HPS 105 (Patreon)

Chapter 105: The Fireplace

One benefit of having a fireplace that is constantly lit is that the three returning young wizards could dry the dampness from their clothes at any time.

Wet, cold air lingered at the back of the classroom, but the closer you got to the fireplace, the more intense an aroma became—a blend of the warmth of drying wool and the clean scent of burning pine.

The three small figures held cups of hot tea within this sphere of light and heat.

Justin pulled out a camera—a soft “click” sound appeared, along with Hermione's irritated voice.

“Sean—like this again—take it, quickly!”

Hermione always seemed to appear by the fireplace; she puffed out her cheeks and handed him a towel, swallowing whatever she wanted to say with a look of helpless resignation.

“And you! You’re filthy!”

Seeing the mud spots Justin tracked onto the floor, Hermione gave a flick of her wand, cleaning the ground, and then tossed a clean towel into Justin’s hand.

Neville, who had been watching Sean practice Transfiguration, was now just shivering nervously nearby, not daring to speak.

Then two towels were deposited into his arms—he was the wettest.

Gathered around the fire, the light and heat danced onto the four faces—Justin handed some seeds to Hermione, and Neville was smiling dopily while cradling a pot of newly sprouted, plump Bubotuber pods.

Because of their diligent work in the greenhouses, Professor Sprout not only awarded them House points but also gave them quite a few seeds. Now, many parts of the classroom were planted with greenery, making it look more and more like a cozy secret base.

But Sean’s gains were more than just these. After Professor Snape mockingly provided him with knowledge about many potion ingredients, Sean basically learned the process in the greenhouse with a purpose—

For example, with Aconite root, Sean knew it needed to be ground into powder, so he paid extra attention to the process of grinding the Aconite root; for the Abyssinian Shrivelfig, Sean knew it needed to be peeled, so he focused on how and at what stage the skin should be removed.

The connection between Herbology and Potions was as strong as the connection between Ancient Runes and Alchemy.

Over the past few weeks, Sean had spent a significant amount of time and finally managed to memorize Easy Introduction to Ancient Runes and The Magical Alphabet and Pronunciation Guide.

The complexity of this task was no less than fully grasping two of Professor McGonagall’s cherished books.

How did Sean know this?

Naturally, because he had completed both arduous tasks simultaneously.

'Still, what I'm most looking forward to is tonight’s Potions brewing; I'm only ten proficiency points away from unlocking a new title in the field of Potions.'

After drying his thick robe, Sean placed it in the classroom wardrobe; it was too hot to wear it near the fireplace or a cauldron.

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

The downpour hadn't stopped, and by evening, the weather had become very cold.

The mountains surrounding the school were grey and covered in ice and snow, and the lake looked cold and hard, like quenched steel.

At this time, the fireplaces in the Great Hall always seemed to sprout many Ravenclaws and Gryffindors.

This was likely because the common rooms for both Houses were situated particularly high up—unlike certain "little badgers" who were tucked away next to the kitchens—so during breaks, the Great Hall was mostly populated by the young wizards of those two Houses.

At the long table.

Ron was playing Wizard Chess with his chest puffed out; with one command, his “Knight” smashed the opposing “King’s” head.

“Unfair! Rematch! My pieces completely refused to listen!” Seamus’s face was red; he couldn't believe what his pieces had done—his King had actually marched into a square where the opponent's piece could take it in the next move, yelling something about “A King must not be disgraced,” and was then promptly given a “split-headed maneuver” by the Knight.

“You still have a lot to learn!” Ron quickly packed up the Wizard Chess set, considering who to play next.

Wizard Chess is a popular game in the magical world. Some believe that mastering the rules is enough to play well, but in reality, that's far from the truth. Because the pieces are all alive, playing chess is like commanding an army, and the pieces have their own opinions. Therefore, one must know the temperament of their pieces perfectly to avoid any trouble when giving commands.

Ron was very good at this, which is why he always won.

“Ron—that’s strange, usually you’d be scratching your head doing homework by now, how come today…” Dean asked, watching Ron dominate, quite perplexed.

“Oh—that—” Ron seemed to have been waiting for this question for a long time. He rummaged through his bag and actually pulled out several meticulously cared-for notebooks.

“A Green Note! Merlin! Where did you get that…” The young wizards around them craned their necks and gasped.

“From Sean, of course… Oh no, it’s a secret…” Ron clapped a hand over his mouth mid-sentence.

“Sean Green? Even the Slytherins say he’s not to be messed with…” Dean quickly tempered his burning curiosity.

“No—” Ron straightened his face immediately, “No description can substitute for Sean, if you have the guts, go find out for yourselves.”

Then his face flushed, his eyes terrifyingly resolute: “I will not hear any rumors about Sean!”

Sean, who was walking past, quietly quickened his pace.

'He sounds... like a cult leader.'

In the Dungeon

The corridor leading to the dungeons.

A stream of older wizards in robes poured out of the dungeons, quickly filling the corridor.

Sean silently pressed himself against the wall, listening to their hushed conversations—a small portion were cursing Professor Snape, but most only dared to nod in silent agreement.

At the entrance to the dungeons, Sean rarely saw a figure whose face was shrouded in shadow; he held a register and coldly watched the corridor.

The hushed discussions seemed not to reach his ears at all; he merely stared at Sean, his gaze lingering briefly on Sean’s slightly trembling body and crumpled scarf in the cold wind.

In the dungeons.

Steam rose from the cauldron, instantly driving away some of Sean’s chill.

He efficiently prepared the ingredients for the Swelling Solution, his technique identical to Professor Sprout’s. It would even be rated "Outstanding" by Professor Snape’s standards—though he only knew a few of the ingredients, it was enough.

Professor Snape watched all this from the shadows; in his hand, the parchment detailing the Guidance Method was stacked with two previous notes.

As his memory passed through the corridor, he seemed to hear the hushed mockery—he had never thought he would care about such things, yet they now stirred a ripple in his mind.

So, as Sean focused on stirring his cauldron, he suddenly spoke:

“Hmph—I assume you are using that archaic stirring method from Magical Drafts and Potions, a method even a troll wouldn’t use anymore—you should know, Sean Green, that not every word is correct! If your eyes are not merely for decoration, you will see the modified parts in your notes!”