"Merlin, why is this happening? Just because it's… strange?" Confusion flickered in Justin's light gray eyes.
At that moment, a fierce gust of wind blew outside, causing the magical lantern Justin had hung on the wall to sway violently.
He nudged Sean and Hermione, pulling them out of their immersion.
Hermione frowned, puffed her cheeks, about to say something, but then she saw Justin, dumbfounded, pointing outside.
By the three-sided, ancient castle walls, a figure streaked toward the castle like lightning.
It passed through the open fan-shaped window, bringing a roaring gust of wind.
The tip of the broom glimmered in the sunlight.
"Because it's… cool, I guess I understand now."
Justin's murmur drifted away with the wind, but the eagerness in his eyes was undeniable.
"Stop thinking about it, Justin… First-year students are strictly forbidden from flying on brooms without permission. Haven't you memorized the school rules?"
Hermione's soft words shattered the blond boy's fantasy.
"Ah?!" Justin froze in surprise, like a half-log stuck in place.
"Don't tell me you came to school without learning the rules," Hermione said, her focus not on the older student who had just flown by, but on the bewildered little Hufflepuff. "Good heavens, if you haven't memorized the rules, how can you be sure you won't break them?"
"I… I don't know… I thought Hogwarts wouldn't be that strict…"
Justin hesitated, subconsciously glancing at Sean.
"Sean, have you memorized the rules?"
"Yes."
Sean's nod dimmed Justin's eyes completely.
In fact, to ensure he could stay at Hogwarts, Sean had memorized the school rules backward and forward.
Hermione was right: first-year students are forbidden to fly on brooms without permission, but with Madame Hooch's approval, it was a different matter.
Although few first-year students achieved this, hope always remained.
"Here… take this."
Hermione placed a brown-covered, gold-embossed book into Justin's hands. It was filled with precise notes.
The little Hufflepuff's dim eyes brightened again.
He held Hogwarts: A History and heard Hermione mutter softly, "Idiot."
"And besides, wizards don't use magical brooms just to look cool…"
Hermione flipped through The Magical Quidditch Ball, and the three heads leaned together again.
[Experience throughout history has taught wizards that if their Muggle neighbors learned all their secrets, those Muggles would try to exploit their abilities. So if wizards want a flying tool at home, it must be something cautious, something easily hidden. What happened next is obvious to everyone.]
"So that's why they chose brooms?"
Justin hadn't expected that answer, but he soon nodded, understanding.
"If my neighbors were wizards, I wouldn't be able to resist wanting to know about them either."
Afternoon sunlight slanted through the fan-shaped window, cutting the small classroom into a warm space of light and shadow.
Specks of dust floated slowly in the beams, like countless tiny golden sprites, then suddenly trembled.
The three Quidditch enthusiasts were startled as loud knocking came from outside the wall again.
"Oh! It's Ernie. If he's knocking on the wall next door, it means he'll be waiting for me in the Great Hall."
Justin snapped awake and whispered to Sean,
"It's about Professor Snape. I had Ernie help out a bit. After all, Mother said, there's strength in unity."
Sean nodded thoughtfully, and the two bid Hermione farewell and left the classroom.
Justin added, "Don't worry, Hermione. I won't tell anyone where this classroom is. It's our secret!"
Immersed in her reading, Hermione seemed unconcerned. Once Sean and Justin left, her eyes glistened slightly.
In the Great Hall, a short, chubby blond boy fidgeted nervously, holding a book but unable to keep his eyes off the entrance.
"Alright, Finley asked me to wait here. He'll come, I just need to focus on Friday's flying lesson instead of worrying."
"Ernie!"
Justin scanned the hall and spotted the boy at the Hufflepuff long table.
"Justin!"
The short, chubby boy responded instantly, and Justin, with Sean, hurried over.
Seeing the familiar face, Sean recalled many details.
Ernie Macmillan.
A ninth-generation pure-blood Hufflepuff, sincere and earnest.
He had once mistakenly believed Harry was a Slytherin heir, but after Hermione was petrified, he realized Harry was innocent and publicly apologized, which Harry accepted.
What impressed Sean most was during the Battle of Hogwarts, when Professor McGonagall told Ernie, as the prefect:
"Upon receiving my command, organize your house students and escort them orderly to the evacuation points."
Ernie Macmillan had unusually asked seriously:
"What if we want to stay and fight?"
…
Ernie brought delightful news: Professor Snape would be grading assignments today and had already been in his office for some time.
Sean immediately gathered his brewing tools and ingredients from the classroom and set off for the dungeons.
Why he insisted on brewing in the dungeons was simple: first-year students aren't allowed to take cauldrons out.
If it were allowed, Hogwarts would likely have countless explosive experts.
Potions is not a safe subject, much like chemistry experiments needing a lab.
Such dangerous activities cannot be done casually.
Thin wisps of white smoke rose from the cauldron again. Sean focused intently, hands moving continuously. Soon, the cauldron bubbled vigorously.
The dungeon was filled only with faint breathing and the sound of boiling.
By the time Professor Snape left his office and entered the dungeon, Sean had already achieved a skill level of three and left satisfied.
Master Libatius Borage was right: without sufficient mental fortitude, the refinement ritual cannot be completed.
Since his last brewing, Sean's fatigue had lingered—inside and out. According to Master Borage's estimate, it would last at least five days.
Even while waiting for full recovery, Sean did not idle. If one word could describe his actions, it would be:
He was playing hide-and-seek with Professor Snape.