Chapter 44: The Wizard's Broom

“Merlin, why is that? Because it’s cool enough?”

A look of confusion flickered in Justin's pale gray eyes.

Just then, a violent gust of wind swept past the window, causing the magical lantern hanging on Justin's wall to sway uncontrollably.

He poked Sean and Hermione, finally rousing them from their trance.

Hermione frowned slightly, her cheeks puffed out, about to say something, when she saw the wide-eyed Justin pointing toward the window.

Beside the ancient, three-sided enclosing walls, a figure flew toward the castle like a bolt of lightning.

The figure swept through the open fanlight window, bringing with it a whistling gale, the tip of a broomstick still gleaming in the sunlight.

“Because it’s cool enough... I think I get it now.”

Justin's murmur was carried away by the wind, but the eagerness in his eyes was unmistakable.

“Stop daydreaming, Justin... First-year students are strictly forbidden from flying brooms without permission. Haven't you memorized the school rules?”

Hermione's soft voice shattered the blond boy's fantasy.

“Huh?!”

Justin stood there, stunned and motionless like a half-cut log.

“Don't tell me you came to school without learning the rules.”

Hermione wasn't particularly enamored with the upperclassman who had just flown by on a broom; instead, she was more concerned with the dazed little Hufflepuff.

“Goodness, if you haven't memorized the rules, how can you ensure you won't break them?”

“I don't know... I thought Hogwarts wouldn't be that strict...”

Justin was momentarily lost for words.

He instinctively looked toward Sean.

“Sean, have you memorized the rules?”

“Yeah.”

Sean's nod caused the light in Justin's eyes to dim completely.

In fact, to ensure he could stay at Hogwarts no matter what, Sean had even memorized the school rules backward.

Hermione was right; first-year wizards were forbidden from riding brooms on their own, but it was a different story if they had Professor Hooch's permission.

While not many first-years managed to achieve that, there was always hope.

“Honestly... here, take this.”

Hermione placed a brown-covered book with gold lettering into Justin's arms; it was filled with precise notes.

The little Hufflepuff's dim eyes brightened again.

As he clutched *Hogwarts: A History*, he heard Hermione mutter "idiot" under her breath.

“And besides, wizards don't use magical brooms just to look cool...”

Hermione flipped a page in *Quidditch Through the Ages*.

The three small heads huddled together again.

【Ancient wisdom has taught wizards that if their Muggle neighbors knew the full extent of their abilities, those Muggles would find ways to exploit them. Therefore, if wizards wanted to possess a means of flight within their homes, such a thing had to be something discreet, something easily hidden. What happened next is well known to all.】

“So they chose brooms?”

Justin hadn't expected that answer, but soon, he nodded with understanding.

“If my neighbors were wizards, I’d also find it hard to resist wanting to know about them.”

The afternoon sun slanted through the fanlight window, carving the small classroom into a warm space of alternating light and shadow.

A few specks of dust danced slowly in the beams of light, like countless tiny, golden sprites, before suddenly trembling.

The three studying Quidditch were startled as a rhythmic thumping against the wall echoed from outside once more.

“Oh! It's Ernie. If he knocks on the adjacent wall, it means he'll be waiting for me in the Great Hall.”

Justin suddenly snapped out of it. He whispered to Sean,

“It's about Professor Snape. I asked Ernie and the others to help out. After all, Mother says there is strength in unity.”

Sean nodded thoughtfully, and the two bid Hermione farewell and left the classroom.

Justin added one last thing

“Hermione, don't worry, I won't tell anyone where this classroom is. After all, this is our secret! I promise...”

Hermione, immersed in her book, seemed not to care at all, but after Sean and Justin left, her eyes grew slightly red.

***

In the Great Hall.

A short, stout blond boy was sitting somewhat restlessly. He held a book, but his eyes kept darting toward the door.

“Well, Finnigan told me to wait for him here, so he'll definitely come. I'd rather worry about Friday's flying lesson than this.”

“Ernie!”

Justin scanned the Great Hall and spotted the boy at the Hufflepuff table.

“Justin!”

The stout boy responded instantly, and Justin quickly led Sean over to him.

Looking at this not-unfamiliar face, much information flashed through Sean's mind.

Ernie Macmillan.

A ninth-generation pure-blood Hufflepuff, and a Hufflepuff who was equally sincere.

He had once mistakenly believed Harry was the Heir of Slytherin, but after Hermione was petrified, he gradually realized Harry was innocent and publicly apologized to him, an apology Harry accepted.

What left a deep impression on Sean, however, was during the Battle of Hogwarts, when Professor McGonagall said to Ernie, who was serving as a Prefect

“Prefects, once you hear my command, organize your houses and ensure your students are delivered to the evacuation points in an orderly fashion.”

And Ernie Macmillan had replied with rare seriousness

“And what if we want to stay and fight?”

...

Ernie brought joyful news: Professor Snape was grading assignments today and had already been in his office for quite some time.

Sean immediately took the brewing tools and ingredients he had brought from the classroom and set off toward the dungeons.

As for why he insisted on brewing in the dungeons, it was because first-year wizards were not permitted to take cauldrons out of the dungeons. If they were, one could imagine Hogwarts would soon be filled with many accidental explosion experts.

Potions was not a safe subject; much like how chemical experiments must be conducted in a laboratory, such dangerous activities could not be performed haphazardly.

Wisps of white smoke began to float above the cauldron once more. Sean's expression was focused, his hands never stopping.

Before long, the cauldron began to bubble rhythmously.

The only sounds in the dungeon were the faint sound of breathing and the boiling of the cauldron.

By the time Professor Snape left his office and arrived in the dungeon, Sean had already left, satisfied with his three points of proficiency.

Master Libax Polachi was right; without sufficient mental willpower, it was impossible to complete the refinement ritual.

Since his last potion-making session, Sean had been plagued by a persistent fatigue. It was an exhaustion that came from within, and according to Master Libax Polachi's estimation, it would last at least five days.

While waiting for his fatigue to fully recover, Sean was not idle. If one had to describe what he was doing in a single sentence, it would be

He was playing hide-and-seek with Professor Snape.

(End of Chapter)