Chapter 120: Come to Me

In the corridor.

Wizard Sean glanced curiously a few more times at Sir Cadogan; the knight had his back turned, still attempting to mount that short pony.

It seemed nothing was wrong.

"Little Green, you always look rather unwell."

Lady Violet blinked, asking with curiosity,

"Today, is it Charms, Potions, or Transfiguration?"

"Transfiguration."

Wizard Sean answered honestly.

Then he glanced at Sir Cadogan once more.

The knight seemed fine; it appeared Professor Snape was rather... lenient with portraits?

Just as Wizard Sean relaxed and prepared to leave, a woman's voice, stifling laughter, rang out:

"There, my dear knight, little Green has gone."

Only then did the knight in the portrait slowly turn around—his front was entirely different from his back.

His polished plate armor was dented into unnatural curves from chest to abdomen, his nasal guard beaten askew to the left,

and the red ostrich feather that usually stood proudly atop his steel helmet was now only half its length, limp and dripping muddy water.

His face was nothing short of a disaster scene:

his left eye swollen to a mere slit, his right eye bulging wide, his beard matted into stiff clumps by some slime, with suspicious mushroom fragments clinging to it.

"What are you looking at!"

His voice was hoarse yet loud, his eyes glaring at the young wizards outside the frame,

"Have you never seen the medals of victory?!"

But when those few young wizards circled to the side of the frame, they couldn't help but burst into giggles.

Sir Cadogan's back presented a completely different sight—his silver-blue cloak was spotless, not a single mud stain on it, the velvet fabric smooth as new;

the plate armor on his back was so polished it could reflect the furrowed brow of Hermione Granger as she hurried past;

even the tassel on the longsword strapped behind him had been intricately braided, swaying elegantly with his movements.

"Hahaha—Knight, you really went through a lot—"

Lady Violet laughed until she could hardly close her mouth.

"Despicable troll! Ganging up on me!"

Sir Cadogan growled in frustration, startling a first-year student into falling onto the floor,

"And that despicable..."

The knight looked left and right, and upon seeing nothing, muttered a few words under his breath.

With the aid of Professor Snape's potions, Wizard Sean's progress in Charms was remarkably fast;

where he previously needed long rests before practicing spells again, he could now recover half his strength in just half an hour.

"Aguamenti!"

As Wizard Sean's wand traced the arc of flowing water, a stream of clear water followed the tip of his wand,

and although it didn't last long, the ability to Making Guide the water meant his proficiency had increased again.

[You practiced the Water-Making Spell once to the standard of a Skilled Hand, Proficiency +10]

Wizard Sean silently checked his panel:

[Summoning Charm: Apprentice Level (3/300)]

[Water-Making Spell: Entry Level (2/900)]

[Levitation Charm: Entry Level (200/900)]

There was hope that by tomorrow, he could grind the Summoning Charm up to Entry Level as well;

thinking of this, the corners of Wizard Sean's mouth lifted.

"Aguamenti!"

A robust female voice rang out; water also appeared at the tip of Hermione's wand,

"It seems making the arc slightly larger does indeed improve the effect..."

She drew the curve of the arc one-to-one into her notebook, while her other hand guided a quill that trembled slightly, noting the pronunciation details Wizard Sean had added.

Afterward, Hermione lifted her nose high and looked over at Justin, who was still practicing.

"My mother says every stream has its own direction,"

Justin said gently with a smile, not at all bothered by his slow progress,

"but guess what the result is? They all return to the sea."

His words made Hermione blush slightly; the little witch turned her head away:

"Fine, it seems you can manage on your own."

"No, my mother means that all the rivers in the world will reunite; Hermione, would you be willing to help a stranded stream?"

Justin held up his wand, looking as though he desperately needed help.

Hermione puffed out her cheeks but moved closer nonetheless:

"Hmph—your stress accents are all wrong!"

Wednesday.

The vaulted ceiling of the Great Hall at Hogwarts still reflected the pale purple light of dawn.

Thousands of candles hung suspended in midair, casting a warm glow.

The four long tables were already bustling with noise.

First-years in their pajamas rubbed their sleepy eyes, nearly pouring pumpkin juice into their porridge;

two Hufflepuff girls huddled together studying Transfiguration notes, jam smearing onto the ends of their hair;

laughter suddenly erupted from the Ravenclaw table, where someone had made a copy of Magical History dance a tap routine.

Owls were diving down from high above like a rain of feathers, delivering numerous parcels and newspapers such as the Daily Prophet.

There were unusually many messengers today.

Consequently, more than ten owls gathered around Wizard Sean's table alone;

Wizard Sean speculated

that perhaps owls exchanged secrets among themselves, otherwise the number of owls coming to beg for food wouldn't increase every time.

So, while battling his meal, he waved his wand, tearing apart the toast on his table, sending nuts and bits of meat flying to the feathers of the exhausted messengers.

Hermione received an unusually large number of letters today;

as she opened them, they revealed numerous books, exquisite quills, or various candies.

Even her tone of speech today had softened considerably, and the thing she did most was write letters with great care.

Justin did not appear in the Great Hall,

for he had been busy in the kitchens these past two days.

In fact, last time Hermione urgently needed to send a letter, he had sent his own owl to help her, thereby accidentally learning a piece of news—

tomorrow was the little witch's birthday.

So, after quietly gathering a bit of information, he had been practically fighting a battle in the kitchens.

Incidentally, he asked casually, as if by accident:

"Wizard Sean, oh, I mean, what about you?"

Wizard Sean fell silent for a moment, then shook his head.

He didn't know.

For an orphan who grew up in an orphanage, the day they were found was considered their birthday,

but unfortunately, the caretaker who had found Wizard Sean could no longer endure the meager salary and had left.

Moreover, the orphanage hadn't celebrated birthdays for the orphans in a long time,

so knowing one's actual date of birth had become a luxury.

However, what Wizard Sean failed to notice was that when he shook his head,

Justin was completely stunned where he stood.

In the Great Hall,

every long table was visited by owls.

As Hermione opened her letters and pulled out a plush doll, annoyance flashed across her face,

yet she seemed helplessly, ever so carefully, placed the doll into her bag.

In contrast, Wizard Sean's pile of letters was unusually empty.

Wizard Sean didn't mind at all; while battling his lamb chops, he pondered the possibility of having the twins "adventure" to bring back a broomstick,

with the effort put into brewing potions these past few days, it might still be possible to scrape together one hundred Jin Jin Jialong to buy a Nimbus 1500.

Though he would have to consider the cost of hiring the twins...

Just as Wizard Sean's thoughts drifted,

an owl that looked particularly spirited clutched a letter and landed before Wizard Sean.

When Wizard Sean gently offered it a small piece of lamb chop, it instead placed the letter directly into Wizard Sean's hand.

Wizard Sean fell silent for a moment,

he remembered being an orphan, didn't he? What the hell was this?

Fortunately, he had already encountered enough "ghosts" at Hogwarts.

So he opened the envelope:

[This is indeed your letter, so come to me, child.

—Minerva McGonagall]