HPS 107 (Patreon)

Chapter 107: The Sweater

Was it difficult to buy a sweater?

When the weather turned cold, Sean had already asked the two Weasley upperclassmen, and they had promised to find a chance today to sneak into Hogsmeade Village to buy some clothes for him—including a scarf, sweater, single-layer robes, and boots.

However, their mission failed before it even began, as they were caught just as they were about to leave the castle.

In the corner of the corridor at the time:

"A sweater—of course—perfectly simple!" Fred winked.

"Since you've come to us—" George secretly shot Fred a meaningful glance.

"Then you must know our asking price!" Fred understood immediately.

"Five Sickles each!" George yelled, then subtly watched Sean for a moment.

"Deal!" Sean said with finality.

"Ah, no, no, no, not right... Six Sickles!" George frantically tried to compensate.

"Deal!" Sean shook the Weasley's hand.

The upperclassman pulled away as if he'd been electrocuted:

"Seven!"

"Deal!"

"Eight, no, nine... Merlin!" George went limp.

"Three Galleons... a scarf, sweater, single-layer robe, gloves, and boots—everything included!" Fred named a flat price,

"We only made one Sickle off you, not one Knut more, absolutely!"

"I believe you," Sean said.

"Two Galleons—please stop talking," George said weakly,

"I've never met a young wizard like you; those other guys..."

"They think we're trying to make ten Galleons off them!" Fred interjected.

"But in reality, they only buy for ten Knuts!" George gave Sean a strange look.

"Let's go, before we regret this..."

Sean nodded.

After walking a few steps, Fred put his arm over George's shoulder and whispered,

"How much did we make?"

"Two Sickles," George winked.

The two exchanged a smile and high-fived.

But just as they turned to leave, a sharp meow sounded.

This made the two figures, who had just entered a secret passage, run for their lives.

"Mrs. Norris? How can she be here at nine in the evening, Fred!" George shouted.

"How should I know!" Fred tossed out a ball containing Dungbombs, but unfortunately, Mrs. Norris was already in pursuit.

Sean, who had waited in the corridor for a while for Mrs. Norris to pass, left the hallway feeling a bit disappointed.

In any case, the next time Sean saw the two upperclassmen was when he found them serving detention in the dungeons.

For five whole days, they hadn't been able to escape Professor Snape's grasp—despite promising they would sneak out for an hour to buy Sean some warm clothes.

It wasn't until today that the two, who Professor Snape had assigned to scrub the toilets, finally finished their detention. According to Fred, the reason they finished early was because they had ratted out a few other Gryffindors.

"Oh, them, even though they're our blood brothers—" George said nostalgically.

"—but you offered enough money!" Fred winked.

'This really fits Sean's stereotype of the twins,' he thought for a moment, 'Would they rat me out if someone else offered them money?'

Actually—

"Tell me—what were you sneaking out for?" Professor Snape's voice was like a sharp winter wind, making Fred, who was polishing the glass in the dungeon, and George, who was sweeping, shiver.

"We were just testing a secret passage," Fred said stiffly.

"A secret passage that was reportedly abandoned ages ago," George added, sounding utterly earnest.

Professor Snape remained silent, only threatening with a cold, humorless smile,

"If I were to make you scrub the washroom for two weeks..."

"To buy a sweater, Professor!" George whined, his face long.

"We needed a sweater, Professor," Fred also put on a look of sincerity.

To their surprise, Professor Snape merely stared at them for a moment before telling them to roll out of the dungeon.

In the Hogwarts Great Hall

The enchanted ceiling showed a clear, grey-blue sky, with a few wisps of thin clouds drifting across it. The air was filled with the warm scent of baked bread, mixed with the dampness of the morning.

Suddenly, a sound of flapping wings came from the distance, growing louder, like heavy rain beating on a window.

Hundreds of owls poured in through the high windows like a tide; brown, grey, and white wings interwove, making it impossible for the young wizards to tell them apart—until the owls flew down to their respective long tables.

The shrill sound of a Howler suddenly erupted somewhere, and Sean, Hermione, Neville, and Justin, sitting nearby, instinctively covered their ears.

Justin watched the scene outside the stained-glass window; the downpour had just stopped, but the trees hadn't been so lucky, having lost at least half their leaves.

A silver-grey owl flew arrogantly toward Justin, carrying a thick, dark package.

He cautiously glanced at Sean, who was still attacking his apple pie. Justin let out a deep sigh of relief.

Inside the package were a thick sweater and gloves, along with a photograph featuring four young wizards—the wizards in the picture were mostly shivering from the cold, and their expressions varied, but strangely, they were all looking at the young wizard in the center.

His emerald-green eyes held a touch of warmth in the flickering light.

On the back of the photo was a line of handwriting:

[Dear Finch-Fletchley:

I've heard many stories, and I imagine the area of his eyes must be smaller than the lake;

I think such eyes would never weep;

Perhaps standing before him is like standing at the lake's edge, with a fine mist stretching to connect the sky and the earth.

Always cherish your friend.

—Liliana, who is always proud of you]

Justin silently put the letter away and left the Great Hall before Sean seemed to notice.

At the same time, a spotted owl landed next to Hermione, and the little witch also glanced at Sean before lightly leaving the Great Hall.

Sean silently pulled his gaze away from the delicious food—'Why do I feel like Justin and Hermione have been a bit strange lately?'

In the Classroom

The fireplace burned fiercely, and Sean entered the classroom carrying The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 and a small notebook belonging to Professor Flitwick.

He instinctively moved toward the fireplace when a gust of cold wind seemed to launch a final assault, but Sean took a large step forward, causing it to miss.

On his usual seat, a gold-edged letter lay quietly.

Sean silently walked over and saw a package beneath the letter.

He paused slightly and opened the envelope:

[I can't believe it's autumn so quickly,

and the trees are starting to wither.

The good thing about autumn is that,

You can wear warm and good-looking sweaters,

Sean, be a little warmer.

—Your ever-loyal: Justin Finch-Fletchley]

Outside the stained-glass window, an owl flew past, carrying away the last trace of autumn chill.