Chapter 15: History of Magic
Professor Binns appeared through the blackboard, his head emerging first, followed by the rest of his spectral body. The moment he materialized, the temperature in the classroom seemed to drop by several degrees. Sean noticed that the flames of the candles nearest to the front of the room flickered and turned a ghostly blue.
"Emeric the Evil was a short-lived but exceptionally aggressive dark wizard," Professor Binns began the moment he arrived, without any preamble or roll call. As a ghost, he couldn't be bothered with such trivialities. "He was killed in a particularly bloody duel with his rival, Egbert the Egregious…"
His voice was a strange, monotonous drone, full of inexplicable pauses and drawn-out final syllables that made it incredibly difficult to follow.
"Uric the Oddball was an eccentric medieval wizard, famous for, among other things, wearing a jellyfish as a hat… He once slept in a room with no fewer than fifty Augureys. During one particularly damp winter, Uric, upon hearing their mournful cries, became convinced that he had died and was now a ghost. He subsequently attempted to walk through the wall of his house, an act which resulted in what his biographer, Radolphus Pittiman, described as a 'concussion of ten days' duration'…"
"I… heeeard…" Michael suddenly whispered from the seat next to Sean, perfectly mimicking the professor's dreary cadence.
In the row behind them, Anthony stopped taking notes and Terry looked up from the strangely shaped rune he was examining. Even Sean turned his head slightly. Michael, with his wide social circle, was always a source of interesting gossip.
"...that Professor Binns was a professor here at Hogwarts a long, long time ago. One day, the elderly History of Magic professor fell asleep in a chair in front of the fire in the staff room. When he woke up, he just got up and went to teach his next class, leaving—and this is the best part—his body behind!"
Michael recounted the tale with dramatic flair.
"Whoa," Terry whispered. Anthony just raised an eyebrow.
"The Self-Stirring Cauldron," Professor Binns droned on, oblivious, "is a cauldron enchanted to stir potions automatically. It was invented in the late twentieth century by Gaspard Shingleton…"
His voice echoed through the classroom, but nearly every student had mentally checked out. Some were whispering amongst themselves, while others had simply laid their heads on their desks and gone to sleep.
Sean, however, having already memorized the entire textbook, was taking meticulous notes. He noticed that the history of magic in the West didn't seem to be a continuous, linear narrative. Professor Binns's lectures consisted mostly of anecdotes about individual wizards and confirmed legends. Major events, like the invention of the Self-Stirring Cauldron, were only mentioned in the context of the person associated with them. There was no clear logical thread to his teaching, and Sean couldn't tell if that was the nature of magical history itself, or if Binns had simply lost his ability to reason when he became a ghost.
But even amidst the scattered, disjointed facts, Sean was able to piece together a clear and coherent structure. For a subject like history, he had a method that always worked.
He scribbled furiously, and as Professor Binns uttered his final word for the day, Sean turned his parchment sideways. Michael, full of curiosity, leaned over to take a look. He saw that Sean's notes were organized along a single, clear timeline, connecting all the disparate pieces of information into a logical sequence.
"Merlin's beard, Sean, you're a genius," Michael murmured, realizing that as he looked at the timeline, the previously incomprehensible facts were suddenly sticking in his memory.
Sean simply nodded, confident that this level of organization would be enough to earn him an 'Outstanding'.
The moment the bell rang, the sleeping students awoke as if by magic. After Professor Binns had drifted back through the wall, the classroom erupted in chatter as everyone packed up to leave.
"Sean, want to come play some Gobstones?" Michael asked enthusiastically.
"No, thank you." Sean was curious about the game he'd never heard of, but it was time to go to the greenhouse.
"Alright then," Michael said with a pout, watching his friend walk away.
Remembering Bruce's directions, Sean stopped in front of the first of the three greenhouses. Its high, domed roof glittered in the afternoon sun, reflecting the sky and the passing clouds. The heavy wooden frame looked ancient and sturdy, its dark green paint peeling in places to reveal the dark wood beneath.
When he pushed open the door, a wave of warm, humid air, rich with the scent of life and damp earth, washed over him.
Professor Sprout was inside, waving her wand. With a practiced flick, a path that had been covered in dirt and spilled water was instantly pristine.
"Mr. Green, you've arrived just in time. Would you be a dear and help me clear away this mess?" Professor Sprout said, picking up a small trowel and moving a dark red plant to a spot deeper within the greenhouse.
Sean looked at the long planting table. It was in a state of disarray, littered with small piles of soil, puddles of water, and various bits of plant debris—including, he noted, the deep green, sticky fragments of Angelica he'd read about.
"Scour—g—ify!" he incanted, moving his wand with the practiced motion he'd developed.
[You have practiced the Scouring Charm once to the Apprentice standard. Proficiency +1]
In the next moment, the small section of the planting table in front of him was sparkling clean. He focused his mind and began to cast the spell repeatedly.
[You have practiced the Scouring Charm once to the Apprentice standard. Proficiency +1]
[You have practiced the Scouring Charm once to the Apprentice standard. Proficiency +1]
[You have practiced the Scouring Charm once to the Novice standard. Proficiency +3]
What a diligent little sprout, Professor Sprout thought, watching the young wizard work with a warm smile on her face.
By the time he was about to collapse from exhaustion, the cleaning was done. With a wave of her own wand, Professor Sprout sent a tall glass of honey-lemon water floating into Sean's hands.
"Have a drink and rest for a bit, Mr. Green."
Sean looked at the now spotless planting table with a surge of accomplishment. Of course, most of that feeling came from the 66 proficiency points he had just earned for his Scouring Charm.
He took a quick mental look at his panel.
[Name: Sean Green]
[Status: Wizard]
[Titles: Charms Dabbler, Transfiguration Apprentice]
[Proficiency]
[Levitation Charm: Apprentice (4/300)]
[Wand-Lighting Charm: Apprentice (1/300)]
[Scouring Charm: Apprentice (70/300)]
[Transfiguration: Apprentice (3/900)]
[Herbology Knowledge: Locked (27/90)]
[Next Tier: Charms Novice (Requires three Novice-level Charms)]
[Next Tier: Transfiguration Novice (Requires Novice-level Transfiguration)]
[Wizarding Talent]
[Charms: Green (Average)]
[Transfiguration: Light Violet (Epic)]
It was a world of difference compared to just a few days ago.
Sean took a sip of the honey-lemon water. The sweetness exploded on his tongue, and he closed his eyes in pleasure. It was a hundred times better than the bitter, watery tea from the orphanage.
He sat down on a small stool that Professor Sprout had conjured for him. Doing chores is fine, he thought, but my main priority is still learning how to process herbs.
"Professor," he said, his voice clear and determined, "may I help you process your herbs?"
Professor Sprout, who had been about to walk to an oak table at the far end of the greenhouse, paused. She turned, a twinkle in her eye. "Welcome, Mr. Green. I mean to say, why not?"
Sean put down the half-finished drink and scrambled to his feet, hurrying to follow the stout, smiling professor.