Hogwarts Study Panel

Chapter 94, Section 93: Alchemy
"That's fantastic, Sheehan!"

Two figures swiftly swept past the Gryffindors and reached Sheen before Mrs. Hooch could even react. Sheen was still holding a Quake ball in his hand, and Mrs. Hooch hadn't even had time to hand him the flight permit.

"Oh—Sheen, what would you like to drink? Honey lemon tea? Pumpkin juice or hot cocoa?"

Justin held three different drinks in both hands, and the drinks were even steaming hot.

Sheen still couldn't see how these things appeared, but he was certain that there must be a house-elf that had suddenly appeared nearby.

"Quickly wipe it clean."

Hermione handed over a towel, looking somewhat anxious, perhaps because Sheehan's forehead was already damp with sweat.

"Ah."

Sheen took the towel and saw Mrs. Hodge walking over with a smile.

"Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw?"

Mrs. Hodge placed the permit certificate stamped with a red seal into Sheehan's hand.
Enjoy your flight, but... be careful.

Sheen nodded.

Justin and Hermione's heads were already close:
"Merlin! Is it that flight permit that no one has received in seven years?"

Justin seemed to have buried his head in the permit, even forgetting the "interrogation" he and Hermione had just decided to do.

Sheen saw him carefully holding the permit, but didn't pay any attention, and just took a small sip of hot cocoa.

The warmth dispelled the cold, and the sweetness on his tongue made him squint his eyes.

Delicious...

"cool--"

Justin read the permission word for word, and Hermione, standing beside him, gave him an annoyed look:
Sheen hasn't seen it yet.

"what?!"

……

Compared to Madam Foster, who was observing the three with great interest,

Her Gryffindor Quidditch teammates weren't so happy.

“Flight permit, Fred, remember? The captain didn’t get it in his first year either.”

George blinked.

"Of course I remember! I heard he was upset about it for a whole month!"

Fred responded with a regretful tone.

Shut up, you two!

Wood's anger nearly set the lawn ablaze.

Harry stared at Sheen for quite a while.

In fact, before entering Hogwarts, everyone told him that he was a hero, and although he tried not to become arrogant, he couldn't help but feel a little dizzy.

But soon the topic of discussion gradually shifted to Sheehan, who was a wizard who would truly achieve great things in magic, a fact that almost all the professors acknowledged.

He always studied mysteriously at Hogwarts, never attending parties, disliking games, and rarely even being seen by anyone. One could only occasionally overhear Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall talking in the Great Hall.

“Mr. Green? Yes, Professor McGonagall, he has learned the Silent Spell.”

The Silent Charm—Harry vaguely remembered that it was something only sixth-year wizards could learn.

Yet, he was somehow impossible to envy, since everyone could see him practicing spells with a pale face during class, applying ice packs, having bubbles coming out of his ears, and constantly reading in the auditorium.

If anyone were truly jealous of him and wanted to cause him trouble, the young wizards who had read his "cheap" notes on the history of magic wouldn't stand for it:

"If you cause trouble for Mr. Green and prevent him from finishing his Green Notebook, Merlin... just you wait!"

In short, he was a diligent genius, so much so that sometimes people couldn't even think about catching up.

It's said that even the Slytherins don't dare to speak ill of him easily; the last person who tried to cause trouble is still in solitary confinement.

“Harry, oh—you have an important task to complete.”

Wood's words brought Harry back to his senses... Wood had already mentioned several important tasks, and Harry had assumed this one would be the same.

But unexpectedly— "Go check on this guy—Green, see if he's joined the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. If he has, we'll have to change our plans..."

Wood frowned, his tone heavy.
"Of course, you are still the core of our Gryffindor team's plan. Working together, we will still win the Quidditch Cup!"

The task came so suddenly that Harry nodded before he could even react.

By the time he realized what was happening, his eyes were already wide open.

the other side.

Sheen laid out the flight permit flat; in fact, the permit seemed to possess some magical properties.

He placed the permit on the broom as Mrs. Hodge had requested, and the broom seemed to be engraved with some special connection.

Sheen could sense that it was very likely a linking spell, but it was much more than that.

This made him realize that Hogwarts, in a sense, was indeed the "safest" place.

In the locker room.

Sheen quickly changed his clothes, but was blocked when he tried to leave.

"Can you sense the spell above?"

A red-haired figure darted out.

Sheen nodded, when suddenly another voice rang out:
"Then you will surely be amazed by the mysteries of alchemy!"

Another red-haired figure surrounded Sheen from behind.

"This is the best subject at Hogwarts."

"—Unfortunately, it can only be learned in the sixth grade."

"Unless you're in Beauxbatons—"

"There, even young children can learn the wonderful art of alchemy!"

"Master Nicolas Flamel walked out of Beauxbatons—"

"I'm sure you've heard of this master."

"But you certainly don't fully understand."

The two suddenly spoke in unison:
"After all, he has lived for over six hundred years!"

Sheen had already recognized Fred and George, and their back-and-forth banter had sparked his keen interest in alchemy.

"So... Senior Weasley, how do I get started?"

"You have to tell us how much you felt on the broom."

Fred put down his broom, and it automatically floated in the air.

"This is the first time we've ever met anyone like us."

George raised an eyebrow.

"Mediocrity is not an option in alchemy."

Sheen thought for a moment and then pulled a notebook out of his bag.

He consciously recorded his perceptions from the very first time he came into contact with a broom.

The night before the flight test, he practically disassembled the Nimbus 2000.

Although he didn't understand the underlying principles, he knew how the broom worked, so he was able to roughly draw an anatomical diagram, along with a description of the actual effects and speculations about possible spell combinations.

Sheehan handed over his notebook, watching Fred's interest shift to gleaming. Fred glanced at Sheehan, then at the notebook:
“I said, George, you need to take a look at this—”

"You must be an alchemical genius!"

George said loudly.

"Just like us!"

Fred added, head held high.

(End of this chapter)