Chapter 174: Hanging at the Dungeon Entrance

A bad news disrupted Wizard Sean’s plans: Professor Tera was not there.

“Professor Tera is a very busy person, constantly shuttling between several magical schools… Not seeing her is the normal thing.”

The Weasleys’ words echoed in Wizard Sean’s mind. It seemed he would have great difficulty finding the professor in a short time.

So Wizard Sean could only try to study ancient magical runes and select materials himself.

Or, he thought, perhaps the twins might have some solution?

Just like the runic notes they had given him last time—no vague descriptions, only precise phrases that preserved meaning.

In the corridor. A figure riding a pony flashed past, and at the corner where he disappeared, another tall figure appeared.

When Wizard Sean entered the corridor, an unexpected wizard appeared before him.

“Mr. Green, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The tall prefect spoke politely, with a touch of warmth.

“Prefect Crevat.”

Wizard Sean nodded. He felt this corridor was never clean—every time he passed through, someone stopped him.

“Oh, ‘Selection and Inspiration of Alchemical Materials’? You’re studying ancient alchemy? That’s sixth-year material.”

The prefect glanced at his notebook, and her smile brightened further.

“Ravenclaw has many wizards who have taken ancient runes as electives. Perhaps we can help you?”

Wizard Sean shook his head. Her intent was easy to guess—and from her expression, she didn’t intend to hide it.

“I suspect your notes are quite comprehensive, but listen: Ravenclaw has a ‘Magical Society.’ Yes, it’s a club. It gathers many wizards like you who enjoy delving into magic…”

As she spoke, she watched Wizard Sean’s reaction. He showed slight interest, but not much.

“We have many notes on ancient runes—all annotations from students on those obscure texts. Simple, clear, and verified by professors. Very reliable.”

Wizard Sean’s eyes brightened slightly.

“Many were left behind by Ravenclaw students from years ago.”

Wizard Sean began to consider it.

“We can give them all to you. And if you need to find Professor Bathsheda Babbling, we have ways too… as long as you’re willing to appear for Ravenclaw three times—no, twice is enough!”

The prefect spoke faster and faster. In her description, Wizard Sean felt his first question about runes and materials might no longer be a problem.

He had always believed one thing: magic is vast. Perhaps no one has succeeded in what he seeks to do, but that doesn’t mean no one has failed before.

After all, even poison tentacles have been eaten by wizards—and recorded on Chocolate Frog cards.

Though magic is sometimes not straightforward, there’s always something to be gained between the lines.

So Wizard Sean was slightly swayed.

If the ‘Magical Society’s’ notes were truly useful, he should offer something in return.

Penelope Crevat’s lips curled slightly. They had been watching Wizard Sean for far longer than a day or two. Especially since the Weasleys made no effort to conceal it, Wizard Sean’s study of alchemy was easy to uncover.

More importantly, she had just reached an agreement with someone…

“I think…”

The prefect’s offer was tempting. He simply disliked Quidditch and the time and potential injuries it wasted.

But playing as a participant for just one or two matches was fine—his body was no longer so weak.

It was an equal exchange. Wizard Sean accepted this method.

“Don’t rush to refuse… I heard Professor McGonagall loves Quidditch. They say she attends every match.”

Prefect Penelope Crevat said softly, then stopped there, saying no more.

“I’m sorry to have heard some news. If you’re angry, I know I’ll be in terrible trouble. But this is something I must do, even if it means terrible trouble.”

“Wizard Sean, we need you. The Ravenclaw Quidditch team needs you—and so does all of Ravenclaw. This is our best chance.”

The prefect looked at Wizard Sean.

“On the word of Merlin, no one else overheard this. Though I don’t know why you don’t go by Wizard Sean McGonagall, if you don’t wish to speak of it, no one else will ever know.”

Penelope Crevat was a clever wizard. She faced her desires directly, restraining herself with a moral code uncommon among wizards.

So though her sharpness sometimes made others feel offended, Ravenclaw still trusted her—at least she dared to lay everything out in the open, didn’t she?

Wind howled through the corridor. Christmas ribbons hung overhead. The portraits on the walls flickered between light and shadow.

Prefect Penelope held her breath. The young wizard before her was deep in thought.

He stirred slightly at the mention of Professor McGonagall, but then settled back into calm.

“How dreadful! To hear such shameful scheming!”

A voice appeared. Wizard Sean immediately recognized it as Sir Cadogan.

Though his tone was solemn and proper, his condition was poor—he was being dragged into his portrait by his pony, his legs scraping along the floor with a rustling sound.

“You should be ashamed, wizard!”

His legs dangled on the ground, his body clinging to the pony. His voice, deep and steeped in ancient knightly cadence, was hard to look at.

Prefect Penelope lowered her head slightly.

“I’m sorry.”

“Love is not used this way, lady.”

The knight lowered his head and winked at Wizard Sean.

“You should first do something to atone for your mistake—I believe you’ve already done your part for your house’s honor. Now you should express your apology.”

Then Wizard Sean saw the prefect pull out many notes from her bag—as if she had prepared everything in advance.

“Sir Cadogan, you are right.”

Prefect Penelope handed the notes to Wizard Sean.

“Whether or not you choose to join, Ravenclaw will always support you. If you wish to find Professor Bathsheda Babbling or decide to play for Ravenclaw, contact me anytime.”

She smiled genuinely now, then tilted her head and made a gesture of sealing her lips before leaving the corridor.

Wizard Sean had actually… agreed just then.

As for Professor McGonagall—she had originally planned to announce this news… but since Professor Snape showed no interest, she had not insisted and instead happily let it pass.

Not long after.

A corner of the corridor.

“Sir, will this really work?”

Prefect Penelope paced back and forth, no longer graceful as before, but visibly uneasy.

“I understand young Green better than anyone in Hogwarts!”

The knight looked utterly confident.

“I hope so.”

Prefect Penelope walked a few more steps, then left.

At that moment, the knight hummed a tune:

“Of course, the big cat would gladly go public—but not going public is protection for him, isn’t it, Severus?

Just imagining young Green flying freely—ha! The big cat must be as excited as I am!

And I’ve solved a little problem on the side. Oh, young Green, if you found out, how would you thank me? I certainly don’t want to be hanging at the entrance to the dungeon…”