Chapter 66: Hogwarts Learning Panel Chapter 32

And please allow me to revise the epitaph those foolish wizards carved for me, to tell you the true version—

Libatius Borage died in 1961, having spent most of his life engaged in this great work.

Now, it is your turn to study the most profound magic in the field of potions.】

Me?

My white talent?

Sean gave a silent "hmm," suddenly feeling a sense of responsibility.

He stuffed every word into his mind.

He had not expected to see such knowledge.

Master Libatius Borage, he had actually set his sights on the ancient spells and rituals inherited in the potion field.

Sean had read in *A History of Magic* that most potion spells and rituals had been passed down for over three hundred years.

They were as reliable and fixed as the pronunciation of spells.

This was a huge surprise; Sean felt like a Niffler that had found ancient gold coins.

He quickly copied all the improvements into his notebook—they were actually few, only a handful.

But, perhaps by coincidence, the Boil-Cure Potion was among them.

This made it even harder for Sean to suppress the corners of his mouth.

The magical crystal lamp illuminated Sean's focused face.

Before long, he rose from the oak long table.

The Hogwarts bell chimed, accompanied by the hooting of owls.

It was lunchtime.

Having filled himself with spiritual food, Sean had to consider his body.

He quickly returned the books to Madam Pince; the corridors were already filled with young wizards heading from the library to the Great Hall.

Walking past the warm fireplace,

Sean noticed that the Gryffindors were very quiet today.

"He must hate me..."

A black-haired little boy said, not understanding.

"Asphodel and wormwood... why didn't he ask Hermione!"

"Harry, don't be angry,"

the red-haired boy beside him whispered,

"I heard Snape is always like this, especially unreasonable."

Sean silently watched Harry and Luo En walk not far away and sit down.

He had some impression of this question; in his past life, some people felt that

Professor Sineipu, this pure-love warrior, might have questions as full of deep meaning as his actions.

The language of flowers for asphodel is regret brought to the grave,

the language of flowers for wormwood is bitter sorrow.

So the underlying meaning of this question is: I express endless grief over your mother's death.

Just as Sean was about to continue dipping his beans, Jia Siting sat down beside him with a flushed face,

followed by a dim-eyed Hermione.

"Even if it's Professor Sineipu, he can't do such an unreasonable thing!"

Jia Siting appeared very angry; his gaze toward his companion was full of sadness.

"If a student raising their hand to answer a question is wrong, then the professor who asked the question must also be a fool!"

Sean looked up, somewhat dazed.

They had just finished their Potions class.

Was this cursing... Professor Sineipu?

Even Harry, it seemed, hadn't cursed Professor Sineipu like that, right?

"Sean, oh, I wanted to tell you before..."

When Jia Siting looked at Sean, that anger vanished; he explained the scene to Sean with sadness—

When Professor Sineipu was questioning Harry, he not only ignored Hermione's repeated hand-raising but also roared at Hermione:

"Sit down!"

"Not a single person in the whole room thought it was unreasonable; that group of Gryffindors, they are truly cowardly!"

As Jia Siting spoke, his face flushed red again; his voice carried guilt.

He was almost gritting his teeth.

"I saw it from behind the door, but I couldn't help... As a friend, I am truly unqualified." ===== CHAPTER 67 =====