Chapter 237: Garlic Allen

Allen carefully sensed the bud on his back; suddenly, he felt as if he had gained a new pair of limbs, and he could control them with great agility.

He vaguely realized what it was—he carefully guided the limbs forward, and sure enough, he saw a pair of green vines extend before his eyes.

He now definitively confirmed that the bud on his back was identical to the bud on a Pokémon’s Bulbasaur.

This outcome seemed unexpected, yet it made perfect sense—after his talent upgraded, he had fully aligned himself with Pokémon, though it didn’t seem like a bad thing.

Allen idly swayed the vines behind him; they were strong and flexible, yet their shape grew stranger the longer he stared.

As a child watching cartoons, he had liked Bulbasaur and envied how useful its vines were; he never thought the vine tips looked odd. But after growing up and watching some dark tentacle-themed anime, certain scenes had left a deep impression, making it impossible for him to view his own vines with innocent eyes anymore.

To be honest, with the vines’ flexibility and resilience, they could truly replicate some of those dark tentacle anime scenes...

Allen quickly banished that terrifying (and fun) thought from his mind—it was truly a childhood-destroying idea.

He got out of bed and stood before the dormitory mirror, studying the bud; the real-world bud was far more beautiful than its cartoon counterpart, adorned with intricate, elegant patterns.

Suddenly, a cry came from behind him: “Ah—it’s you, Allen! Why do you have a green... uh... garlic growing from your back?”

Allen didn’t need to turn around—he knew only Ron could spit out a comment like that.

“Guess!” Allen snapped.

“Is this your upgraded talent?” Ron walked over and patted the bud curiously. “It really feels like a plant—can your talent now manifest actual plants?”

“I don’t know. I’m going to have the professors take a look later,” Allen shrugged. Today’s transformation couldn’t be hidden, and he no longer wanted to try.

His other roommates gradually woke up and reacted with calm indifference to Allen’s appearance—after years of witnessing his bizarre transformations, they were utterly desensitized.

Allen considered what to wear. He immediately abandoned the idea of covering the bud—it would only look worse, and drawing attention to it would provoke curiosity. Besides, he felt the bud was comfortable under sunlight; he remembered Bulbasaur’s bud had magical effects in the sun, so he decided not to cover it.

In the end, he stuck with his old method—he cut a large hole in the back of his robe, and would repair it with a mending charm before bed.

He stepped outside, and naturally, gasps and exclamations followed him—he was already used to it.

After breakfast, he hurried to Professor McGonagall’s office. She was uncertain about his transformation and immediately summoned Professor Sprout and Mr. Scamander.

Mr. Scamander hadn’t returned to his estate yet; he planned to stay briefly at Hogwarts, primarily to observe Allen’s condition.

They carefully examined Allen.

“This bud has never appeared in any recorded text,” Professor Sprout declared confidently, offering her expert opinion.

Mr. Scamander held a magnifying glass, closely inspecting the bud on Allen’s back.

After a long while, he spoke: “I’ve found vein-like structures connecting the bud to Allen’s back—it appears the bud is symbiotic with him.”

“That’s a fascinating discovery,” Mr. Scamander said with interest.

“Mandrake roots may resemble humans, but they’re fundamentally plants,” Professor Sprout added.

“This seems to be another previously unknown magical creature. The bud gives off a soothing aura—I’d love to see what it looks like when it blooms,” Mr. Scamander said cheerfully.

Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout nodded in keen interest.

“It’ll surely be beautiful!” Professor McGonagall chimed in. “Regardless, this is unprecedented in the history of wizarding transfiguration.”

“I think I brought that little fellow along—let him take a look at your bud,” Mr. Scamander suddenly remembered.

He cast the Summoning Charm, and a suitcase flew toward him. He opened it—the interior had been enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm, allowing half his body to vanish inside.

Moments later, he stood upright again, green leaves now resting atop his hat.

No—they weren’t leaves. They were a Bowtruckle, no larger than a palm, with long, sharp fingers on each hand, brown eyes, and a body seemingly woven from bark and twigs, crowned by two green leaves.

At first, the Bowtruckle seemed dazed, but the moment it saw Allen’s bud, it became ecstatic. It sprinted off Mr. Scamander’s hat, scrambled up Allen’s pant leg, and clung tightly to the bud, eyes gleaming, inhaling its scent with rapt devotion—it clearly adored the bud’s aroma.

Allen froze, afraid to move, terrified he might shake the Bowtruckle loose.

“Only one magical creature is known to form symbiosis with plants—and clearly, it adores your bud,” Mr. Scamander said warmly.

They debated for a long time but reached no conclusion.

They settled on taking a sample. Professor Sprout performed the procedure—she was ruthless, peeling off a layer of the bud. Fortunately, Allen felt no pain, but the Bowtruckle, still clinging to the bud, flew into a rage, hissing and flailing its fingers at her.

Allen quickly soothed it.

Allen was about to head to class, but the Bowtruckle refused to leave the bud.

“Let it stay with you today!” Mr. Scamander suddenly said. “It hasn’t been this happy in years. Just bring it back to me tomorrow when your bud disappears.”

Allen looked at the Bowtruckle, still clinging tightly to the bud, and reluctantly agreed.

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