Chapter 185

The benefit of having a fireplace that was always burning was that the three returning young wizards could dry the dampness on their bodies at any time.

Damp, cold air occupied the back of the classroom, but the closer one got to the fireplace, the more intense the scent became, a mixture of the warmth of dried wool and the fresh fragrance of burning pine.

Three small figures sat with hot tea in this atmosphere of light and heat.

Jia Siting pulled out a camera—a "click" sound appeared, accompanied by Hermione's angry voice.

"Sean—it's like this again—take it quickly!"

Hermione always appeared with the fireplace; she puffed out her cheeks and handed over a towel, wanting to say something but swallowing it helplessly.

"And you! Too dirty!"

Looking at the mud spots Jia Siting had stepped on the floor, Hermione waved her wand, cleaned the floor, and then threw a clean towel into Jia Siting's hand.

Neville had originally been watching Sean practice using Transfiguration, but now he was shivering on the side, not daring to speak at all.

Then two towels were placed in his arms—he had gotten wetter than the others.

Around the stove, light and heat jumped onto the faces of the four people—Jia Siting handed some seeds to Hermione, and Neville held a pot of newly sprouted, chubby Bubotuber pods, smiling foolishly.

Due to their diligent performance in the greenhouse, Professor Sprout not only added points for them but also gave them many seeds; now many places in the classroom were planted with greenery, and the classroom was becoming more and more like a cozy secret base.

But Sean's gains were more than just these. After Professor Sineipu sarcastically introduced him to quite a bit of knowledge about potion materials, he basically learned the process with a purpose when processing materials in the greenhouse—

For example, Sun-Flower Root; Sean knew it needed to be ground into powder, so he would pay extra attention to the grinding process of the Sun-Flower Root;

For example, Abyssinian Shrivelfig; Sean knew it needed to be shelled, so he would focus on how its shell should be peeled and at what stage it should be peeled.

The connection between herbs and potions is as strong as the connection between Ancient Runes and Alchemy.

For several weeks, Sean had spent a lot of time and finally managed to memorize *Easy Introduction to Ancient Runes* and *Magical Phonetic Table*.

The complexity of this project was no less than mastering two of Professor McGonagall's treasured books.

How did Sean know?

Of course, it was because he had completed two arduous tasks at the same time.

Hmm, but what he was looking forward to most was the potion brewing tonight; with ten more proficiency points, he would be able to unlock a new potion field title.

After drying his thick robe, Sean placed it in the classroom wardrobe; in places with a fireplace or cauldron, wearing it was still too hot.

After all, this was a robe that could withstand heavy rain, and Professor Sprout had carefully cast a great many spells on it to ensure the young wizards' physical health.

The heavy rain had not yet ceased, and by evening, the weather had become very cold.

The large mountains around the school were gray and covered in ice and snow, and the lake surface was as cold and hard as quenched steel.

At this time, the fireplace in the Great Hall would always grow many Ravenclaws and Gryffindors.

It was highly probable because the common rooms of both houses were particularly high—unlike some Hufflepuffs huddled by the cafeteria—so whenever it was break time, the Great Hall was still mostly filled with young wizards from those two houses.

At the long table.

Luo En was playing Wizard's Chess with his head held high; with one command from him, the "Knight" smashed the head of the opponent's "King."

"Unfair! Rematch! My pieces aren't listening to commands at all!"

Seamus's face flushed red; he couldn't believe what his pieces had done—his King had actually shouted something about "a King cannot be insulted" and walked into the range where the opponent's piece could eat it in the next move, and then was undoubtedly "split" by the Knight.

"You still have a lot to learn!"

Luo En neatly packed up the Wizard's Chess, thinking about who to play with next.

Wizard's Chess is a popular game in the Wizarding World; some people think that mastering the rules is enough to play well, but in reality, this is far from enough.

Because its pieces are all alive—playing chess is like commanding an army; the pieces have their own opinions, so you have to know the temper of the pieces clearly, so you won't run into any trouble when commanding.

Luo En was very good at this, so he always won.

"Luo En—it's truly strange; usually at this time you'd be scratching your head doing homework, why today..."

Dean watched Luo En killing in all directions and asked, quite puzzled.

"Oh—this—"

Luo En seemed to have been waiting for this question for a long time; he rummaged through his bag and actually took out a few carefully protected notebooks.

"Green's Notes! Merlin! Where did you get..."

A circle of young wizards around him stretched their heads and exclaimed.

"Of course it's Sean... oh no, this is a secret..."

Luo En covered his mouth halfway through speaking.

"Sean Green? Even those Slytherins say he's not to be trifled with..."

Dean immediately withdrew his hot curiosity.

"No—"

Luo En straightened his face,

"No description can replace Sean; if you have the guts, go find out for yourself."

Subsequently, his face flushed red, his eyes terrifyingly firm:

"I absolutely must not hear any rumors about Sean!"

Sean, who was passing by, silently quickened his pace.

How did he... seem like a cult leader.

Corridor leading to the dungeon.

A group of senior wizards wearing robes filed out of the dungeon, soon filling the corridor.

Sean silently pressed against the wall, listening to their whispered discussions—a small portion was cursing Professor Sineipu, while the majority only dared to nod silently in agreement.

At the entrance to the dungeon, Sean rarely saw a figure whose face was shrouded in shadow; he was holding a booklet, watching the corridor coldly.

The whispered discussions seemed not to have entered his ears at all; he just gazed at Sean, lingering for a moment on his body, which was trembling slightly from the cold wind, and his wrinkled scarf.