The corridor.
Sean glanced curiously at Sir Cadogan, who had his back to him and was still struggling to climb onto the small horse.
It didn't seem like there was any real problem.
"Little Green, you always look a bit pale."
Mrs. Violet blinked, curiosity in her eyes.
"Today's lesson—Charms, Potions, or Transfiguration?"
"Transfiguration."
Sean answered honestly, then glanced at Sir Cadogan again.
The knight seemed fine, it appeared Professor Snape was… more lenient with portraits?
Just as Sean relaxed and turned to leave, a muffled giggle echoed from the painting:
"All right, my dear knight, Little Green has gone."
Only then did Sir Cadogan slowly turn around—his front looked completely different from his back.
The polished plate armor from chest to abdomen was unnaturally dented; his nasal guard was crooked to the left.
The red ostrich plume that normally crowned his steel helmet now drooped halfway, dripping mud and water.
His face was a disaster:
The left eye swollen shut to a slit, the right eye wide and round, beard stiffened in clumps with some sticky substance, dotted with suspicious mushroom fragments.
"What are you staring at?!"
His voice was hoarse but still loud, glaring at the students outside the frame.
"Never seen a medal of victory?!"
But when the students circled to the side of the frame, they couldn't help but snicker.
From the back, Sir Cadogan looked completely different—his silver-blue cloak unmarked by a single speck of mud, the velvet smooth as new.
The armor on his back gleamed so brightly that it reflected Hermione Granger's furrowed brow as she hurried past.
Even the tassel on his long sword was carefully braided, swinging elegantly with his movements.
"Hahaha—Sir, you've been through quite the ordeal—"
Mrs. Violet laughed so hard she could barely speak.
"Despicable giant! Using numbers to your advantage!"
Sir Cadogan growled in frustration, scaring a first-year into collapsing onto the floor.
"And despicable…"
He looked left and right, muttering a few words to himself when he saw nothing.
…
Thanks to Professor Snape's help with potions, Sean's progress in Charms was rapid.
Where he used to need long breaks before practicing spells again, now he could recover half his stamina in just thirty minutes.
"Agua—men—ti!"
As Sean's wand traced the arc of flowing water, a stream followed the tip.
Though it didn't last long, being able to guide the flow meant his proficiency increased.
[You practiced a Water-Making Charm with Experienced Level Skill. Proficiency +10]
Sean quietly checked his panel:
[Summoning Charm: Apprentice (3/300)]
[Water-Making Charm: Beginner (2/900)]
[Floating Charm: Beginner (200/900)]
There was hope to reach beginner level for the Summoning Charm by tomorrow.
Thinking that, Sean's lips curved into a small smile.
"Agua—men—ti!"
A strong female voice sounded, and Hermione's wand tip also traced a stream of water.
"Looks like increasing the arc a bit really helps…"
She copied the arc curve into her notebook, while another quill trembled as Sean added the pronunciation details.
Then Hermione raised her nose, looking toward Justin, who was still practicing.
"My mother says every little stream has its own flow direction," Justin smiled gently, unconcerned about his slow progress.
"But you know what happens in the end? They all flow into the sea."
His words made Hermione blush, and the little witch turned her head:
"Alright, seems you've got it too."
"No, my mother meant that all the rivers of the world eventually reunite. Hermione, would you help a stranded little stream?" Justin held up his wand, looking as if he desperately needed help.
Hermione puffed out her cheeks but leaned over anyway:
"Hmph—your accents are all wrong!"
…
Wednesday.
The dome of Hogwarts' Great Hall still reflected pale purple daylight.
Thousands of candles floated midair, casting a warm glow.
The four long tables were already bustling.
First-years in pajamas rubbed their sleepy eyes, nearly pouring pumpkin juice into their cereal; two Hufflepuff girls huddled over Transfiguration notes, their hair tips smeared with jam; Suddenly, laughter erupted from the Ravenclaw table—someone had made their History of Magic textbook perform a tap dance.
Owls swooped down from high above, like a rain of feathers, carrying packages and newspapers such as the Daily Prophet.
There were unusually many messengers today.
Even the owls on Sean's desk numbered more than ten.
He guessed that perhaps owls shared secrets among themselves; otherwise, the visiting owls wouldn't keep increasing each time.
So while battling, Sean waved his wand; toast on the desk was torn apart, nuts and bits of meat flying to the feathers of the tired messenger owls.
Hermione received an unusually large number of letters today.
As she opened them, she found plenty of books, elegant quills, and some candies.
Her tone of voice had softened considerably as well, and she spent most of her time writing diligently.
Justin wasn't in the Great Hall because he had been busy in the kitchen the past two days.
In fact, when Hermione urgently needed to send letters last time, he had sent his owls to help her deliver them, and incidentally learned a piece of information—Tomorrow was the little witch's birthday.
So after quietly gathering some information, he had been working almost nonstop in the kitchen.
Along the way, he casually asked:
"Sean, oh, I mean, what about you?"
Sean paused for a moment, then shook his head.
He didn't know.
For an orphan growing up in an orphanage, the day they were found was effectively their birthday.
Unfortunately, the caretaker who had found Sean had left due to the meager pay.
On top of that, the orphanage hadn't celebrated birthdays for a long time,
so knowing one's own birthdate became a luxury.
But what Sean didn't notice was that Justin froze completely when he shook his head.
In the Great Hall, every long table had visiting owls.
Hermione opened her letters, and when she pulled out a plush toy, her face showed a mix of annoyance and helplessness as she carefully placed it in her bag.
But at Sean's desk, there was a rare emptiness among the letters.
He didn't mind. While fighting the lamb-shaped puzzle, he considered sending the twins on an "adventure" to bring back a broom.
With a few days of hard potion brewing, he might just be able to gather a hundred Galleons to buy a Nimbus 1500.
But he still had to factor in the twins' fee…
Just as Sean's thoughts drifted, an owl, looking exceptionally spirited, landed in front of him, carrying a letter.
When Sean offered a small piece of the lamb-shaped puzzle, the owl placed the letter directly into his hand.
Sean paused, remembering that he was an orphan—so this was… what the hell?
Fortunately, he had already seen enough "ghosts" at Hogwarts.
He opened the envelope:
Come to see me, child.
—Minerva McGonagall
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