Chapter 155

It was a clear Thursday.

Professor McGonagall vanished; she did not show up at Hogwarts all day.

She even skipped her Transfiguration class, swapping schedules with Professor Snape, which drew miserable wails from the students.

Professor Snape’s mood hadn’t improved either; after some Slytherins suffered great misfortune, he deducted ten more points from Gryffindor for Harry misplacing an ingredient.

Even when Harry and Ron reached the Hope Hut, they were still complaining.

“I think he’s taking advantage of McGonagall’s absence—Merlin’s beard—I don’t even know who to complain to!”

“Prefect? Percy would just say: ‘Why does Professor Snape only punish you? Look for your own faults! Don’t give me any more trouble!’”

As they complained, they spotted Wizard Sean Green waiting by the door of the Hope Hut—this was not a common sight.

The Owl’s question was extremely difficult for them, but for Wizard Sean, solving it was as easy as eating and drinking.

“No! You! Not allowed in! Little wizard! Little wizard with misplaced affections!”

The Owl cried out.

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance, their complaints vanished, and they began stifling laughter—yet they didn’t notice Hermione, who had arrived with them, already frowning beside them.

At first they didn’t understand why, but after being scolded sharply by the Owl, they obediently stood aside:

“Little wizard! Foolish little wizard! Clumsy! Dull-witted! As stupid as Gryffindor! Unless you tell me one stupid thing Gryffindor did, you’ll wait!”

Justin, carrying some cookies, became everyone’s savior; he glanced at the line of students and smiled confidently:

“Let me handle this. If Godric Gryffindor were still alive, he’d be the giant squid in the Black Black Lake.”

He spoke with rhythmic cadence.

The Owl flapped its wings, and only then did they let them in.

Inside the hut.

Wizard Sean reinforced his knowledge of ancient runes, then packed his things and prepared to head to the dungeons to brew potions.

But he was blocked in the corridor by the Weasleys.

“Which cookie did you pick? Anyway, I bet you did well!”

Fred said cheerfully.

“You’re the great Green!”

George also looked excited.

“Oh—how can we ever repay you? If the Weasley Wizard Wheezes really opens, we’ll give you a share!”

Fred winked; his act of gratitude was overly theatrical.

“A little bit—of course, two percent! What do you think?”

George took over.

Wizard Sean sidestepped the twins and kept walking; if you started talking to them, you’d never know when the conversation would end.

“I bet you’re going to see a professor to engrave runes—oh no! Fred!”

George suddenly exclaimed, as if remembering something.

“I remember, George! Oh, oh, Merlin’s beard—we don’t know advanced Transfiguration, so—”

Fred suddenly ran over and blocked Wizard Sean.

“You’ve got to switch…”

George patted Wizard Sean’s shoulder in a flattering way.

Sometimes Wizard Sean couldn’t understand why the twins excelled in Alchemy yet never learned advanced Transfiguration.

He waved his wand; a small jar containing beetles opened, and the beetles transformed into an owl before their eyes.

“Merlin’s beard!”

Fred stared wide-eyed at George, his expression screaming: “Did we just hit the jackpot?”

“The great Green!”

George elbowed Fred, and both prepared to bow.

The twins were amusing; on the way to the dungeons, through bizarre tactics, they tricked Wizard Sean into giving them half-finished owl cookies.

Then they looked at Wizard Sean with strange eyes.

“If you need advanced knowledge of ancient runes for Transfiguration—”

“Why not ask us?”

“We got an ‘O’ in ancient runes!”

“We’re naturally gifted at this!”

Then they tossed Wizard Sean a book and vanished through a hidden passage behind a portrait.

One Hundred Ways to Prank Ron

Wizard Sean stood frozen.

What… is this?

“Wrong!”

At that moment, the twins reappeared, snatching the book and swapping it in a flash.

Engraving Techniques of Ancient Runes

Holding the swapped book, Wizard Sean silently opened the first page.

The more he read, the brighter his eyes grew.

The twins were truly alchemical geniuses; their mastery of ancient runes was also exceptional.

Wizard Sean was certain this was exactly what he’d been missing. When he reached the dungeons, his steps were noticeably lighter.

This scene caught Professor Snape’s eye—and made him inexplicably irritable.

Time passed with the owls’ comings and goings; when Wizard Sean stepped out of the dungeons, Sir Cadogan was waiting at the entrance.

Unlike usual, he silently watched Wizard Sean emerge, then angrily mounted his short horse.

That afternoon, a sudden downpour began.

Rain rolled down from the sky above Hogwarts like a pile of massive gravel… as if someone had shaken a tablecloth from a high window, all the scraping sounds merging into a noisy clamor as they fell.

The falling rain hissed, plunging all paths outside the castle into darkness… lightning flashed across the sky, and the heavens trembled.

Sir Cadogan dashed into the dungeons through the storm, shouting:

“Don’t you understand? You foolish fool! Habituation to despair is a thousand times worse than despair itself!”

Just like that night long ago, he charged into the dungeons again.

“Oh—my sir. He always willingly sacrifices himself for others.”

Madame Violet was at a loss for words.

“Well, Violet, I don’t actually think this is right.”

Fat Lady grew angry and stomped her foot hard.

No one knew what happened inside the dungeons, but when Sir Cadogan emerged, bruised and battered, he wore a “worth it” expression at the entrance.

Professor Snape’s black robe stirred without wind, surging like a roaring cloud across the corridor.

At his destination—the spacious, beautiful circular Headmaster’s Office.

All manner of silver objects gleamed; beside them, the blackened kettle still bubbled.

The wizard with long, white beard—Albus Dumbledore—sat behind his large oak desk, his half-moon spectacles slid halfway down his nose, his brilliant blue eyes gazing over the tops of the lenses at the storm outside:

“Ah—Headmistress Daisie Devant, the tragedy and greatness of this world lie in this—it gives us no truths, yet still offers much love.

Absurdity reigns; love saves it.”