Chapter 217: Hogwarts Learning Panel Chapter 95

In the Headmaster's office, Dumbledore's muttering broke the long-lost silence.

This was almost entirely aimed at concealment and special attacks against trolls.

Nothing is a coincidence, especially for a child who doesn't go night-wandering but has learned the Disillusionment Charm.

He had long sensed the danger...

This danger could only come from the room on the fourth floor, and to walk alone to this troll level, his excellence was unquestionable.

This meant he had passed at least four tests.

And he didn't say a word... this is very interesting, isn't it?

If such behavior would make Dumbledore feel uneasy, then putting on the name "Green," combined with his act of lurking beside the troll all along...

Dumbledore laughed softly.

Perhaps the entire Hogwarts castle was in his—the greatest white wizard of the century's—control, but this Green... he had done everything he could possibly do.

"Albus, you imagine him as those heinous wizards..."

A calm and gentle voice came.

"Oh—Headmaster Derwent, forgive an old man's excessive worry; people get old and always fail to see things clearly... The weather is nice, where did my lemon sherbet go?"

"Perhaps in your wool socks?"

Ms. Derwent said softly.

"Oh—of course, of course, it's my wool socks."

In Dumbledore's hand was a pair of thick socks; just touching them, one could feel the softness and warmth.

What made his mustache curl up even more was that there was more than one pair—all from that little Green.

【Happy Wan Shengjie. Thank you for your generous help.】

Dumbledore's blue eyes narrowed.

Who wouldn't like a child who knows how to repay kindness?

Dungeon.

The stone walls exuded chill. The coldness of the Potions classroom was heavier than elsewhere, and the damp cold air seemed to have weight, pressing heavily in the room.

Water droplets condensed on the walls dripped slowly along the rough stone surface, reflecting the light of the torches.

Many materials in the storage cabinet became exceptionally fragile in the dampness. Professor Sineipu's private storage room door was tightly closed, but there was still a faint smell of potion seeping from the door crack.

Among those unchanging grays and whites, some candies, a packaging box, and a blue notebook looked particularly abrupt.

"Looks like you received some gifts too, Severus?"

The person who came was an old man with a long white beard.

He wore purple robes, and his tone had no teasing, but rather a faint concern.

"Heh—"

Professor Sineipu didn't hesitate to blast Dumbledore out.

At the dungeon entrance, Sir Cadogan was enjoying dinner with two or three monks, several former Hogwarts headmasters, and his fat little gray pony.

He pushed his helmet up, holding a pot of mead to salute Headmaster Dumbledore.

"Wan Shengjie—uh—happy! Headmaster Dumbledore, didn't he see your wool socks?"

Sir Cadogan shouted,

"What a pity..."

In the dungeon.

Sineipu changed his previous anger and irritability, but was somewhat annoyed.

Boring gifts, useless except for making the connection between idiots and idiots tighter, facilitating them to make idiotic moves...

He unwrapped the package.

Inside were some carefully selected nettle grass and porcupine quills; they were of different lengths and packaged in a small bottle.

Beside the bottle was a notebook, which recorded in detail Sean's latest progress on the guidance method.

Although not much, it wasn't little either; it was experimented by Sean spending a lot of time.

Sineipu waved his wand and threw the candy out, "just right" landing in a small compartment of the glass cabinet.

Then he opened the letter:

【Sometimes looking at problems with hope makes them clearer.

Professor, I found some good ones in a pile of inferior materials.

Although very few, there are always some.

By the way,

Professor Sineipu, Happy Wan Shengjie】

Talking so much as if it were fake...

Sineipu snorted coldly and threw the letter into his bag at the same time.

Coming out of the dungeon all the way, Sean's breathing turned into white gas, rising and falling rhythmically.

"Come in, child."

Professor Marcus Maige was still sitting on the tall chair; the only difference was that the mountain of homework and various complicated documents had disappeared.

Only an owl remained, coming with a letter; its head shook, "rustling" and shaking off a little bit of snowflakes.

Sean found it quite interesting; his wand waved, and the snowflakes jumped a few dances along with it.

"Coo?"

The owl tilted its head, landed on Sean's shoulder, and rubbed against Sean with its round face.

Not good, Sean thought; when he went back later, Mr. Owl would scream again:

"Young wizard! Young wizard who changed his heart! You have the scent of other owls on you!"

It sounded as if Sean had failed it in some way.

"Child, come here."

Professor Marcus Maige said suddenly.

Sean leaned over silently; he originally thought the professor would ask him some questions about the troll, but he didn't expect the professor to not mention it at all.

She just held his hand.

"Listen, child, protecting friends is certainly important, but protecting yourself is too."

The crackling of the fireplace became louder.

Sean stood in front of the barrier and began his practice of items toward "magic."

His wand waved, and the flames leaped like elves, at some accidental moment.

Sean suddenly thought of the scene where the professor transformed a fire lizard.

He flipped through the professor's notebook, and sure enough, there was that part, and it made a detailed combing of the transformation details of the fire lizard.

Sean originally thought this should be an advanced part, but some strange guidance made him unable to resist trying—

【You practiced an advanced Transfiguration to an entry standard, proficiency +100】

A lizard-shaped flame suddenly ran out!

【Inside magical animals, there are circuits that fit magic incomparably; gifted wizards will capture them】

Just as Sean was looking at the professor's notebook, his mouth slightly raised, Professor Marcus Maige was reading a letter sent from afar.

【Respected Minerva Marcus Maige:

When I received your letter, I couldn't believe it at all; that child, the child God pities, turned out not to have suffered a scam.

Forgive my suspicion; I have seen too many such things. Even if life deceives us again and again, we in the Croydon district still choose to believe.

Because there is no worse result.

I cannot know how much effort you spent to find me—I know, those mean people never reply—they wish they would never receive letters, so they don't have to face those poor children.

In any case, it is enough that you have such a heart.

If you need more information about that child, please tell me; I have been a volunteer in Hollysay for a long time.

Looking forward to more of your replies.

Your loyal: Roland Taylor】 ===== CHAPTER 218 =====