Hogwarts Study Panel

Chapter 136: Two Days

Sheen passed by here.

Malfoy and Harry were rolling around in the snow, while Ron, Crabbe, and Goyle were wrestling and punching each other, all screaming in pain.

Sheen silently summoned two snowmen and quickly pulled them apart.

Malfoy shuddered, didn't look at Sheen, gave a soft hum, and then left with Goyle and Crabbe.

As for Harry, he now felt more like a baboon, this time without even a wand.

Sheen stared at Harry and Ron for a while, the two of them keeping their heads down, feeling inexplicably guilty.

It seemed like nothing was wrong, and there was no need to go to the school clinic... so Sheen walked away.

To Harry and Ron, however, it was Sheen who seemed somewhat disappointed.

Keep in mind, they are wizards. Sheen gave them the notes before the Grimm Notes appeared, and the contents of the notes were much more detailed than the collection.

One of them went to train in Quidditch, which Sheen disliked, and the other became obsessed with the wizard Chi—but didn't learn any decent spells.

"Harry, is there absolutely no chance for us...?"

Ron couldn't even keep a smile on his face this time.

He had always wanted to join the secret organization. Think about it, all six of them had experienced the troll incident, and the other four were getting better and better—not to mention Justin's excellence in herbs and spells, even Neville had earned eleven points for Gryffindor.

People's impressions of him have changed now.

"I think so..."

"Good morning, Harry and Ron!"

Justin couldn't stand it any longer. He emerged enthusiastically from the snow in the yard, blinked,

“I said, if you want to know the answer, why don’t you go and ask them yourselves?”

……

As Sheehan walked down the hallway, he was somewhat hoping that Fred or George would suddenly appear from somewhere, but things didn't go as planned.

So, not wanting to wait any longer, Sheen went outside the castle. Through his occasional observation of Harry, he learned that Gryffindor had another training session that afternoon.

By the stained-glass window on the third floor of the castle, Professor McGonagall watched the young wizard leave his footprints alone in the snow.

Behind her were several Ravenclaws sneaking around.

"Little wizard! Foolish little wizard!"

The sudden appearance of Mr. Owl caused them to stumble and quickly run away.

Mr. Owl glanced at the wizards led by Roger, his eyes revealing a human-like sense of loss and confusion.

So today, the eagle knocker in the Ravenclaw common room seemed to malfunction, asking several difficult questions and leaving several Ravenclaws standing outside in the wind for quite some time.

At the Quidditch pitch, Sheehan had reached the door of the locker room.

Two red flames suddenly appeared in the snow.

"Seeing you at the Quidditch pitch—"

Fred burst out of the snow, holding a badge in his hand.

"We knew then that another genius had emerged in the field of alchemy!"

George looked pleased.

"Fred, damn it! Where's my prefect's medal?!"

At that moment, a neatly dressed person with an extremely agitated tone walked out of the locker room.

It was Percy, the Gryffindor prefect. He was a law-abiding citizen who liked to yell at those who broke the rules. Ron described him as a study fanatic, proud, and inflexible.

He was holding a book titled "How Prefects Gain Power," which made Fred purse his lips. He shouted:
“I’m George, Percy! Didn’t ‘How Prefects Gain Power’ teach you to tell this? What a shame—”

He drew out the last syllable of his voice and winked at Sheen.

"Okay—George! Tell me, where is my prefect's medal!"

He let out a loud roar.

"That was a joke. I'm actually Fred!"

"Give it to me!!!" And so Fred was chased around by the furious Percy.

George and Sheehan looked at them, and then George took a badge out of his pocket:
"I don't understand, why do we have to wipe the prefect's badge so many times... Run west, Fred!"

He shouted. Fred then turned around.

"Oh, right, speaking of floating quill pens—"

Before he finished speaking, Sheen took out the alchemical artifact he had made.

"I knew you had the same talent as us—qualified! Very qualified!"

George blinked, then put the floating quill in his bag, along with the prefect's medal.

"I can't believe you finished it in just two weeks! You're a natural at alchemy!"

Okay, you have notes or a diary or something, right? You can write now—although it's not a proper alchemical attitude, you don't even know what alchemy is!
"Of course, Professor Terra will be very interested in you; we just need to create some chance encounters..."

Sheen handed over his notes, and George patted him on the shoulder, giving him a "we're definitely the same kind of people" look.

"Professor Terra, what is that?"

Sheen asked.

“Oh! Good question! Professor Terra is a member of the council of the International Alchemy Association and the most mysterious professor in the academy—no one except sixth and seventh-year wizards can see her.”

The important thing is... Fred! On the right!

George shouted, alerting Fred, who was playing hide-and-seek with Percy around the lounge.

Then they saw Percy heading this way aggressively.

"This isn't good—let's go, Green!"

George dashed off in a flash, replying before he left.
"Don't worry, we'll come for you, great Green!"

"The great Green?"

Percy was furious, but he seemed to have heard something interesting and stopped to look at Sheehan.

“Oh, Mr. Green.”

Percy tried his best to appear friendly.

This Green is no ordinary person; he passed the flight test and wrote the Green Notes, which are now selling like hotcakes.

Percy had read the book, and even he had to admit that the part about the history of magic was very well written.

In general, whether he becomes a Quidditch star or a professor in the wizarding world, it's worth it for him to force a smile.

"Hello, Mr. Weasley."

Sheen responded politely.

"Oh, just call me Senior Percy."

He seemed very approachable.

Outside the locker room, the oak door was ajar, letting in the warm light and faint sounds of conversation from inside. At the edge of the snow, Fred had his arm around George's shoulder.

"I'm going to throw up my lunch—just call me 'Broken' Senior Xi..."

Fred made a funny face.

Unusually, he didn't hear George's voice this time.

He tilted his head and could only see George staring blankly at a notebook.

"The great Grimm's Notebook?!"

Fred feigned a gasp, only to find George still lost in thought.

He immediately became serious.

"Ah...it took two days to barely make a floating quill pen..."

"That's strange, George, is this English?"

(End of this chapter)