Chapter 38: 38: The Owl Portrait

After three in the afternoon,

Hogwarts entered a lazy weekend mode.

For the young wizards, the joy and relaxation of Friday even surpassed that of Saturday or Sunday, because on this day, they could cast their homework aside and thoroughly enjoy their rare leisure time.

Walking all the way from the greenhouses, the hem of Sheen's robes was still damp with dew from the clearing rain.

He had learned from Professor Sprout that Professor Snape was starting a two-day potion brewing session today; therefore, the potion-making schedule had to be temporarily shelved.

Having inherited the knowledge of Master Libax Polarchy, he now felt like someone guarding a mountain of gold that he couldn't use for the time being.

Fortunately, he was also unfamiliar with the improved rituals designed by Master Libax Polarchy, so he planned to head to the Room of Requirement to practice until he was proficient, while also grinding his spell proficiency in the process.

"I'm going to chop your head off!"

"Noooo—!"

The contrast between the youthful voices and the violent content coming from the distant lawn was stark. Sheen cast a glance over; it turned out to be a few young wizards playing the Executioner game. This game could be played by two or more people: one person thinks of a word, and the others try to guess it based on hint letters. If they fail, they have to pretend to have their heads chopped off.

Sheen then heard the "pop-crackle" of explosions coming from the other side of the lawn. Looking into the distance, he saw some young wizards playing Snap-Bang Crackers. The power of these crackers wasn't immense, but it was enough to singe the eyebrows of two young wizards black.

There were actually many ways to entertain oneself in the wizarding world, not just Quidditch, Wizard's Chess, Gobstones, and so on. Michael had played more than ten strange games in just five days, which was also why he was still stuck in the library.

It would have been even better if, instead of wailing "Sheen, save me!" when returning to the dormitory, he would just quietly read Sheen's notes.

Sheen held the exquisitely wrapped Fizzing Whizbees in his hand. The image of Senior Bruce being led away like a balloon by Senior Leon still seemed to linger before his eyes. He had observed that whenever Senior Bruce was about to descend, Senior Pist, who had just arrived, would stuff another piece of candy into his mouth. The remaining portion of the candy was then given entirely to Sheen by the smiling, honest-looking Pist.

"The Hufflepuff philosophy is—to—SHARE—!" Senior Bruce had practically howled that sentence.

The afternoon sunlight, like melted honey, spilled lazily over the ancient stone walls of Hogwarts Castle, ironing the cold stones into something warm and soft. The spires of the towers outlined golden silhouettes against the azure sky, and owls hooted as they soared past. Sheen's hair was ruffled by the wind. From the distant sky came a loud cry—a goshawk. And running stumbling across the lawn was Justin.

"Sheen!" he called out loudly and enthusiastically.

This caused Hermione, who was nearby, to puff out her cheeks in exasperation. In her hands, a dark green book with dragon patterns was being blown open by the wind.

"Mother says nature heals all children," Justin said softly, leaning close to Sheen. "Sunlight, the lakeside, the breeze, the grass... although Hermione doesn't think these are as good as *Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them* in her hands—"

She was right; that book was far too interesting.

*Fantastic beasts, huh?* Sheen thought. *Indeed, very interesting.*

Then, following Justin's guidance, Sheen's gaze fell upon a specific page

【I wish to refute all other absurd claims in Miss Rita Skeeter's book. I only wish to state one thing simply: I am by no means the "heartbreaker who abandoned a heartbroken Seraphina Picquery." At the time, the President explicitly stated that if I did not leave New York voluntarily and swiftly, she would take severe measures to expel me.】

?

Sheen was somewhat speechless. It seemed that gossiping knew no distinction between wizards and Muggles.

"And this—"

【The Billywig is an insect native to Australia. Anyone stung by a Billywig will feel dizzy and then proceed to float aimlessly about. Generations of young Australian wizards have attempted to catch Billywigs and provoke them into stinging them, all to obtain this side effect.】

"Wizards can be quite mad sometimes, don't you think?" Justin said, spreading his hands. "Hermione, what do you say?"

"Exactly. I even read in the book that some wizards turned its juice into Fizzing Whizbees," Hermione said, closing her book with a voice full of conviction.

Before she could finish, Sheen silently placed a Fizzing Whizbee into each of their hands.

"It's delicious," Sheen said seriously.

The remaining Hermione and Justin, having finally reacted, stared at each other in wide-eyed silence.

...

"That feeling of floating is really nice... I mean, do you remember? Hermione and I went to Professor Flitwick to ask to use that classroom. The professor agreed very quickly, but he said... what was it?"

In the corridor, Justin suddenly stalled. Sheen saw a clear twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

"Silly... he said—'Of course, no problem, but it depends on whether that owl portrait agrees,'" Hermione explained as the three of them waited for the moving staircase. "The professor said that in the tenth century, there was only one magic school in Europe, which was Hogwarts. At that time, students were recruited from all over Europe. Later, as other magic schools were established, many wizarding families chose schools closer to home. Since Hogwarts can accommodate thousands of people, it has many empty classrooms, most of which have been sealed by magic. However, ours isn't one of them, because..."

"There is a very special owl portrait, and even successive professors can't always answer its questions," Justin added with a grin, looking much more proud than Sheen.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him simultaneously.

With the rumbling of the stairs and Justin's knocking on the wall, a yellowed, cracked canvas reappeared. On it, a snow-white owl wearing a velvet waistcoat and tiny pince-nez glasses tilted its neck. It seemed perpetually unable to adjust its glasses and hold the old parchment steady at the same time.

"What are you looking at! An owl is still an eagle!" it squawked. "No laughing! I am going to ask you a difficult question! A question that even the cleverest young wizards cannot answer!" it said fiercely.

Justin's face immediately fell. He thought for a moment, then tried to appease Mr. Owl in the portrait with a lollipop quill.

"If I'm not mistaken, that's an owl feather! Even if it's just a carving!"

"Oh!" Justin let out a low cry.

Hermione let out a "pfft" of laughter, watching Justin pretend to be flustered as he shoved the lollipop quill into Sheen's arms.

"Do... do mice eat Mr. Owl?" Justin pulled out a Screaming Sweet Mouse in an attempt to salvage the situation.

"Young wizard! Stupid young wizard! I am a portrait!" The owl flapped its wings, the parchment wobbling under its claws, the entire bird looking absolutely livid.

Hermione was already shaking with laughter.

"Ah?!" Justin looked somewhat desperate. "Where am I supposed to find a portrait of a mouse!"

(End of Chapter)