Many of their students can transform into elephants or cheetahs by age fourteen. I can lend you some notes for reference.”
【Thank you, Professor.】
“Don’t thank me yet,” Mor said, feigning sternness. “If you turn into a slug, just don’t cry in front of me.”
Wade couldn’t help laughing.
He knew—Professor Mor might not approve, but he’d always support his determination.
If it were Professor McGonagall… Wade pictured it.
“Too dangerous, Mr. Gray!” she’d snap, face rigid. “This is not a magic a student your age should be dabbling in!”
Or worse—
“Mr. Gray, what is your Animagus form? Wizard Animagus forms must be registered with the Ministry of Magic. Failure to do so is a felony!”
Well. Professor McGonagall was a good, upright professor—flawless as a teacher. But she tolerated no deviation. That was precisely why Wade never dared reveal any secrets to her.
“Enough chit-chat,” Professor Mor said. “Back to class. Did you finish the assignment I gave you last time?”
Wade nodded, setting his backpack on the floor and tapping it with his wand.
A giant closet appeared.
Stepping inside, a pumpkin carriage with no horse rolled toward them with a soft gurgle. The door opened automatically. Once both had stepped in, the carriage began moving.
It glided down a white road flanked by armored soldiers on guard, their movements precise and solemn. Two cats tumbled playfully across the grass—nimble in motion, yet clearly mechanical, crafted from metal and clockwork.
A group of wide brooms swept the path on their own, swishing back and forth. Baskets bounced behind them, spilling trash they’d just collected. The brooms gave them a tap, then returned to work.
The carriage stopped at the edge of a forest. Beneath a great banyan tree sat a white table and two high-backed chairs.
The round, plump teapot bowed slightly, and two cups leapt out of their plate tray, eager to serve. The teapot poured black tea into both cups. Steam rose from the rims, puffing against the lids like tiny, joyful songs.
Professor Mor lifted his cup and drained it in one gulp, then set it back down.
The teapot rushed to refill it—but Professor Mor stopped it with a hand.
Wade waved, and a bird landed on his palm. It leaned down, pecked the rim of the cup, and fresh water gushed from the base, filling the cup to the brim—then stopped.
Professor Mor smiled, pleased.
“Not bad. Only two weeks, and you’ve completed this creation.”
He was deeply satisfied, though he kept his praise restrained, as always.
【Combining alchemical constructs with magic is tough. Solidifying the magic rune circuit so it can summon a Fresh Water Spring is even harder.】
Wade stroked the bird’s head. 【At least it finally worked.】
“Now,” Professor Mor said, “you can begin attempting to solidify two magic rune circuits.”
“We’ll cover today’s lesson: the compatibility and conflicts between alchemy materials and magical spells.”
(End of Chapter)
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