Chapter 327: Oscillation Stacking, Compounding Exponentially [bonus]
Before long two young people came over from the greenhouses, hauling stones and odds and ends.
A man and a woman, both early twenties, in heavy work robes with the cuffs rolled, dragonhide gloves on their hands.
Agnes's apprentices. Young wizards who'd come to work the plantation after leaving school, or the children of Black family employees to begin with. Raised working the family's chain of estates, packed off to Hogwarts for a few years, then funneled back into the same system on the way out.
The man carried a basket of stones, granite, sandstone, marble, all different sizes and none of them light, his teeth gritted as he hauled it. Maybe to look like he was suffering, he hadn't even bothered with a Wingardium Leviosa.
The woman lugged a wooden board and an old iron pot, the bottom of the pot burned black, a strip of cloth wound around the handle.
They set the things down at the edge of the clearing. The man wiped his face and threw a glance toward the willow, branches still swinging overhead, and took a few steps back.
The woman dropped the pot to the ground and, straightening, looked at Regulus.
Her gaze lingered on him a moment, traveling from his face to his robe to the spider perched on his shoulder, then slid away, the corner of her mouth dipping faintly.
The little Black heir. Second year. He wanted two Whomping Willows.