Chapter 43: The Magical Quidditch Ball

Justin's words left Sean momentarily stunned.

Unexpectedly, Justin suddenly became passionate, pouring out words as if he had been switched on

"We could completely let the young wizards of Hogwarts read them for free first! I believe everyone is already exhausted by the tedious History of Magic, Professor Binns's vague lectures, and those terrifyingly long history essays!"

He continued more excitedly, "If the feedback is good, we can contact a publisher to get them printed. Just think, it wouldn't just be for one magical school—students from many would need them!"

Sean did not answer immediately. He knew that the distribution and publication of books were long processes.

"The notes are not comprehensive," Sean said softly. He studied the History of Magic only for the sake of the subject itself; even if Justin's idea was somewhat feasible, it would not change his planned study progression. However, if it could generate some other benefits, that wouldn't be bad either.

"Alright, alright. But once you finish the notes, you have to let me try selling them among the young wizards, okay?" Justin's voice dropped significantly, carrying a sincere plea.

Sean nodded.

...

Hogwarts was much noisier than usual on Monday. In the corridors, classrooms, and common rooms, one could see young wizards enthusiastically discussing something at any moment.

Sean felt quite puzzled by all this, but he had no intention of digging deeper; he was preparing to head to his secluded classroom.

In the corridor, Sean suddenly heard a cough. Looking up, he realized it was coming from Sir Cadogan—the knight had tied himself to some straw, attempting to disguise himself as a scarecrow within a beautiful landscape painting of a paddy field.

However, he had forgotten to take off his armor, and he had also forgotten to remove his sword.

The portraits of Hogwarts often moved about, and sometimes they felt no different from the furniture. So, what could be more entertaining than seeing who could disguise themselves as another portrait for the longest time?

Unfortunately, Sir Cadogan had never been very good at such disguises. Imagine this: he once imitated Lady Violet, sitting in her frame, wearing her hat and speaking loudly in a ridiculous manner. It was likely quite similar to Professor Snape in drag.

"Ahem—"

Sean heard the coughing again. Feeling somewhat helpless, he tore off a piece of paper, wrote the five words "Sir Cadogan," and stuck it onto the portrait.

"Oh—little Green! You've found me again! How distressing! Why don't you go discuss Quidditch with the others instead!" Sean heard a wail.

"Oh—dear Sir Cadogan, you couldn't even last three minutes—how pathetic. It seems you owe me another bottle of spirits!" followed a teasing female voice.

Sean turned his head in confusion; this was the second time he had heard the word "Quidditch."

However, his confusion was quickly resolved. In the corridor, an older student broke through the crowd of younger wizards and pinned a piece of gold-trimmed parchment to the notice board. The first-year wizards immediately cheered—they were going to have their flying lessons! This coming Thursday and Friday.

After reading it, Sean also felt a slight sense of anticipation. The direct result of this was that by the time he reached the practice room, he was already clutching several books: *The Origins of Quidditch*, *The Magical Quidditch Ball*, *The Complete Guide to Flying Brooms*, *The Broom Care Manual*, and *The Official Quidditch World Cup Guide*.

The most well-known among them was *The Magical Quidditch Ball*. When he had obtained it from Madam Pince, she had told him that the book was "clumsily flipped through every single day, dripped on with saliva, and subjected to constant abuse by everyone."

Sean felt that, for any book, that was a compliment. Consequently, his interest in the book grew even stronger.

"Lady Ravenclaw left behind in Hogwarts—"

"—the Diadem, the moving staircases, and the portraits."

Sean answered Mr. Owl's question slightly ahead of time and entered the classroom under the owl's glaring gaze.

"Sean? What are those in your hands..."

Justin helped carry three of the books, allowing Sean's large green eyes to peek out again.

"Whoa! *The Magical Quidditch Ball*! I heard getting this book away from Madam Pince is harder than climbing to heaven!" Justin whispered in surprise.

"Hmm?" Sean was somewhat puzzled.

"Because some wizards actually use it as a pillow, and the result is a book soaked in drool," Hermione explained, looking somewhat exasperated.

"So, want to read it together?" Sean placed the book on the table.

The longing in Justin's eyes could no longer be suppressed; he was the first to pull a stool over, followed by Hermione. The three small heads huddled together.

[*Kenworth Whisp's diligent research reveals a true treasure trove of previously unknown facts regarding this wizarding sport. An enthralling book. — Bathilda Bagshot, author of 'A History of Magic'*]

Opening the book, the first things to meet their eyes were some quotes. The wizard providing the commentary was the Lady Bathilda Bagshot, whom Sean was familiar with.

[*Mr. Whisp has a bright future. If he continues his good work, one day he will have the chance to take a photo with me! — Gilderoy Lockhart, author of 'Magical Me'*]

This was the Mr. Gilderoy Lockhart whom Sean only vaguely knew. Well, it certainly sounded like something he would say.

Thus, Sean skipped this part and continued reading

[*To this day, wizards have not invented any spell that allows them to fly in human form without the aid of any tools. Consequently, wizards have tried many methods, but none have worked. The few Animagi can enjoy the pleasure of flight, but they are, after all, rare exceptions. Later wizards resorted to transforming themselves into bats.*]

"Bats?" This was clearly unexpected; Justin even cried out in surprise.

The three continued to read curiously, even though they all knew that if transforming into a bat worked, flying brooms would never have been invented.

[*This was proven to be foolish. While wizards who transformed into bats could fly to their heart's content, due to having a bat's brain, they would inevitably forget where they intended to go while in flight. Drifting aimlessly in the air became a common occurrence.*]

As they read further, Sean's green eyes suddenly lit up.

[*Now, we have become so accustomed to this fact that every wizarding family in Britain owns at least one flying broom, yet we rarely stop to ask ourselves: Why? Why has that inconspicuous broom, as a wizard's mode of transport, become a legally permitted object? Why do we Westerners not use the flying carpets so beloved by our Eastern brothers? Why are we unwilling to use flying buckets, flying chairs, or flying bathtubs—why must it be brooms?*]