Hogwarts Study Panel

Chapter 484, Part 482: The Party

Aunt Petunia's words carried a hidden fear that Harry couldn't quite grasp.

But he could understand that the magical world wasn't very safe.

He looked in the mirror:
He was quite thin and small for his age, but he had grown a few inches taller in that year.

However, his jet-black hair was still the same as before—no matter how he tried to fix it, it remained messy and refused to lie flat.

Behind the lenses, the eyes glowed green, and a thin scar, shaped like a lightning bolt, was clearly visible among the hair on the forehead.

Of all Harry's unusual traits, this scar is the most remarkable.

It is not, as the Dursleys have claimed for the past decade, a memorial to the car accident that killed Harry's parents, since Lily and James Potter did not die in the accident.

They were murdered, murdered by Voldemort, the most terrible dark wizard of the last hundred years.

Harry survived the attack, only suffering a scar on his forehead.

Voldemort's spell didn't kill Harry; instead, it bounced back onto himself.

Voldemort, neither dead nor alive, escaped...

But Harry bumped into him again at Hogwarts.

At that moment, Harry inevitably thought of Sheen.

Sheen, who always read quietly; Sheen, who walked through the night at Hogwarts carrying a bloodstained sword; Sheen, who led them against Voldemort several times.

Harry looked up; the afternoon sun shone directly on the terrace.

The clouds stretched lazily across the sky, without a trace of a single star.

But Harry knew that when night fell, when wizards facing the darkness looked up, they could always find stars.

It has always been there, hanging high in the sky.

As Harry was lost in thought, the doorbell rang.

Harry ran downstairs to open the door. The sun was shining brightly over the neat garden in front of the house, illuminating the number 4 brass plaque on the Dursleys' door. Sunlight also crept onto the faces of the visitors.

"Mr. Potter."

Outside the door stood a serious-looking woman wearing square glasses.

She wore a bright green cloak, and her jet-black hair was tied up in a tight bun.

She revealed an almost imperceptible excitement, but even more so, a kindness rarely seen in Harry.

“Professor McGonagall, you—I mean, how come you…”

Harry never would have guessed it was Professor McGonagall.

His mind began to rewind as if time had reversed, recalling the trouble he had caused before, and his expression involuntarily became tense.

"I've come to accompany Mr. Green... to deliver some invitations."

Professor McGonagall was a very polite wizard, and Harry graciously accepted the envelope from Sheehan, whom she was subtly hinting at.

"What invitation..."

Harry was confused.

Is there anything that the professor needs to hand over in person?

He glanced at Sheen instinctively; the little black-haired wizard's eyes were no less confused than his.

Sheen couldn't recall any major events recently.

He and Harry stared, puzzled, at the silver-patterned invitation beside them.

Dear Mr. Potter:

We cordially invite you to Green's birthday party.

The party will be held on July 27th.

Harry suddenly looked up:

"Sheen, is it your birthday?!"

"My birthday?"

Sheen was stunned, yet somewhat bewildered.

"Oh, Sheen."

Harry stared at him for a long time without saying a word.

It wasn't until an owl flew to the window beside them that he cautiously asked,

"You've never celebrated your own birthday either?"

Listening to their conversation, Minerva McGonagall felt a bitter taste lingering in her throat.

...The night of July 26th.

It's exactly twelve o'clock.

The stars twinkled.

The twenty-seventh owl broke into the Ravenclaw Tower.

At this moment, Sheen's room was already filled with gifts.

With the advent of the magic hand mirror, wizards' already convenient communication capabilities saw a significant leap forward.

Although she didn't know who had leaked the news, Sheen received a hut overflowing with gifts from the alchemy community.

In addition, many letters and gift boxes were sent from suburban farms, London, and Hogwarts Castle.

Sheen opened the large box that had just arrived.

Inside was a wrapped gift, a greeting card, and a letter, sent by Hermione.

Dear Sheen:

I hope you are doing well.

If everything is alright for you, then...

The magic mirror trembled slightly on the table, and a bewildered face appeared in the area where Sheen could see the miniature Professor McGonagall.

Good evening, Hermione.

Sheen said softly.

A gentle breeze brushed past the stained-glass windows of the Ravenclaw Tower, where a stack of fruit platters sat on a table behind the windows.

Through the cool, thirst-quenching mung bean juice, you can vaguely see peaches, cherries, and melons.

"You've found your birthday, Sheen..."

She uttered her first words and then couldn't say anything more.

"The Book of Admission that Hagrid showed me."

Sheen said.

"Happy birthday, that's all I wanted to say, I had to tell you anyway."

This is a wonderful holiday, and I wholeheartedly celebrate it. We all do.

If anyone doesn't care about it, I'd say they're all crazy.

Hermione finished speaking in a muffled voice, and her face disappeared into the rippling mirror.

In the end, the little wizard could see her shoulders trembling.

Sheen stared at one spot for a long time, his gaze silent and unfocused.

He opened the letter and read it again.

Sheen.

I'm currently on vacation in France, but I came back as soon as I received the invitation.

I won't miss it, never.

I bought this gift for you through Owl Mail Order. It was advertised in the Daily Prophet (the newspaper is delivered every day, which is great for keeping you up-to-date with the latest developments in the wizarding world).

Did you see the photos Ron and his family took a week ago? I bet he learned a lot.

I'm so jealous of him—ancient Egyptian sorcerers were incredibly magical. There's also some interesting local history of witchcraft here.

I have finished my thesis on the history of magic, including everything I found here. I hope it's not too long—two more rolls of parchment than Professor Binns requested.

How are you?

I really want to see you, Sheen. I miss you so much, let's meet on July 27th!
Hermione sends her greetings and adds:
Ron said Percy became president of the boys' council. I bet Percy is really happy. Ron doesn't seem so happy about it.

Sheehan put Hermione's letter aside and picked up her gift.

It's very heavy. Inside is a thick book filled with complex spells and various interesting magical histories collected by Hermione.

Sheen slowly raised his head, gazing at the gently drifting white clouds in the shadow of the castle tower, watching the owl soar gracefully in the breeze.

The forbidden forest and the vegetation on the hillsides create a gentle, harmonious scene. The fields are moist and warm.

It exudes a scent that blends flowering grass, alfalfa, daisies, and rye.

The locust flowers are falling.

The world is becoming more and more beautiful.

(End of this chapter)