Hogwarts Study Panel.

Chapter 618-616: The Long Road

In the wizarding world, washing dishes and cleaning the kitchen are easy tasks.

With just a wave of her wand, Minerva could wash the dishes and plates by themselves, and they would soon be jumping into the cupboard.

Sheen watched the bowls and chopsticks run away, and then subtly flicked his finger to make the lagging bowls quicken their pace.

He was skilled enough at wandless spellcasting that he didn't need a wand most of the time.

If the "Expert" level of proficiency corresponds to silent spellcasting, then the "Master" level has the ability to cast spells without a wand.

"That's really good."

Minerva noticed this carefully and smiled as she ruffled Sheen's black hair.

This was unprecedented. Sheen didn't move, his emerald eyes gleaming, lost in thought.

"I just hope—"

A deep voice sounded, and Snape leaned closer. He stared at the young wizard, glancing quickly at Minerva. "Your combat skills haven't declined."

He gestured for Sheen to follow him.

The two walked through the living room together, and after lifting a curtain, Sheen was surprised to find that there was an area connected to the outside of the tent.

A training ground that has been seamlessly extended.

Snape had a deep-seated belief in Sheen's combat prowess, which even potions couldn't match.

It was as if something bad was approaching, and he was eager to pass on all his skills.

"The etiquette of dueling."

He said, "Keep your distance from the little wizard."

Minerva, holding a cup of red tea, watched the two bow and salute.

She smiled, exuding a serene and peaceful feeling.

Half a day passed in the blink of an eye, and Sheen lost more than he won.

Professor Snape's level of dark magic and his proficiency in Apparition were too high. Although Sheen tried his best, he still couldn't deal with Professor Snape's dark magic well in the confined space.

Of course, he still had many magical skills he hadn't used yet.

For example, the legendary Vine Stone Guardian, with its near-instantaneous and unbreakable battlefield dominance; for example, Fairy Tale Cookie, despite White's eagerness, was still refused entry into the battlefield by Sheen; for example, the Leper Gaze and Confusion Charms enhanced by the cat-leopard and white mist —

With only Fiendfyre and his dark magic, along with his transmutation magic that primarily focuses on elemental activation, Sheen would still find it difficult to defeat Professor Snape.

His apparition skills were too proficient.

Based on this alone, they are almost invincible.

Fortunately, Sheen did win.

Legend has it that even Snape couldn't handle the Fiendish Flame spell when it was at a high level of practice.

Using the disguise of Transfiguration and the surprise attack of Apparition, Sheen successfully captured Professor Snape.

"Not bad."

With Sheen's wand tip pointed at his throat, Snape showed no panic, but instead managed a smile.

"Who taught you that?"

he asks.

He had clearly also noticed the new professor who had recently appeared at Hogwarts.

"Um."

Sheen nodded.

"very good."

He subconsciously raised his hand, as if recalling the action of a certain Transfiguration professor, but ultimately froze in mid-air and withdrew it.

"Barely acceptable."

He said.

"Severus, fetch water."

At this point, Minerva said.

Snape silently picked up the bucket and glanced at Sheehan.

So a tail started following behind.

Tents were everywhere outside, all connected by a road leading to the stadium.

Every now and then, adult wizards could be seen emerging from their tents to start preparing lunch.

Some of them glanced around furtively and then lit the fire with their wands;

Some were striking matches, their faces filled with doubt, as if they thought it would definitely not work.

Three African male wizards sat there talking seriously, all dressed in long white robes, roasting something that looked like a wild rabbit over a blazing purple fire.

Another group of middle-aged American witches sat there chatting and laughing, a gleaming banner hanging high between their tents:

Salem Witches Academy.

Snape and the young wizard walked quietly, seeing pairs of wizards following them along the road.

They held hands, chatting and laughing, their faces beaming with joy.

Snape watched them silently for a while, then Sheehan felt something rough grasp his hand.

He looked up and could only see Professor Snape's cold jawline and expressionless face.

"How many buckets of water do we need to fetch, Professor?"

Sheen asked in a low voice.

"Three buckets."

Snape said.

"How much further, Professor?"

Sheen asked.

"It's very far."

Snape said quietly.

Then he met the little wizard's bright eyes.

He inexplicably felt a urge to smile, and at that moment he felt like he was going crazy.

Or perhaps he has only just regained consciousness?

Okay, that's irrelevant now.

The road ahead is still long.

We speak lightly of profound things.

We will walk this long road slowly.

A small queue had already formed next to a water tap in one corner of the venue.

The two of them joined the queue, where two men in front of them were arguing heatedly. One of them was quite old and was wearing a long, women's printed nightgown.

Another wizard, who was clearly working in the ministry, was holding up a pair of pinstripe trousers and looked so angry he was about to cry.

"Please, Archie, put it on. You can't walk around in clothes like this; that Muggle at the front door is already starting to suspect something."

"I bought these pants at a Muggle store."

The old wizard stubbornly insisted, "Muggles wear them too."

"Only Muggle women wear this, Archie. Men don't wear it; men wear this."

The wizard who worked in the department said this while waving his pinstripe trousers.

"I'm not going to wear it."

Old Archie said angrily, "I'd rather have a healthy breeze blowing on my ass, thank you."

A burst of laughter erupted around them.

However, neither Sheen nor Snape laughed.

They stared at those who were laughing, then looked into each other's eyes.

Sheen couldn't help but raise the corners of his mouth for a second.

Snape stared at him, then smiled softly.

Sheehan rarely saw Professor Snape smile, and he had an urge to record it.

That's a strange thing.

Perhaps the tent was too small and the stove too warm, which brought the three people so close together.

They've become so close that they're practically intertwined in each other's lives.

"The match is about to begin."

Snape changed the subject.

Sheehan was somewhat surprised; he had thought Professor Snape wouldn't want to talk about the game, given how much he hated Quidditch.

What he didn't know was that among everyone in the camp, some people came to watch the game, and some came to watch the game.

"The match is about to begin—what shall we bet on? Mr. Snape, I'm truly surprised you're here. Hmm, and this one too—ah, Mr. Green?!"

A voice interrupted Sheen's reply.

Snape frowned, staring at the approaching person with disgust.

"Ludo."

Snape said.

Ludo Bagman, Director of the Department of Magical Sports.

He was clearly the most striking person Sheehan had ever seen. He wore a long Quidditch robe with wide yellow and black stripes, and a huge wasp was splattered across his chest.

It seems he used to be physically strong, but now he's starting to decline.

His robe stretched tightly over his large belly, and his nose was flat, probably because a ball had broken off his nose.

But his round blue eyes, short golden hair, and rosy complexion made him look like an oversized boy.

"Ah-ho!"

"Bagman shouted happily. He hopped and skipped as if his feet were on springs. He was clearly in a state of extreme excitement."

"It's so nice to see you, Mr. Green. Minister Fudge asked me to make sure you were well taken care of, but look, I've been looking for you all morning and you're here!"

He grasped Sheen's hand and shook it vigorously.

The disgust on Snape's face was almost tangible.

"It's so good to see you, and the weather too. The weather is wonderful, isn't it? Absolutely fantastic! Where else can you find weather like this! There definitely won't be a cloud tonight—the whole preparation is going perfectly—I had nothing to do except look for you!"

Behind him, a group of haggard-looking Ministry of Magic officials hurried past, and in the distance, there were signs that someone was playing with magic fire, with purple flames leaping more than twenty feet high.

"Hello, Mr. Bagman."

Sheen said.

His face was expressionless.

In this respect, he is quite similar to Professor Snape.

"You know your section, right? And Mr. Snape? Right next to Minister Fudge, the best seats. Even Minister Fudge didn't get to sit in the very center; everything was prepared for you—"

He kept talking.

"You didn't contact us just for this, did you?"

Snape interrupted him coldly.

"Oh, of course. What shall we bet, Mr. Green? Mr. Snape?"

He said it diplomatically.

Snape glanced at him, then looked at the little wizard.

"Bet on Ireland to win, one Galleon."

After thinking about it, Sheen decided to participate.

"One—Garon?"

Buckman was stunned.

It's rumored that Mr. Hermes's assets surpass those of all pure-blood families; I'd bet a Galleon on that—this—this—

"The odds are 3 to 1, this—"

Bachman could only cautiously add one more sentence.

"I bet a thousand Galleons."

Snape interrupted him.

"Alright!"

Buckman immediately became happy.

He caught the bag Snape casually tossed to him, and without counting it, respectfully returned a piece of parchment to Sheehan before disappearing. Sheehan stared at Professor Snape, and Snape stared back at him.

This time, Sheen was the first to look away.

"Professor, we might lose—"

Sheen said.

"I don't care."

Snape said.

He cares about very few things, just a handful.

There is no place left for wealth.

As the afternoon passed, a feeling of excitement spread across the campsite like a tangible cloud.

As dusk fell, even the quiet summer air seemed to tremble with anticipation.

As night fell like a curtain over the thousands of eagerly waiting wizards, the last trace of pretense vanished:

The Ministry of Magic seemed to succumb to the inevitable trend, ceasing its opposition to the people and allowing obvious signs of magical use to emerge everywhere.

Every few steps, a phantom vendor would appear from the sky, carrying a tray and pushing a cart filled with strange and wonderful things.

It has glowing rose-shaped badges—green for Ireland and red for Bulgaria—and can shout out the team members' names in a high-pitched voice;

It has a tall green hat, decorated with clover that dances in the wind;

It has a Bulgarian sash, and the lion printed on it really roars;

There are flags of both countries, and waving them will play their respective national anthems;

There are also miniature models of real flying crossbow bolts.

There are statues of famous team members for collection; those small statues can walk around in your palm, looking quite smug.

"Go buy something."

Minerva also became excited.

Without hesitation, she bought the Irish team's badge and flag, and also brought Sheehan a statue of an Irish team member.

Sheen didn't have anything he wanted to buy, and neither did Snape.

However, seeing Minerva's excited expression, the two still smiled slightly.

Sheen's smile was light, like a bird flashing by, while Snape's so-called smile was just a slight upturn of the corners of his mouth.

"Would you like some telescopes?"

A wizard vendor pushing a cart walked up to the three of them.

The car was piled high with many things that looked like binoculars, but they were covered with all sorts of strange knobs and dials.

"Panoramic telescope,"

The wizard vendor enthusiastically pitched, "You can replay the footage—in slow motion—and if needed, it can quickly flash a match analysis. Deal, ten Galleons a unit."

"Bring three."

Snape grunted and paid.

"Thank you, Severus."

Minerva took the telescope from Snape and, like a child, insisted on hanging it around Sheehan's neck.

Just then, a deep, resonant gong sounded from somewhere in the distance of the woods. Instantly, thousands of red and green lanterns lit up the trees, illuminating the road leading to the stadium.

"Time is up."

Minerva said that she held Sheehan's hand with one hand and then gestured for Snape to hold Sheehan's other hand, and that's how they walked into the stadium.

They could hear thousands of people moving around, shouts, laughter, and intermittent singing.

"First-class ticket!"

The Ministry of Magic witch at the entrance glanced at their tickets and said, "Top tier box! Keep going upstairs, to the very top. Wait a minute..."

She stared at the group of people again.

"Mr. Green!"

She said with delight.

"Hello."

Sheen was completely baffled.

"Oh, could you please sign my autograph? I saw you at the last book signing. Did you know that *Grimms' Notebooks* is the best-selling book in the wizarding world this year? That's amazing!"

Sheen stopped and picked up the quill.

Snape, who always hated wasting time, was no longer in a hurry. He stared at the witch, thinking that she did have some discernment.

May the path of magic be open to you.

The witch spoke respectfully and happily.

What she said was a passage from Grimm's Notebooks.

May the path of magic be open to you.

Sheen returned.

The competition is about to begin.