Chapter 127: The Letter

Wizard Sean was silently reviewing the contents of his notebook.

Professor Sprout had not only taught him how to process southern ginger but also instructed him on handling wood sorrel, shrub wormwood, and aloe juice.

These were all herbal ingredients required for the Swelling Solution; because of this, Wizard Sean felt very confident about brewing the potion tonight.

Combined with the improved ritual and willpower guidance, he could brew at least a [Proficient]-level Swelling Solution.

Yes, proficient the moment he learned it.

This made his steps even lighter.

Until—

"Hogsmeade Weekend is still a month away... Oh, actually, it was only on my second visit to Hogsmeade Village that I realized this is the only place in Britain without any Muggles—"

A familiar voice said.

"Mm-hmm."

Wizard Sean saw that it was Senior Leon answering.

"What are you planning to buy at Honeydukes this time?"

Senior Leon raised an eyebrow.

"If you dare go in there to buy broomstick cleaner again, you can go in by yourself."

"Hehe—"

Wizard Sean roughly guessed who it was.

"Clearly they have everything there... Pepper Imps—they make your mouth smoke—and Chocolate Balls, filled entirely with strawberry cream and regular cream,

plus quills made of sugar, just like the ones you sucked on in class when Professor McGonagall wasn't looking, before getting thrown out of the classroom..."

Senior Leon said, looking down at Senior Bruce.

"But the moment you step inside, you ask people for broomstick cleaner, and if they don't give it to you, you secretly sprinkle itching powder on others..."

Hearing this, Wizard Sean's eyes widened slightly.

"Alright, alright, but I did provide the antidote, and I did get beaten with a broomstick—um—the weather is really nice today... Oh, Wizard Sean!"

Senior Bruce, as if he had eyes on the back of his head, turned around and waved at Wizard Sean.

Leon silently swallowed the words, "What about the beating that Pist and I took?"

Wizard Sean politely greeted the three seniors.

Just then, the bell rang; as Wizard Sean was preparing to head to the Great Hall for dinner, he heard Senior Bruce's amused voice:

"Oh, during the few days you were gone, dealing with the disasters caused by those little wizards consumed a huge amount of our time.

I often suspect they are also promising candidates for mischief; otherwise, how could they be even more rowdy than I was back then?"

Senior Bruce blinked his eyes.

Behind him, Leon and Pist nodded in deep agreement, though it was unclear which point they were agreeing with.

"This also made me realize one thing—you returned at just the right time."

Senior Bruce produced three servings of chocolate, raspberry, and crushed nut ice cream from who-knows-where,

shoved them into Wizard Sean's hands, and whispered:

"You'd never guess that I won a bet on you.

The Hufflepuff Handbook: sharing joy is precisely a crucial part of sharing—"

Thus, feeling somewhat bewildered, Wizard Sean entered the Great Hall carrying three servings of chocolate, raspberry, and crushed nut ice cream.

He always felt that Senior Bruce was hiding something from him, but given Bruce's train of thought—buying broomstick cleaner at Honeydukes and sprinkling itching powder on others if refused—

Wizard Sean found it hard to guess what he was up to.

Perhaps it was just as Senior Leon had once remarked:

"When there is danger, you can trust Bruce completely; but when there is no danger, you'd better stay far away from him."

Inside the Great Hall.

Hermione was still diligently writing her letter; expressions of sorrow and joy alternated on her face.

Beside her were some additional candies and notebooks, apparently newly delivered by the post owls.

"Wizard Sean, um, I mean."

She suddenly turned her head, and a serving of chocolate, raspberry, and crushed nut ice cream was shoved into her hand.

"Delicious."

Wizard Sean said this, then handed another serving to Jia Jia Siting beside him, who had stayed in the kitchen until he was somewhat mentally dazed.

Hermione stared blankly at the delicious ice cream on the table, then seemed to breathe a sigh of relief:

"Last time, I noticed you had run out of notebooks..."

Hermione finished speaking in one breath, and then the roast chicken in front of Wizard Sean was blocked by a mountain-high pile of notebooks.

The fireplace in the Great Hall always burned with a warm glow; Wizard Sean heard Hermione speak haltingly:

"You brought too few; I just happened to have extras..."

Then she buried herself in her letters and stopped looking at Wizard Sean.

Wizard Sean stood stunned for a few seconds; he saw that the blank pages inscribed with "Gifted to Miss Hermione Granger" had been torn out of the notebooks.

It seemed she had prepared them for a long time.

So when Jia Jia Siting secretly asked him in the classroom what else Hermione might like, he likewise pondered for a long time.

"Mature notes for the seven core subjects of Hogwarts."

Wizard Sean said.

"Mer—Merlin's beard—"

Jia Jia Siting, with a look of "I knew it," covered his forehead.

Then, belatedly realizing:

"Alright, I can't believe what I'm about to say—you are right, Wizard Sean."

So Wizard Sean stayed in the classroom for a while, mainly arranging a few things together with Jia Jia Siting and organizing and wrapping the notes.

Jia Jia Siting repeatedly guaranteed that Hermione would not enter the classroom today; Wizard Sean did not know what he had done.

Meanwhile, in the corridor.

Harry was quietly having Hedwig slip a letter describing the "Gringotts break-in incident" among the other post owls' deliveries to Hermione.

The dungeons.

Filled with enthusiasm, Wizard Sean, carrying a bag heavy with notes, turned the corner.

Just as he had not expected the flying broomstick to come from Professor McGonagall, he had not expected the shortage of notebooks to be resolved by Hermione.

Speaking of letters, he took out a yellowed sheet of paper from the innermost part of his bag.

This had been secretly passed to him by the old lady who often visited the orphanage; in the second week after receiving this letter, he learned of the kind elder's passing.

The letter paper in his hand was thick, as if made from some extremely tough material.

[Dear Wizard Sean:

Life will suddenly turn for the better at some moment; this is my little secret.

Please continue to do something, even the smallest thing; the gears of fate will slowly turn on their own.

My dear child, you must believe this.

Forever yours—Milan]

(A pressed dried violet rested on one corner of the letter paper)

He carefully put the letter away and entered the dungeons.

The dungeons were cold and dim; candles cast flickering shadows within the room.

Various glass jars were piled in the corner, containing strange biological organs floating and slowly rotating in viscous liquids.

Professor Snape's black robes swept across the dust-covered stone floor, like the wings of a bat unfolding.

When he once again saw that familiar handwriting, his gaze became complex.

The notebook was placed beside Wizard Sean; during every interval of brewing, he would find time to write down his records of the potion steps.

He had grown accustomed to constantly correcting and improving.

Until the wind flipped the notebook to a page filled with writing.

Professor Snape appeared not to care at all about Wizard Sean's brewing, yet his cold gaze had already swept over in an instant:

He saw only a few words, which were—The Use of the Nimbus 2000.