Hogwarts Study Panel

Chapter 543, page 541: Legendary Talent (4k)

Ariana gazed at it devoutly, at her god.

Its tail twitched restlessly, making her feel ticklish as she was gently wrapped in it.

That phrase, "Make a wish upon me," is like the first rays of spring, causing all things to slowly revive.

Ariana has forgotten when the last time someone made her feel warm.

Her lips opened and closed, but the sounds she made were still difficult to hear.

The black cat wasn't in a hurry at all. It lay down, its front paws like cushions, supporting its furry head.

Its gaze was warm... and so was its tail.

The restless tail twitched again, and some black balls rolled off one by one.

The first dumpling transformed into a campfire, and warm flames rose up.
The second dumpling produced a strange silver basin, with silver threads floating around inside.

"what……"

The timid witch opened her eyes wide.

"Some simple magic."

The black cat shook its head slightly.

"what……"

The timid witch froze, her bright eyes dimming. She dared not look at the campfire, nor at the black cat.

“Come closer, Miss Ariana. Magic is not frightening in the eyes of the gods, no matter who casts it.”

The black cat's tail pulled Ariana closer to her as she gasped in surprise.

"Make a wish upon me, lucky Miss Ariana."

The black cat's voice was warm.

"Ah...ah...ah..."

Ariana's eyes darted away, her body tense.

"Brother Albus..."

The black cat was startled, as if it had been struck in the chest by something.

It fell silent for a moment.

So this wasn't a meaningless pronunciation after all?
Albus... Albus... How afraid she was of forgetting him that reciting his name became an instinct.

"Brother Albus... Brother Aberforth..."

The timid witch's deep blue eyes gleamed with hope.

The black cat listened quietly, listening to the girl's innermost thoughts.

Suddenly, the girl seemed to remember something and hurriedly took out a wilted rose from her pocket.

"The master of dreams and mists, the bridge between life and death, the symbol of eternal good fortune... I offer you flowers... With flowers, you possess good fortune..."

Ariana recited the mantra devoutly.

"I want to see my brothers Albus and Aberforth..."

She glanced cautiously at the wilted flower in her hand, her eyes darting around, a suppressed panic showing on her fair face.

Would the gods reject her flowers?
The black cat sat up and let the timid witch offer it the flower.

Then, the rose floated up, and in Ariana's horrified eyes, the rose drifted around the campfire, scattering its wine-red petals until it finally formed a peculiar circle.

“I heard your prayer, I received your sacrifice, Ariana…”

The black cat said that the stars were twinkling above its head.
"I will grant your wish."

Some wisps of mist drifted over naturally, and the black cat knew very well that this was Dumbledore's dream. As for why the black cat also had Aberforth's dream wisps, that was thanks to the old Hufflepuff.

After the publication of "Gods and Dreams", Sheen received many balls of thread from who-knows-where.

It is a wonderful thing to be able to enter someone else's dream. As Ariana carefully observes the wizard in the dream, the black cat is also fiddling with its ball of yarn.

It saw that Ariana's lines had suddenly swelled up so much that they were almost one of the thickest balls of yarn.

The wisps of mist were key to the black cat's prolonged stay at the border.

After a period of observation and understanding, the black cat divided the yarn balls into four categories.

A small ball of thread: can increase the dwell time by about ten seconds;
Normal yarn ball: can increase the dwell time by about one minute;
A slightly thicker ball of yarn can increase the dwell time by about three minutes;

Thick yarn: can increase the dwell time by about ten minutes.

The black cat has several thick balls of yarn, namely Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, Grandpa Marcus, Justin, Harry, and Mrs. Roland, among others.

There were a dozen or so slightly thicker balls of yarn, while there were over a hundred normal and weak balls of yarn.

Some of the yarn balls, the black cat didn't even know their origin, probably brought by "Gods and Dreams" and stories of good fortune.

Now, the black cat has another slightly thicker ball of yarn, which comes from the timid witch in front of it.

It looked at the smiling girl, who seemed to be having a sweet dream.

The fog had already begun to swirl, and it was time for the black cat to leave, but Ariana's ball of yarn allowed it to rest a little longer.

It picked up the Pensieve, which had been transformed from the tail ball, placed some memories of Principal Albus inside, and then casually extracted the few impressions it had of Aberforth.

After doing all that, it finally lay down on the ground, feeling at ease.

Suddenly, the ground trembled.

The black cat saw a small wooden house rise from the ground.

Strangely, the wooden house was only partially completed; apart from the four wooden walls, it was practically empty inside.

But no matter what, a heart always finds shelter from the wind and rain.

The black cat's lips curled up slightly.

It gazed at the deep night sky, its silhouette gradually blurring.

“Ariana…they are looking for you…”

it says,

"If one day, the night becomes the prelude, and the fog blurs the boundaries, the bridge will open for you at dawn."

The witch, emerging from her dream, looked bewildered.

She looked at her god, and the metaphor fell into her ears.

“You will truly meet, not in a dream.”

The black cat approached her cheek and disappeared into the swamp.

Ariana frantically searched around and finally saw the small wooden house and the small silver basin.

Her cheeks were still warm.

Her gaze seemed to have found its refuge.

She recognized it; it was the Pensieve.

It contains memories.

Some say that if something could travel faster than the speed of light, then people could travel through space and go back to the past.

Since human thought travels faster than the speed of light, this means that every time a person is lost in memories, they have already traveled back in time.

In other words, every time one person thinks of another, they meet once.

According to this theory, they may have already reunited many times.

……

Hogsmeade Week is getting closer.

The wizards grew increasingly excited.

The Great Hall was noisy all day long, while the little black-haired wizard in the corner was taking stock of his gains.

Since the border area returned to normal, he has gained quite a bit.

The first is his "slightly open third eye." In the border region, he can foresee parts of the future, and it seems to be under his control...

So, is he a prophet now?

He was eager to know the future.

For example... Voldemort's location, etc.

The second point is the time he has been staying at the border, which is already eight hours and twenty minutes.

Just before dawn, he could even bring out wandering souls.

Headmaster Dumbledore had been waiting for that day.

The third is his talent for prophecy.

Come to think of it, he had completely forgotten to check on this matter.

He had rarely experienced such tension before; his breath hitched slightly as he stared intently at the panel.

[Wizard Sheen, Prophecy Magic Talent: Red (Legendary Talent) (No further enhancement required). Note: Normal wizards have Green.]

[Evaluation: You are the only certainty born from countless unknown magics. The future and the past hold no secrets for you; your gaze is naturally drawn above an era.]

This is... a legendary talent?

Sheen's breath hitched.

But at the same time, he was somewhat confused.

His prophetic magic was stuck for several months before it could be activated. It doesn't seem like something a legend would do...

Or……

For some reason, Sheen thought of the night sky at the border, where celestial bodies continued their trajectories, and with just one glance, fate seemed to unveil its veil of mystery.

"Maybe... I really do have talent?"

What kind of magical abilities will a legendary talent bring?

"Your third eye—has been opened—"

The auditorium doors suddenly opened, and Professor Trelawney glided toward them as if she were on wheels.

She wore a green dress covered in metallic sequins, making her look more like a shimmering, oversized dragonfly.

She excitedly approached Sheehan, muttering to herself.

"I've waited for you... May I learn the magic of prophecy from you?"

Professor Trelawney's eyes seemed to be glistening with tears.

Sheen couldn't understand it.

"Hey!"

Hermione immediately objected, staring intently at Professor Trelawney.

“Sheen said that prophetic magic is inaccurate. He won’t follow you… Wait, what did you say?”

Professor Trelawney then turned his gaze to Hermione, whose teary eyes seemed to be asking, "Who are you?"
“I am Hermione, Hermione Granger—”

Hermione looked like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.

Professor Trelawney glanced at Hermione before turning his gaze to Sheehan.

"Professor, I'm afraid I can't teach you..."

Sheen said carefully.

He indeed did not feel his prophetic magic.

Logically speaking, this is his strongest talent at present, but he can only use it in the border area, and he may not even be able to predict the future outside the border area.

What can he teach Professor Trelawney?

"Oh, oh, not fully awakened yet... But at night, you will understand, child watched over by the stars..."

Professor Trelawney left, looking rather cryptic.

"I simply can't believe it—she's a professor—she learned from you—"

Hermione kept muttering to herself, and after a while, she stared at Sheehan suspiciously.

"Sheen, can you really use prophetic magic?"

Sheen nodded thoughtfully, then shook his head.

"Oh my god! I knew it!"

Hermione gasped when she saw him nod.

Hermione was puzzled again when Sheehan shook his head.

What do you mean?

Hermione asked, puffing out her cheeks.

"Prophecy magic is inaccurate magic."

Sheen said.

"Oh--"

Hermione gave a dry reply, then subconsciously glanced at a witch with her head down and shoulders heaving.
"So... do you know what happened to Lavender?"

Sheen looked at the witch at the Ravenclaw table:
"Her rabbit is dead."

"You really know?!"

Hermione was taken aback, and she quickly went to the Gryffindor table:
"What's going on, Lavender?"

Hermione asked with a hint of anxiety, and Harry and Ron joined them from somewhere around the room.

"She received a letter from home this morning,"

Parvati, sitting next to her, whispered.

"Her rabbit, Binch, was killed by a fox."

“I feel sorry for you, Lavender.”

Hermione covered her mouth as she spoke.

"I should have known!"

Lavender said in unbearable pain,
Do you know what day it is today?

"Uh--"

"October 16th! 'The thing you fear most will happen on October 16th!' Remember? She was right, she was right!"

At this moment, the surrounding students all gathered around Lavender.

Simo shook his head seriously.

Hermione hesitated for a moment, then said:

"You—you've always been afraid that Binch will be bitten to death by a fox, haven't you?"

"Actually, it might not necessarily be a fox,"

Lavender said, looking up at Hermione with teary eyes,

"But I'm obviously afraid the rabbit will die, aren't I?"

"Oh."

Hermione said. She paused again. Then—

"Is Binch an old rabbit?"

No—no!

Lavender said, sobbing.
"It's—a baby bunny!"

Pavati put his arm around Lavender's shoulder even tighter.

"Then why are you afraid it will die?"

"Hermione said. Parvati glared at her irritably.

"Let's analyze this rationally,"

Hermione turned to the crowd and said,

“What I mean is, Binch didn’t die today, right? Lavender only found out about it today,”

—Lavender wailed loudly—

"And she couldn't have been afraid of this all along, because she was very shocked when she heard the news—"

“Ignore Hermione, Lavender,”

Ron said loudly,
"She doesn't care about other people's pets at all."

"Then I'll tell you! This is just a psychological suggestion. Whatever happens to you today, your suggestion will be amplified infinitely. That way, whatever she says will be right!"

Hermione stared at Ron,

"If you're looking for a true prophet..."

Hermione paused, said nothing, and strode towards Sheehan.

Sheen was right...

Hermione thought,
Trelawney's prophecy was vague, but Sheen's was spot on.

Hermione kept thinking, and many of her past questions found reasonable answers.

No wonder Sheen always seemed to sense danger in advance...

But didn't he say that prophetic magic is an inaccurate form of magic?

Before Hermione could return to the Ravenclaw table, Sheehan had already vanished.

In the corridor.

The people in the portraits whispered and pointed as Sheen passed by, just as usual;

Sheen passed through the door twice, hidden behind sliding panels and hanging curtains.

He quickly arrived at the door of the principal's office.

The stone beasts stood guard at the entrance as always.
"Password?"

"Mmm... lemon..."

The stone beast jumped away, and Sheen, unsurprised, went into the principal's office.

He pondered and considered it.

How should he inform Headmaster Dumbledore?
He couldn't help but recall Ms. Rita's words:
She was always murmuring about her brothers, but where were they?
"Sir? Such an incompetent person, treated like that in life, will she not be allowed to rest even in death?"

Sheen frowned.

(End of this chapter)