Professor Snape was nothing like Professor McGonagall. When Sean messed up a step, McGonagall would gently guide him toward the right one, helping him cast a proper Transfiguration spell. Snape, on the other hand, would sneer coldly, make him admit his mistake, and then bury the correct answer in a barrage of mockery.
Sean, expecting this, quickly jotted down the hidden answer. Snape stopped his verbal onslaught.
The cauldron's fire died down, and the scarf, like a seasoned warrior, shielded Sean from the chilly draft, letting him focus on the parchment.
Snape stared icily at him and the parchment scribbled with notes on the Fusion Enlightenment Method.
A priceless piece of knowledge—something any potion master would kill for...
Snape never imagined anyone could be foolish enough to share such knowledge. Yet here was the fool, standing right in front of him.
An indescribable, unsettling disgust churned behind his expressionless face.
"You shouldn't tell anyone... Sean Green," he hissed darkly.
"But not bad. A decent method."
Sean, exhausted, almost thought he'd misheard. He mumbled, "What did you say, Professor?"
"Decent—now get out! Now! Sean Green, take your idiotic tools and go!"
Snape's sudden fury erupted, and Sean was practically thrown out. A moment later, ten gold Galleons were tossed from the dungeon, landing in his hands.
Safely in the corridor, Sean shuffled away, vowing never to speak when he was this tired again.
"I knew you were a brave one!" came a booming laugh. Sir Cadogan, doubled over with laughter, clutched his stomach. "Oh, young Green, I've got to tell—"
He was laughing so hard tears streamed down his face, not noticing Sean had already reached the end of the corridor.
"Sir Cadogan, he..." Sean started, turning to the Fat Lady, who'd shifted to this portrait. The knight could be a bit too bold sometimes...
Just look at his track record: charging at Headmaster Black on his pony, throwing punches and kicks at him, mocking Professor Snape right at the dungeon door...
A scream echoed from the dungeon entrance, and Sean's gaze lingered there.
"Oh, my foolish knight... I hope in heaven he learns to run a bit farther," the Fat Lady sighed, wiping a tear. Her eyes drooped, hand covering her face, though she kept sneaking glances at Sean when he wasn't looking.
Sean stood stunned. He hadn't expected Sir Cadogan's fate to sound so grim.
"Fat Lady, you're scaring young Green," said Violet, stepping out of another portrait with a tray of fruit. She spoke softly, trying to comfort him.
Then Sean noticed the Fat Lady's "tears" were just water smeared on her face.
Without a word, he walked away.
"Well, are you happy now?" Violet snapped, shoving an apple into the Fat Lady's mouth. "Fat Lady, let's hope this apple shuts you up."
---
In the Great Hall, Hermione was arguing with Harry and the others as they entered.
"I've figured out something about Professor Snape," Harry said to Hermione. "On Halloween, he tried to get past that three-headed dog. It bit him. We think he's after whatever that dog's guarding. The dog—Fluffy, that's its name—it's Hagrid's. Hagrid got it from some Greek guy he met at a pub last year. Hagrid lent it to Dumbledore to guard something really valuable."
"Yeah, Hermione, don't you get it? At the Quidditch match, it was him again—cursing Harry's broom, trying to kill him!" Ron added, fuming.
"It wasn't Professor Snape! He wasn't the one casting the curse!" Hermione shot back.
"Honestly, Hermione, you always think every teacher's a saint!" Ron groaned.
"If you don't believe me, go ask Sean!" Hermione said, stomping her foot.
The three parted ways.
"Of course we could ask Sean," Ron muttered, exasperated. "Because Sean's bound to agree with her. He knows her better than us..."
Harry wasn't sure if Ron was right or wrong, but he grew even more worried about their next steps.
---
Not far from the Gryffindor table, where the most pudding was piled, Sean was eating. Justin and Hermione were watching Harry and Ron whisper nearby.
"What do you think? Will Sean agree?" Hermione asked, a bit worried. "Justin... I mean, aside from being a bit clueless."
She usually found Harry and Ron exasperating, but when Justin had tipped her off about their odd behavior, she'd chosen to hear them out.
Think about it: Harry, with his big reputation, had no skills to match it. Someone at Hogwarts was out to kill him, and he'd even misjudged who it was.
That person was like a venomous snake, slithering in the shadows, ready to swallow poor, orphaned Harry whole.
And Harry? He hadn't even mastered basic spells! All he did was mess around on the Quidditch pitch, slacking off!
"Sean?" Justin said with a gentle smile. Both turned to look at Sean, who was flipping through a notebook that shot out sparklers with every page turn—a "gift" from the Weasleys, full of surprises.
"What do you think, Hermione? How long until they're brave enough to ask him?" Justin said.
"Those two idiots..." Hermione sighed.
"Don't worry, Hermione. Give them time. Not everyone's born standing in the sunlight," Justin said, his tone reassuring but his eyes slightly downcast, not quite landing on Harry or Ron.
Thanks to his mother's teachings, Justin had a knack for understanding people. Harry was an orphan, but his foster family took care of him—no need to worry about him going cold or sick. Ron had a big family, and his insecurities stemmed from his accomplished brothers and friends, but he was undeniably happy. As his mother always said, money didn't always equal happiness.
Harry might be scrawny, but he never lacked energy in Charms class. Ron might be poor, but the packages the Weasleys sent him rivaled those of any other young wizard.
As the fireplace roared, a faint spark flickered in Justin's eyes.
Outside, heavy snow fell, blanketing the harsh ground. His voice faded into the stormy wind: "Hermione, you know... unlike them, some people are too brave, too quiet. We forget the pain they carry."