Chapter 144: Two Knights
Sean hadn't seen Sir Cadogan for days, which was unusual. He found himself walking through parts of the castle he rarely visited, driven by a nagging worry.
"Young Green! Please, make the Knight stop!" Lady Violet called out from a painting of a rice paddy, looking distressed.
"Lady Violet," Sean greeted her politely, then listened anxiously as she recounted Sir Cadogan's recent "glorious deeds."
Apparently, he had been trapped in a corridor painting for three days, rambling incessantly. No one had seen him, but his poetic declamations—punctuated by screams—had echoed through the halls.
Sean slipped quietly into the dungeon. An older Slytherin student had just finished brewing a potion and, after glancing nervously at Sean and the dungeon's depths, fled the scene.
Sean spotted Sir Cadogan immediately. He was tied to a spit, surrounded by a group of trolls. If the fire beneath him hadn't refused to light, Sean suspected the knight would already be dinner.
Despite being battered and bruised, Sir Cadogan was bellowing at the top of his lungs:
"Last year, I revered the wine,
This year, I gaze upon hope, surpassing prejudice;
Last year, I stared into the fire,
This year, I am the roast on the spit...
Ah—now, I am a lion, head held high,
Lost completely in the protection of hope."
The ladies from the other portraits, following Sean, threw chunks of meat to distract the trolls and managed, with great effort, to drag the knight to safety.
"Sir Cadogan, keep it down! Consider it a favor to me!" Lady Violet hissed through gritted teeth.
"Of course, my lady. Knight's Code, Rule Four: Always offer aid to a lady in distress."
Sir Cadogan lowered his voice slightly but continued his chanting:
"That stubborn donkey stuck in the mud, listen to me:
For a moment, cease your sorrow.
Hear the blessings, scattering their petals around you."
A crashing sound from deep within the dungeon made the knight jump. "My lady, faster! Faster!"
Seeing his panic, Lady Violet finally burst out laughing, while the Fat Lady stuffed an apple into his mouth to silence him.
She then mumbled around an apple of her own, "Young Green, you'll forgive a fat lady eating an apple, won't you?"
"Yes, my lady," Sean said earnestly. "I still trust you."
"Oh—child—" The Fat Lady's eyes welled up.
Once they were safely out of the dungeon, Sean didn't ask why the knight had been singing for days. Instead, he said simply, "Sir Cadogan, you've helped more than enough."
The knight, bruised and aching, remained silent.
Only after Sean had hurried off towards the Alchemy office did he mutter:
"—What a splendid opportunity. Two children possessing the noble qualities of a knight—oh, loyalty, and courage—"
Outside, snow was falling. Sean headed upstairs, unaware of a thin, magical thread extending from the dungeon to a warm palm, unfurling into a parchment scroll between Professor Terra's fingers.
Sean Green.
He was an exceptional presence among the first-years, favored by several professors. Even the Potions Master...
It was normal for an Alchemy Master to be proficient in almost all branches of magic; that was the prerequisite for even glimpsing the mysteries of Alchemy. But this boy... he seemed too exceptional.
It had been a long time since Professor Terra had seen a student so talented yet so grounded and pragmatic. Spending months in the greenhouses wasn't easy, especially in the harsh Scottish weather.
Her impassive expression faded slightly, replaced by a confident smile. Alchemy was the only magic truly capable of changing the world.
But even that wasn't enough...
Meanwhile, in the Room of Gifted Hope.
The group gathered around the fireplace, the crackle of the flames mingling with their quiet breathing.
"The Room of Hope is a secret place," Justin began, his voice serious. "Mr. Owl won't let strangers in, but we shouldn't cause him trouble. If anyone wants to introduce a new member, everyone must agree.
"This room itself is a gift, meant for nurturing and storing hope. So, understood? If you want to mess around, go to the common room..."
Justin listed several rules, all of which were met with nods of agreement.
Harry and Ron finally felt like they truly belonged. They listened intently, not wanting to miss a word.
"If a member of the Room of Hope is in trouble, and you can help, please do so. Even if it's a mistake, we make it together."
Everyone stirred at this, excitement lighting their faces.
"And," Justin added, "trust your companions."
The others paused.
Justin's pale blue eyes shone with a perfect blend of gentleness and resolve. "We are partners. When a partner makes a decision—no matter what they say or do in this room that we don't understand—we only need to offer support. That is the purpose of a partner."
Harry and Ron felt as if they had been granted a tremendous grace. Partners. In this room, they were completely trusted.
Hermione and Neville looked stunned. Harry and Ron felt almost transcended.
"Yes..." Hermione murmured, a flicker of unease in her eyes. She trusted Sean and Justin, maybe Neville, but Harry and Ron?
Then she remembered the two boys bursting through the door on Hallowe'en eve.
"My mother told me: Trust is absolute, or it is absolutely not trust. The price of deception is high for everyone involved, because it means the deceived can never trust their companion again."
Justin seemed to be speaking to himself.
His words landed heavily in Harry and Ron's hearts. The thought of paying such a price made facing a troll seem preferable.
The conversation didn't last long. As Sean climbed the spiral staircase to meet the kind professor, snow engulfed Hogwarts, filling the Room of Hope with a soft hush. The group, united by their shared encounter with the troll, breathed in rhythm.
Justin pulled out a carefully preserved note, bearing his mother's warm words:
My child.
Trust is a house with countless windows.
Its rooms are like cedar,
The sloping sky its eternal roof.
Its guests are the most noble.
Its purpose is this:
Use your small hands—to gather Heaven.
(End of Chapter)
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