Sean was silently reflecting on the contents of his notes.
Professor Sprout had not only taught him how to process South Ginger, but also how to handle wood sorrel, mugwort, and aloe vera juice.
These were all herbal ingredients required for swelling potions; because of this, Sean felt quite confident about tonight's potion brewing.
Combined with the refinement ritual and will guidance, he could brew at least a [Skilled] grade swelling potion.
That's right—his very first attempt would be at the Skilled level.
This made his steps even lighter.
Until—
"There's still a month until Hogsmeade weekend... Oh, actually, it wasn't until my second trip to Hogsmeade village that I realized it's the only place in Britain without Muggles—"
A familiar voice was speaking.
"Mm-hmm."
Sean saw that it was Senior Leon answering.
"What are you planning to buy at Honeydukes this time?"
Leon raised an eyebrow.
"If you dare to go in there and buy broom cleaner again, you can go in by yourself."
"Hehe—"
Sean could roughly guess who it was.
"But they have everything there... Pepper Imps—they make smoke come out of your mouth when you eat them—and Chocolate Frogs, filled with strawberry cream or regular cream, and even quill-shaped candies, just like how you used to suck on them in class when Professor McGonagall wasn't looking, only to be thrown out of the classroom..."
Leon looked down at Senior Bruce and said,
"But the moment you walk in, you ask for broom cleaner, and if they won't give it to you, you steal and splash people with Dungbombs or Itching Powder..."
Hearing this, Sean's eyes widened slightly.
"Alright, alright, but it's not like I didn't provide the antidote, nor was I not hit by a broom—um—the weather is lovely today... Oh, Sean!"
As if he had eyes in the back of his head, Bruce turned around and waved at Sean.
Leon silently swallowed the sentence, "Then what about the beating Pister and I took?"
Sean politely greeted the three seniors.
Just then, the bell rang. As Sean was preparing to head to the Great Hall for dinner, he heard Bruce's voice, laced with amusement
"Oh, during the days you were away, we spent a massive amount of time just dealing with the disasters caused by those little wizards. I often suspect they are natural-born pranksters; otherwise, how could they be even more rowdy than I was back then?"
Bruce blinked his eyes.
Behind him, Leon and Pister nodded in deep agreement, though it was unclear which part they were agreeing with.
"This also made me realize something—you've returned at just the right time."
Bruce pulled out three servings of chocolate, raspberry, and nut ice cream from seemingly nowhere, stuffed them into Sean's hands, and whispered
"You'll never guess, but I won a bet on you. The Hufflepuff Handbook says that sharing joy is a vital part of sharing—"
Thus, feeling somewhat bewildered, Sean entered the Great Hall carrying the three servings of chocolate, raspberry, and nut ice cream.
He had a feeling Bruce was keeping something from him, but given Bruce's logic of buying broom cleaner at Honeydukes and splashing itching powder if refused, Sean found it hard to guess what he was up to.
Perhaps it was just as Leon had once remarked
"When there's danger, you can trust Bruce completely. But when there's no danger, you'd better stay far away from him."
Inside the Great Hall.
Hermione was still writing a letter intently, her face shifting between sorrow and joy.
There were more candies and notebooks beside her, seemingly newly delivered by a messenger.
"Sean, um, I mean..."
She suddenly turned her head, and a serving of chocolate, raspberry, and nut ice cream was pressed into her hand.
"It's delicious," Sean said, before handing another serving to Justin, who was sitting nearby looking somewhat dazed from his time in the kitchens.
Hermione stared blankly at the delicious ice cream on the table, then seemed to let out a sigh of relief
"Last time, I noticed you didn't have any notebooks..."
Hermione finished in one breath, and then the roast chicken in front of Sean was obscured by a mountain of notebooks.
The Great Hall's fireplace always burned with a warm glow. Sean heard Hermione's intermittent voice
"You brought too few, and I just happened to have extras..."
Then she buried herself in her letters again, no longer looking at Sean.
Sean froze for a few seconds. He noticed that all the blank pages in the notebooks marked "To Miss Hermione Granger" had been torn out.
It seemed she had been preparing for this for a long time.
So, when Justin secretly asked him in the classroom what else Hermione might like, Sean also pondered for a long while.
"Mature notes on the seven core Hogwarts subjects," Sean said.
"Merlin's beard—"
Justin looked like he had expected as much and covered his forehead.
Then, he realized
"Alright, I can't believe I'm about to say this—you're right, Sean."
Sean stayed in the classroom for a while, mainly to help Justin arrange some things and to organize and package the notes.
Justin repeatedly assured him that Hermione wouldn't enter the classroom today, though Sean didn't know what he had done to ensure that.
Meanwhile, in the corridor.
Harry was quietly having Hedwig slip a letter describing the "Gringotts Break-in" among the other mail to be delivered to Hermione.
...
The Dungeons.
Filled with enthusiasm, Sean turned the corner with a bag full of notebooks.
Just as he hadn't expected the flying broom to come from Professor McGonagall, he hadn't expected the shortage of notebooks to be solved by Hermione.
Speaking of letters, he pulled a yellowed piece of paper from the innermost part of his bag.
This had been quietly passed to him by the old lady who often visited the orphanage. In the second week after receiving this letter, he learned of the kind elderly woman's passing.
The paper in his hand was very thick, as if made from some extremely durable material.
[Dear Sean
Life will always suddenly get better at some moment; that is my little secret.
Please continue to do something, even the smallest thing, and the gears of fate will slowly turn.
My dear child, you must believe this.
Always loving you—Milan]
(A pressed violet was tucked into a corner of the letter.)
He carefully put the letter away and entered the dungeons.
The dungeons were cold and dim, with candles casting flickering shadows across the room.
Various glass jars were stacked in the corners, containing strange biological organs floating slowly in viscous liquids.
Professor Snape's black robes swept across the dusty stone floor like the spreading wings of a bat.
When he saw that familiar technique again, his gaze grew complex.
Sean set the notebooks aside. In every interval between brewing, he would take the time to write down his observations regarding the potion steps.
He had become accustomed to constant correction and improvement.
Until the wind flipped the notebook to a page filled with handwriting.
Professor Snape appeared not to care at all about Sean's brewing, but in reality, his cold gaze had instantly swept over
He saw only a few words: the use of the Nimbus 2000.
(End of Chapter)