Chapter 143: Sean Can Do Whatever He Wants
Hogwarts portraits were masterpieces of magical realism, imbued with the memories, emotions, and personalities of their subjects. They could move between frames, converse with the living, drink, sing, and scream.
But even in the magical world, it was unheard of for a portrait of a wizard or knight to suddenly turn into an animal.
Ron felt faint. The owl portrait was quizzing them.
"Little wizards! Foolish little wizards! The serpent's enemy… yes, who is the enemy of the serpent?"
To Ron and Harry's surprise, Hermione and Justin actually paused to think. After a moment, a slip of parchment slid out from under the door. Justin picked it up and read:
"It's the stag. In symbolic history, the stag is the 'enemy of the serpent, forcing it from its hole to kill it.'"
Mr. Owl looked disdainful. "Borrowing another's wisdom is still wisdom, I suppose, but to rely on it constantly…"
Before he could finish his lecture, he froze, and the door materialized.
Harry and Ron told themselves it was just like the Ravenclaw knocker—a magical riddle. They were buzzing with excitement. No wonder no one can find this secret organization—it's guarded by a magical owl!
But anxiety quickly followed. "Mr. Finch-Fletchley," Ron whispered, "what happens if we can't answer the question?"
"It's fine. You can get in even if you don't know the answer," Justin explained patiently.
"Huh?!" Harry and Ron exclaimed in unison. Then what was the point of all that?
"Don't you think answering riddles is fun?" Hermione asked, lifting her chin.
Harry and Ron shook their heads vigorously.
Inside, the room was nearly as large as the Gryffindor common room. Two large wooden tables stood on soft rugs, illuminated by warm jack-o'-lanterns. A fire crackled merrily in the hearth. Plants were everywhere, neatly arranged, and countless candles floated near the ceiling. In the center was a plush sofa and several individual desks.
One of the desks had a privacy screen that was slowly lowering as they entered. Behind it sat Sean. He nodded to them with a gentle smile.
Harry and Ron nodded back frantically, feeling as if they'd never truly known Hogwarts. How could a room like this exist without us knowing?
Suddenly, a voice made them jump. "Button your robes properly! You look like a twisted pretzel!"
Harry looked around wildly, finally locating the source: a mirror near the door.
"It… it's like the one at home," Ron whispered, recognizing the enchantment.
Harry nodded numbly. At this point, if Snape popped out of the wooden cupboard, he wouldn't be surprised.
"Harry… Ron…" Neville trotted over, holding a pair of pruning shears. "I'm so glad… to see you here… I wanted to tell you, but I didn't dare…"
"Oh, it's not your fault, Neville," Harry said, touched. He understood completely. If he had a secret base like this, he wouldn't tell anyone either. Except Ron and Hermione… and Sean and Justin… oh, and Neville… He realized with a smile that everyone was already here.
"Right, then," Ron said, bracing himself. "I'm ready to receive the magic."
"Receive… what magic?" Hermione asked, bewildered.
"The magic Sean used on Neville. To make him smart," Ron explained, a mix of embarrassment and anticipation on his face.
"Honestly, Harry, Ron," Justin laughed, holding his forehead. "Do you think Sean is Merlin? There's no such spell!"
"Idiots!" Hermione huffed, amused despite herself.
"Then—how did Neville—?" Harry asked desperately.
"Neville worked hard, of course. We—mostly Sean—just helped a bit," Justin explained, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.
He pointed to the bookshelf by the entrance. Ron's eyes lit up like gold coins. Green's Notes! Complete, thick, glorious notebooks! He'd never thought he'd be excited by thick books, but these were different—he could actually understand them!
"You can write your questions on the parchment at the back of the notebooks. Sean will answer them in the morning. Do you have any specific subjects you're struggling with?" Justin asked.
"Um…" Harry and Ron exchanged looks. Everything?
"Understood," Justin said, reading their expressions perfectly. "Green's Notes should cover most of it. For Herbology, ask Neville or me. For Charms and Transfiguration, ask Hermione. If you're really stuck, ask Sean at lunch. Oh, and find a time for Sean to assess your spell proficiency levels. Pick a time when he's not busy and seems in a good mood."
"Any other questions?"
Harry and Ron, overwhelmed, shook their heads.
Two new desks appeared, clearly prepared in advance by Justin. Harry and Ron sat down, staring at the steaming honey-lemon tea, the cupboard full of notes, and the table laden with sweets. They exchanged a look of pure thrill. This is brilliant!
As the fire crackled, they learned the room's name from the plaque on the door: The Room of Gifted Hope.
It wasn't until dinner time approached that they dared to ask the question burning in their minds.
"Mr. Finch-Fletchley," Harry asked tentatively, "what's our club called? What are the rules?"
Justin paused. The group—Sean, himself, Hermione, Neville—had formed naturally. They were discreet, respectful. But now…
"We need to discuss this! Everyone!" Justin announced. Sean had already left for the evening.
"Is Sean not joining?" Harry asked, confused.
"Oh—Sean is exempt from the rules," Justin said simply, looking to Hermione and Neville for confirmation.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Sean isn't like you two."
Neville nodded vigorously in agreement.
"Sean can do whatever he wants."
(End of Chapter)
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