[You practiced flying with Expert Level Skill. Proficiency +50]
[A new flying domain title has been unlocked]
Leaving the Quidditch pitch, his flying skill had surpassed [Beginner] and become [Experienced],
Sean naturally opened the panel:
[Title: Intermediate Flyer]
[Greatly increased perception of broom magic, significantly enhanced flying talent, slightly improved short bursts of flight power]
Sean held the Firebolt 2000, still feeling a little unreal.
Something that had worried him for so long had come into his hands in this incredible way.
Professor McGonagall was as warm as the old lady who often visited the orphanage, who would always bring pudding to Sean in his sickbed.
Sean admired her just as he admired the professor.
For a moment, he truly felt that Hogwarts was… home.
In the corridor, Sean suddenly heard a strange sound, like a young boy quietly sobbing.
At the end of the corridor, Neville Longbottom curled into a ball, leaning against the cold stone wall.
The rough texture of the stone pressed through his robes against his shoulders, but he barely felt it, because a sharper pain spread from his heart, choking his throat.
Tears fell uncontrollably, scalding and frightening.
He bit his lower lip hard, trying to stop the shameful sobs, tasting only the salty tears and a deeper shame.
Yesterday's scene in Charms class replayed over and over in his mind—he nervously waved his wand, spoke the levitation spell, and instead a blinding uncontrolled flash shot out, hitting the unprepared Professor Flitwick precisely.
He watched helplessly as the small professor's body was tossed into the air, crashing into the bookshelf behind, feathers and parchment scattering everywhere.
In that moment, the world seemed to freeze.
Yet when Professor Flitwick got up, he simply brushed the dust off his robes, without a single word of reproach.
But that tolerance and patience felt like the heaviest stone pressing on Neville's heart.
He didn't deserve such kindness.
He was a fool, someone who couldn't even master the simplest spells and might hurt a professor.
Just like the Slytherins had said…
He buried his face deep in his knees, shoulders trembling violently.
At that moment, hesitant footsteps echoed softly in the empty corridor, stopping not far away.
Neville held his breath, hoping to become invisible.
The person seemed to observe him for a few seconds, then the footsteps moved again, lighter, slower, approaching cautiously.
Finally, they stopped a short distance away and slowly crouched down.
'Longbottom?'
Michael held a book. In fact, he had important things to do today, but seeing this boy crying, he couldn't just ignore it.
'Mistakes with spells are normal. Didn't Professor Flitwick say nothing was wrong?'
Neville nearly cried out again.
Michael panicked, blurting out:
'It's just learning spells! Alright, I'll tell you a secret—Go down this corridor to the spiral staircase from the second floor to the third. At the end of the first corridor, wait there, and you'll discover how Mr. Finley progresses so quickly.'
After speaking, he smacked his forehead in frustration.
Damn it, this was a secret he had observed for a long time and planned to use himself, hoping to startle Sean.
'What?'
Neville couldn't process it immediately.
'Just go!'
Michael stuffed a slip of paper into Neville's hand,
'Don't look at the paper.'
With that, he left Neville alone, standing there in a daze.
The note contained only:
[Sean, please, please, teach him. Your spellwork is the best. I've observed—Mr. Longbottom just lacks confidence. With you, the top-performing young wizard, I guarantee he can master the Levitation Charm in thirty minutes— I am willing to offer all my pudding for this. —Your faithful: Michael]
Sean stood at the junction of two corridors,
hearing this conversation clearly.
He silently adjusted his route to the classroom, since Michael had gotten the last part of the path wrong.
…
Sean often heard the Slytherins mock Neville; even in Gryffindor, he was rarely popular.
Yet his magical talent did not seem weak.
'Th-thank you, Mr. Green, thank you, thank you, and Michael…'
Neville's eyes were misty, as if Sean had done something extraordinary.
In reality, Sean had merely given him his notes and emphasized a few points, and Neville naturally performed the Levitation Charm;
they hadn't even reached the end of the second corridor.
What Sean didn't notice was that, as Mr. Longbottom left with gratitude, two pairs of eyes appeared behind the sky-blue door crack.
Sean, meanwhile, opened the classroom door.
A single glance made his eyes carry a hint of doubt:
'Changing seats is allowed too…'
His words made Justin and Hermione, who had hurriedly sat down, jump up with a 'whoosh' and blush as they moved to their own seats.
Damn, that was too rushed just now…
Sean pondered, then resumed practicing spells as usual:
'Accio—Quill!'
He spoke the incantation precisely, and the quill rose gently into his hand.
[You practiced Summoning Charm with Experienced Level Skill. Proficiency +10]
[You practiced Summoning Charm with Experienced Level Skill. Proficiency +10]
…
Sean collapsed into his chair, 'glug glug' drinking the potion.
Then he opened the panel:
[Summoning Charm: Beginner (3/900)]
[Water Making Charm: Beginner (2/900)]
[Levitation Charm: Beginner (200/900)]
Next, he only needed to grind the Levitation Charm's proficiency to meet Professor Flitwick's requirements.
Sean looked at the stool with obvious wood knots, contemplating the possibility of making it float.
But before his energy fully recovered, the first class of the afternoon was about to begin.
It was Wednesday.
Ravenclaw's first class in the afternoon was Herbology.
By this time, the greenhouse was already quiet.
The young wizards who usually gathered there had disappeared.
Even Hufflepuffs rarely persisted in the greenhouse to complete repetitive tasks.
The growth of magical plants could not be accomplished in a day; once the novelty faded, few had the passion to sustain the work.
Due to certain "professor-attacking" incidents, even Neville, who usually stayed in the greenhouse, was nowhere to be seen.
Professor Sprout looked at the empty Greenhouse One; even her usually gentle smile carried a hint of disappointment.
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