Early the next morning, sunlight poured through the library windows, scattering golden flecks across the open pages of countless books. Robert, immersed in reading, let out a quiet sigh.
He closed the book in front of him—The Mystery of the Five-legged Beast—and returned several other hefty volumes to their shelves.
"There's certainly no shortage of books on the Five-legged Beast," he murmured. "This 5X-level magical creature, capable of transforming from humans, has clearly captured the attention of many."
But as he recalled what he had read the previous night, Robert shook his head slightly. Despite the sheer number of records, most authors had never seen a Five-legged Beast in person. Few had ever set foot on Dereria Island. Their accounts were often based on hearsay, leaving little truly useful information.
Yet, Robert was unsurprised. Dereria Island had been under a magical blockade by the Ministry of Magic for centuries. Even among 5X-level magical creatures, the Five-legged Beast was far less famous than dragons, Cerberus, or Acromantulas. Most records were old, fragmented, and questionable. Still, among the vast amount of material, there had to be something worthwhile. Robert simply needed to be patient.
He left the library with a few books in hand, lost in thought about his plans. That was when a figure appeared before him.
The first thing Robert noticed was her pink hair. Then her rebellious attire: patched jeans, a Weird Sisters band t-shirt, and just a hint of smoky eye makeup. She exuded a casual, unconventional charm.
Her dark, shining eyes met his gaze, and a smile spread across her face as she extended her hand.
"Hello, I'm Nymphadora Tonks," she said. "I just graduated from Hufflepuff, so I guess that makes me your senior. The Hufflepuffs told me you'd be either in the library or the Little Greenhouse. Seems they were right—I finally found you."
Robert raised an eyebrow, surprised. He recognized her immediately. In the original timeline, Tonks had been an Auror for the Ministry of Magic and a member of the Order of the Phoenix, known for her Animagus abilities and her relationship with Lupin. But he hadn't expected her to appear here, of all places, for him.
Then it clicked. At this moment, what else would a young Auror like Tonks be doing at Hogwarts, if not investigating Umbridge's death? A faint sympathy flickered in Robert's eyes. A freshly graduated girl assigned such a dangerous task—it seemed unfortunate, yet she appeared enthusiastic.
Robert shook his head subtly and extended his hand. "Robert Sprout," he said calmly. "Hello, Senior. But I imagine you didn't come here just to exchange pleasantries. Shall we talk while we walk? I have many things to do."
Tonks studied him, her brow furrowing slightly. This Hufflepuff was far too composed. Was it an act, or was he truly unconcerned? Moments later, she relaxed. Whether he was feigning composure or genuinely transparent, she was a trained Auror. If a first-year Hufflepuff could still hide something from her, her training would have been in vain.
As they walked, Tonks lamented the changes at Hogwarts and in Hufflepuff, occasionally interrupting with questions.
"Do you remember Umbridge?" she asked abruptly. "She died recently. Did she ever come looking for you again?"
Robert, unbothered, replied, "That toad, of course I remember her. She's dead; the Daily Prophet reports it every day. Frankly, it's a good thing. On the day she died, I was busy, and many people saw me. Besides, I'm just a first-year wizard. Do you think I could take down a high-ranking Ministry official?"
He gave her a subtle jab. "Nymphadora, Senior—are you reminiscing as my senior or interrogating me as an Auror? Feels more like the latter. The Ministry really does change people. Even Hufflepuff students become like this once they join. How long have you been in the ranks? Already forgotten Hufflepuff's traditions completely."
Tonks's face flushed crimson. Robert, seemingly unconcerned, walked to the entrance of the Little Greenhouse and said coldly, "Nymphadora Auror, I have nothing to say regarding your questions. If there's nothing else, I have plants to tend to."
Tonks clenched her teeth but produced an envelope. "Minister Fudge asked me to deliver this. He said it contains what you requested."
Robert's eyes lit up. He had expected the land reclamation permit to take days, but here it was already. Excited, he tore open the envelope in the Little Greenhouse.
"I wonder what grade Fudge issued," Robert mused. "The lowest used to be one acre. Next, ten acres. The largest ever issued—150 acres, over a century ago. Since my contract was reviewed by Dumbledore, Fudge shouldn't be stingy. Maybe ten acres?"
He opened the document, froze, and rubbed his eyes.
"No upper limit?" he whispered. "Does this mean I can reclaim any amount of land? And the Ministry covers protective magic and Floo network connections? Merlin, this is brilliant!"
Robert's heart raced. This permit meant more than any mythical item. Reclaiming land allowed immediate, tangible results, giving him confidence for years to come.
He pulled out a map of the North Scotland Highlands and nearby islands. Initially, he thought finding ten acres would be easy, but now he needed strategy. Mainland areas were unsuitable: harsh climates, disrupted by roads and railways, and expensive to protect with Greenhouses.
Instead, he turned to the islands. Ocean currents made some warmer, humid, and perfect for planting. Many islands were uninhabited, far from shipping lanes. Even weak protective magic could keep wandering Muggles away. Islands also offered enclosed ecosystems, minimizing cultivation variables.
Decision made, Robert mounted his Nimbus 2000 and flew over the Black Lake into the North Atlantic—or Bodhill Sea, as the magical world called it. Islands ranged from tiny reefs to areas larger than a dozen Hogwartses.
He meticulously observed each, landing occasionally to study climate, soil composition, and water distribution. Impulsive choices could ruin years of work if the soil was unsuitable. Experience in research had taught him this lesson well.
Unseen, Tonks followed at a distance, her suspicion growing. Robert noticed her immediately but remained calm. She could follow all she wanted; the Ministry would eventually know of his reclamation. He simply hoped she wouldn't interfere.
Hours passed. Robert's notebook filled with data: climate, temperature, humidity, soil composition, vegetation, and plant suitability. Even if he didn't choose these islands for primary cultivation, the information was invaluable for Herbology practice. Real masters couldn't be made in Greenhouses alone; surveying the wild was essential.
By evening, the sun dipped below the sea, and Robert decided to pause. Flying at night was risky; magical ocean creatures were sensitive to magic. He marked the explored islands and returned to Hogwarts, satisfied.
Tonks, drenched, wind-battered, and sunburned, was far from thrilled. She couldn't comprehend what Robert was doing. Circling the islands all day? Was he mocking her? Exhausted, she trailed him back, determined to continue following despite her fatigue.
Robert, oblivious to her resentment, returned to the library that night. Over the next days, he maintained a strict routine: island exploration by day, research in the library by night. His notebook grew with valuable information and potential island coordinates.
Tonks, meanwhile, was near exhaustion after several sleepless days. When Robert passed her one morning, he stopped and asked lightly, "Senior, how long has it been since you washed those wet clothes? Go take a shower instead of following me today."
Her face turned beet red, realizing he had known all along and, in effect, noticed her odor. Embarrassed, she hurried off, leaving Robert amused.
Just then, a letter arrived from Hagrid:
"Robert, come quickly. Something important has happened!"
Concerned, Robert hurried to Hagrid's hut. Upon entering, he froze. Charred marks littered the interior, and Hagrid held a giggling Norbert.
"Robert! Norbert can breathe fire now!" Hagrid exclaimed, tears in his eyes. "I've dreamed of raising dragons since I was little, and now I'm seeing it happen. I've raised Acromantulas, Dragons, Cerberus, Five-legged Beasts… even fed a Horned Serpent and a Swooping Evil in America. There aren't many 5X-level creatures left I haven't touched!"
Robert's eyes widened. "Hagrid—you raised a Five-legged Beast?!"
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