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Chapter 38 - Chapter 38: The Owl Portrait

After three in the afternoon, Hogwarts had slipped into the lazy rhythm of the weekend.

For the young witches and wizards, the joy and ease of Friday even surpassed that of Saturday or Sunday, because on this day, they could throw their homework aside and thoroughly enjoy a rare moment of leisure.

Walking from the greenhouse, Sean's robe still carried droplets of dew from the clearing rain.

From Professor Sprout, he learned that Professor Snape would be brewing a potion for two days starting today, so the planned potion practice would have to be temporarily postponed.

Inheriting the knowledge of Master Libatius Borage, he now felt like guarding a mountain of gold without being able to use it.

Fortunately, he wasn't yet familiar with the improved rituals of Master Libatius Borage, so he planned to practice in the hidden room until proficient, and in the meantime, he could work on his spell proficiency.

"I'm going to chop off your head!"

"Nooo—"

The childish voice carried across the lawn, its content wildly contrasting with its innocence. Sean looked over and saw a few young witches and wizards playing the executioner game.

This game could be played by two or more people: one person thought of a word, and the others guessed using letter hints; failing to guess meant pretending to be beheaded.

Sean then heard another series of "pop, crackle" explosions from the other side of the lawn.

Looking up, he saw young witches and wizards playing with pop-bang cards. Though not very powerful, the cards were enough to singe the eyebrows of two players.

Magic offered countless ways to entertain oneself, not just Quidditch, wizard chess, or Gobstones.

In just five days, Michael had played more than ten strange and quirky games, which also explained why he was still lingering in the library.

It would have been even better if, upon returning to the dormitory, he didn't whine, "Sean, save me," and quietly read Sean's notes instead.

Sean held a beautifully packaged honeybee candy in his hand, still recalling the image of Bruce being carried off like a balloon by Senior Leon.

He noticed that whenever Bruce was about to land, Pister, just arriving, would shove another piece of candy into his mouth.

The remaining candy was all given to him by the cheerful and hearty Pister, "Hufflepuff's principle is—sharing—"

Bruce nearly shouted the words as he spoke.

The afternoon sunlight, like melted honey, lazily poured over the ancient stone walls of Hogwarts, warming the cold stones to a gentle softness.

The tower spires traced golden outlines against the blue sky, owls hooting as they swooped by.

Sean's hair lifted in the breeze, while distant cries came from the sky—it was an eagle.

Stumbling across the lawn came Justin.

"Sean!"

He called out enthusiastically.

Beside him, Hermione sighed in exasperation, a dark green book with a fire dragon design in her hands being flung open by the wind.

"My mother said nature will heal all children,"

Justin leaned close to Sean and whispered, "Sunshine, lakeside, breeze, grass… although Hermione doesn't think these are better than Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them—She's right, that book is really interesting."

Fantastic creatures, huh?

Sean thought, indeed very interesting.

Then, following Justin's pointing finger, Sean's gaze fell on one page:

[I intend to refute all the other ridiculous claims in Miss Rita Skeeter's book. I just want to clarify one more thing: I am by no means the 'heartless betrayer of the broken-hearted Seraphina Picquery.' At the time, the president explicitly stated that if I did not leave New York willingly and swiftly, she would take strict measures to expel me.]

?

Sean was momentarily speechless. It seemed that gossip knows no distinction between wizard and Muggle.

"And this one—"

[Billywig insects are native to Australia. Anyone stung by a Billywig feels dizzy and then floats away. Generation after generation of young Australian witches and wizards have tried to catch Billywigs and provoke them to sting themselves, seeking this added effect.]

'Wizards can be pretty wild sometimes, huh?' Justin shrugged and said,

"Hermione, what do you think?"

"That's right. I also read in the book that some wizards made its juice into honeybee candies."

Hermione closed the book, her voice full of authority.

Before she could finish, Sean quietly placed a piece of honeybee candy into each of their hands.

"Delicious."

Sean said seriously.

Hermione and Justin blinked at each other in surprise.

"The floating feeling is really nice… I mean, remember? Hermione and I went to Professor flitwick to request using that classroom.

The professor agreed quickly, but he said… what did he say?"

In the corridor, Justin suddenly paused.

Sean noticed a clear smile in his eyes.

"Dummy… it was—of course, no problem, but it depends on whether that owl portrait agrees,"

Hermione explained as they waited for the spiral staircase, "In the tenth century, there was only one magic school in Europe, and that was Hogwarts.

Back then, Hogwarts admitted students from all over Europe.

Later, other magical schools were founded, and many wizarding families chose schools closer to home.

Hogwarts, which could accommodate over a thousand students, had many empty classrooms. Most were magically sealed, but not ours, because…"

"There's a special owl portrait, and even previous professors might not be able to answer its questions."

Justin added with a smile, looking far prouder than Sean.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him at the same time.

With the rumble of the staircase and Justin tapping the wall, the yellowed, cracked canvas reappeared. On it, a snow-white owl wearing a velvet vest and tiny pince-nez tilted its head,

seemingly unable to simultaneously straighten its glasses and hold the old parchment.

"Stop staring! An owl is still an eagle!"

It squawked, "Don't laugh! I'm going to ask you a hard question! A question even clever young witches and wizards can't answer!"

It said viciously.

Justin's face immediately fell.

He thought for a moment, then tried to appease the owl in the portrait with a lollipop-feather quill.

"If I'm not mistaken, that's an owl feather! Even if it's just carved!"

"Oh!"

Justin whispered, and Hermione snickered; then she watched Justin fumble as he stuffed the lollipop-feather quill into Sean's hands.

"Mouse… will the mouse eat Mr. Owl?"

Justin pulled out a squeaky candy mouse in a desperate attempt to save the situation.

"Young wizard! Foolish young wizard! I am the portrait!"

The owl flapped its wings, the parchment wobbling under its claws, its whole body radiating fury.

Hermione was already laughing so hard she was shaking.

"Ah?!"

Justin looked a bit hopeless.

"Where am I supposed to find a portrait of a mouse?!"

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