Chapter 179

Sean felt that the only difference between him and Headmaster Dumbledore at this moment was that the Headmaster needed wool socks, while he needed a warm sweater.

Sean's thoughts drifted; one moment he was thinking about how Mrs. Weasley would often send sweaters to the children (including Harry) at Christmas, and the next he was thinking about how Headmaster Dumbledore said he saw wool socks in the Mirror of Erised, when in reality, they were Gellert Grindelwald wool socks.

Professor Sineipu looked coldly at Sean's notes, his gaze shifting from icy and disdainful to suppressed surprise and shock, and finally to complete emotionlessness:

"You should know, this... is extremely precious."

Professor Sineipu's voice was eerie.

Sean nodded.

"Fool! Ignorant fool! I see you don't understand its value at all! You're like a Muggle holding a wand without knowing the magical power it contains!"

Professor Sineipu roared, the source of his anger once again beyond Sean's ability to fathom.

He silently opened the copy of *Advanced Potion-Making*, the handwriting inside clearly visible:

【Libatius Borage's greatest achievement was not the discovery of potion rituals and will-guidance methods,

but the continuation of the trajectory of truth, handing it over completely to his successor.】

Professor Sineipu's trailing note caught in his throat; he scanned that sentence, and just as he was about to speak, he saw the next one:

【Infinite distances, endless truths... You should know, they are being born in your hands right now.】

Professor Sineipu's rage gradually subsided, and after the subsiding came an incredibly suppressed whisper:

"If you knew, Sean Green, you wouldn't have exposed it..."

He stared coldly at Sean, as if trying to see through to his heart.

Sean remained unmoved; he simply said softly:

"Professor, in fact, only you know."

The mocking corner of Professor Sineipu's mouth froze; he gazed at this student who stood in the shadows with him. For a moment, he was actually... at a loss.

"Heh—you mean..."

After a long silence, Professor Sineipu asked again with a gloomy face.

Sean nodded silently.

"You think... everyone is worth trusting?"

Professor Sineipu's voice sounded like it was squeezed out from between his teeth.

He seemed to be scolding Sean, and yet he also seemed to be scolding himself for blindly trusting Voldemort.

"Listen to me! Sean Green, you are not allowed to reveal these notes to anyone! If you dare to do so..."

He gripped the notes, threatening him.

The student before him... was ridiculously stupid, ridiculously stubborn, and also... ridiculously pure.

When Sean left the dungeon with a light step, the gaze behind him remained fixed on him without a moment's pause.

Sineipu could not describe these feelings, these feelings he hated, despised... and feared—

This fool trusted him.

His gaze dimmed—

The bitterness and unwillingness that had been sealed away until they were nearly rusted surged into his heart.

To call it awkward would be too harsh, too unfeeling.

It was likely because the hardships of the past wanted to intimidate the... hope of the present.

In the corridor.

The portraits on the walls, usually so talkative, had all fallen into a deep sleep; some emitted faint snoring, others had their hats tilted askew, with drool nearly dripping to the edge of their frames.

Looking at Sir Cadogan, who had fallen asleep while waiting for him with drool dripping down, and then at the two sleeping ladies, Sean sometimes felt that the reason they could get along was probably because they shared the same "tastes."

A few torches inserted into iron brackets were still burning, casting flickering, long and short shadows, making the ancient carvings on the walls and the patterns on the tapestries seem to come alive, their shadows swaying with the candlelight.

Sean was already used to walking at night, except for the cold.

Sometimes Mrs. Norris would come to accompany him for a stretch, and this was when Justin's dried fish came in very handy.

Relying on the dried fish, Sean could pet Mrs. Norris's head, adding quite a bit to his affinity with the magical creature.

But the lady was clearly not here today.

At the corner, a very faint rustling sound suddenly came.

Immediately after, three small figures wearing wizard robes slipped out from behind the wide base of a suit of armor.

The boy in the lead had a mop of messy blond hair, and the freckles on his face were particularly prominent due to his excitement and nervousness. He gripped his wand tightly, cautiously poking his head out to peer down both ends of the corridor.

"Is... is it clear?"

The small boy asked in a whisper, his voice trembling violently.

The blond boy didn't look back, just nodded vigorously and gestured for them to "follow" behind him.

"Filch is definitely napping in the trophy room downstairs; you know, he usually rests for a while at this hour..."

He lowered his voice, which carried an irrepressible excitement,

"Also, I saw with my own eyes that Mrs. Norris went that way too."

There were quite a few young wizards at Hogwarts who wanted to go to Filch's office to cause trouble, but those who actually dared to take action were usually Gryffindors.

Sean was originally going to walk away, but they suddenly mentioned Dungbombs.

This made Sean pause his steps.

A Dungbomb is one of the products sold at Zonko's Joke Shop; it is a magical stink bomb that emits a rotting odor, invented by Alberic Grunnion in the 1880s.

It is one of the nastiest prank toys, and even touching a Dungbomb will make your hands dirty.

Sean imagined the scene of Mr. Filch cleaning up a Dungbomb, and his pace quickened significantly.

But he was still too late.

When Mrs. Norris let out a shrill scream, those few daring young wizards were actually preparing to cast magic at her.

Although it was only the Aguamenti spell, being splashed with cold water near the start of winter was not pleasant.

"Aguamenti!"

Sean saw the lead wizard waving his wand, although he even got the pronunciation wrong.

Mrs. Norris was so frightened that she ran toward the door in a panic, and was then naturally scooped up by Sean.

"Finite Incantatem."

Sean waved his wand, and Mrs. Norris panted on Sean's shoulder.

"Oh no! Run!"

The lead boy among the three whispered, quickly trying to run out of Filch's office.

"Bullying someone who can't use magic isn't fun, gentlemen."

Sean blocked the door.

This also made the three young wizards immediately start clawing and snarling.