Chapter 430

Neville received letters from numerous witches and wizards in his family, each offering different advice on course selection.

Neville was overwhelmed and deeply anxious.

He sat there staring at the course list, tongue sticking out, quietly asking Jia Jia Siting whether Arithmancy sounded harder than Ancient Runes.

On the other side of the Gryffindor table.

Dean Thomas and others, like Wizard Sean, were Muggle-born witches and wizards.

They finally closed their eyes and randomly tapped their wands on the list, choosing whichever course their wand pointed to.

Wizard Sean turned around and saw Hermione, after carefully reading Jia Jia Siting’s advice, signing her name on every course.

“Hermione, are you sure?”

Harry winced.

“Merlin…”

Ron’s eyes widened.

Hermione ignored both of them, tucked away her course form, and then looked at Wizard Sean with an odd expression.

As if sharing a secret known only to the two of them.

Wizard Sean didn’t notice this—he stared at the course schedule, frowning.

He certainly didn’t want to miss any class.

Ancient Runes was the foundation of Alchemy; Care of Magical Creatures couldn’t possibly lack its newly appointed assistant; Divination courses would help him understand obscure, unlocked Prophecy Magic, and later would be taught personally by Centaurs; Muggle Studies was also a course beneficial to Alchemical research…

But the scheduling of these courses made it impossible to take them all.

Arithmancy conflicted with Care of Magical Creatures, and Divination overlapped by more than half with Muggle Studies.

This made Wizard Sean feel even more pressed for time.

“Wizard Sean, are you still thinking? Is there any course you find unsatisfactory?”

Hermione, already seated beside Wizard Sean, whispered, her skeptical gaze already fixed on the Divination class.

Before Wizard Sean could answer, another voice sounded in his ear—it was Percy Wei Wei Silai.

“It depends on where you intend to go, Green, Granger.”

He said,

“You must plan early for your future, so I recommend Divination. People say Muggle Studies is foolish, but I personally believe wizards should have a comprehensive, thorough understanding of the non-magical world—especially if they intend to work closely with Muggles—

Look at my father; he must deal with Muggle affairs every moment.

My brother Charlie always loved outdoor activities, so he chose Care of Magical Creatures. Play to your strengths, everyone.”

He spoke like a prefect concerned for younger students, then walked away.

“What do you think, Wizard Sean?”

Hermione didn’t believe everything he said had merit.

She trusted only the two young wizards beside her.

“I think…”

Wizard Sean relaxed his brow—he thought of a powerful magical artifact.

“Do you also think taking them all is right?”

Hermione couldn’t wait.

“Yes.”

Wizard Sean nodded.

If he had a Time-Turner, he would have more flexibility in his choices.

“Good.”

Hermione walked off, clutching her book.

…

Time-Turner.

The word echoed several times in Wizard Sean’s mind.

So… he wrote it down in his notebook.

The notebook was densely filled with Wizard Sean’s plans: past plans and current plans.

They differed, but one thing was certain—all plans on the notebook would eventually be completed.

[Apply for Time-Turner].

Another line had been added.

After the course selection chaos ended, the young witches and wizards began chattering about Hogsmeade weekend.

It was one of the rare holidays allowing them to leave Hogwarts Castle.

Hogsmeade Village had so many novel and fun shops—even a new Gringotts Bookshop and Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes—and second-year students and above were endlessly discussing them.

Third-year students debated what to buy; second-years discussed what they’d do next year.

After all, when next term began, they’d become part of the group permitted to walk that sacred path.

Wizard Sean ignored these conversations, caught instead by another voice.

“I rarely see you look so thoughtful.”

Prefect Penet came after Percy; after briefly introducing the courses to a group of young Ravenclaws, she walked straight over.

“Prefect Penet.”

Wizard Sean said.

“I imagine you’re like I was—unwilling to miss any class…”

Prefect Penet said in a seductive tone,

“Roger begged me for so long—the Ravenclaw Quidditch team needs you; the Seeker position has been kept open for you ever since… but today I only came to deliver a special piece of news.

If you agree to play for Ravenclaw, I’ll do everything in my power to secure it for you…”

Wizard Sean gazed at Prefect Penet with his green eyes; the beautiful prefect continued:

“A powerful magical artifact—it looks like a small, glowing golden hourglass, with a long, delicate golden chain.

Each turn rewinds time by one hour.

To possess it, you must persuade professors to write letters to the Ministry, declaring the owner a model student who will never use it for anything beyond study…

It’s a secret passed down among generations of model students. Do you know what it is?”

Prefect Penet smiled and winked.

“Time-Turner.”

Wizard Sean answered.

“Ah—you know—then Roger will be disappointed.

I won’t ask whether you have it; we both know the oath was sworn.”

Prefect Penet left, slightly disappointed, casting one final meaningful glance at Wizard Sean—as if the artifact were already in his bag.

But what disappointed Wizard Sean equally was that his bag held only the Wizard’s Book—containing the butler Pukeqi, the cat-leopard, and a vast, boundless space.

He walked down the corridor to the dungeons for detention.

Yes, his detention began after he was discharged from the hospital.

From September 1st to September 1st, no holidays, totaling seven years.

Wizard Sean, who began detention in second year, still owed Professor Snape one additional year.

Professor McGonagall, who had originally opposed it, now agreed; Dumbledore, who had cheerfully approved it, now seemed slightly regretful.

Wizard Sean thought, thought again, and stepped into the dungeons.

Inside the dungeons.

Snape, hidden in shadow, stared at the bubbling cauldron; when the wooden door creaked open, he automatically looked up.

The fool, bewitched by Dumbledore’s ideas, still irritated him.

His arms were behind his back, holding something like a necklace, and his face darkened.

The annoying, brainless fool—unable even to complain about how unfair life was—this was precisely what stirred his deepest bitterness.