Hogwarts Study Panel

Chapter 568 (566): The Anywhere Door
"what?"

Sheen was somewhat surprised.

The entire local magic network is named Hogwarts, but he didn't consider whether it could be changed.

It now seems that every wizard is an "administrator".

Indeed, magical creations that haven't been tested and adjusted are imperfect.

Sheen will change that in the next batch of production.

Meanwhile, in the stands.

"Harry, am I doomed?"

Ron's face was ashen.

With half an hour to go before the game started, Harry, sitting in the third row, paused for two seconds and then nodded.

Ron remained motionless, dried out, like a piece of cured meat.

A second later, he seemed to want to try to save him.

Ron has changed the name of the magic network channel from "Know-It-All" to "Hogwarts".

Ron deleted a message.

Silence filled the magic mirror.

Justin: It's alright, Ron. Mistakes can always be forgiven with a sincere apology.

Harry: Yeah, an apology will do. Oh, the match is about to start.

[Sheen: Yes.]

Justin: Sheehan, are you here?

Hermione: Sheehan, I have a typing problem. Where are you?

Ron has changed the name of the magic network channel from "Hogwarts" to "Know-It-All".

Ron has changed the name of the magic network channel from "Know-It-All" to "Hogwarts".

Harry: ...

Justin: ...

[Ron: This magic mirror seems to be broken, Sheen.]

[Sheen: The third-generation Magic Hand Mirror has no quality issues.]

Ron has changed the name of the magic network channel from "Hogwarts" to "I'm Doomed".

Harry was trying to suppress his laughter from the stands, his face flushed.

Ron looked gloomy beside him.

Fortunately, Wood's timely appearance changed Harry's situation of being unable to breathe.

“Harry, I just found out who Ravenclaw’s Seeker is.”

It's Qiu Zhang. She's in fourth grade and plays very well... I really hoped she couldn't participate in the competition; her injury from the last training session was quite serious..."

Wood frowned, expressing his dissatisfaction with Cho Chang's complete recovery, and then said:

"However, she was riding a Comet 260, which is a joke compared to your broom."

As he spoke, Wood seemed to finally realize something.

"Oh, right, your broom..."

Harry nodded silently.

He hasn't even participated in training since the broom was destroyed.

Sheen said he would receive a broom, but he hasn't even seen a trace of it yet.

“Harry! You need a broom, you understand—”

Wood paced back and forth anxiously, grabbing Harry's shoulder and shaking him wildly.

At least that's what Sheen saw when he arrived.

"disturb."

Sheen said.

Harry and Wood were blocking the passageway.

“Sheen—”

Harry greeted him with delight.

“Mr. Green—”

Wood hesitated for a few seconds, seemingly trying to suppress a question: would the young wizard in front of him participate in the next competition?

Sheen had already gone far away.

"Oh! Sheen, wait for me—"

Harry quickly chased after him.

“Sheen…”

Sheen heard Harry panting.

He seemed to recall even more things.

He sighed; he had indeed forgotten again.

He always got so engrossed in learning magic that he forgot to eat and sleep, forgetting the request Sirius Black, who was far away in Albania, had made to him.

Fortunately, it's not too late now. "By the way, Harry, your broom..."

Sheen said.

"what?"

Harry quickly moved closer.

“Your godfather asked me to help you get a broom, which we can get now if you’d like.”

Sheen said calmly.

"Now? Sheen, you mean now?"

Harry was a little confused. He searched around but couldn't find even a single piece of wood from the broom.

"Now."

Sheen nodded.

He spoke as if he were saying that he had eaten pudding, ham, and fried eggs today.

"Where do we want it, I mean, where is it?"

Harry's heart pounded; he had only just realized that his godfather had bought him a broom.

Even if it were Comet 260, Harry would make good use of it.

"At Mr. Sirius's house."

Sheen said.

Harry was dumbfounded. He completely felt that he and Sheehan were not on the same wavelength.

"Um……"

Sheen took out a tiny wooden door burning with flames from the Wizard's Book.

He walked to a corner and threw the "wooden door" to the ground.

In Harry's trembling pupils, the wooden door magnified, magnified, and transformed into a fireplace, burning with scorching flames.

Some Floo powder was stored in small boxes and vases on the fireplace.

"We can get it now through the Anywhere Door. Do you want to come, Harry?"

Sheen approached the fireplace and said.

……

A few minutes later, the two returned from the green, flaming fireplace.

"That's amazing, Sheen! How did you do that? The fireplace, how could that be... and Floo Powder too..."

Harry murmured excitedly.

Sheen, on the other hand, had already taken his seat in the stands.

What he just used was a recent achievement in alchemy—the Anywhere Door.

Essentially a portable fireplace, it was only after much negotiation with the Floo Powder Company that they finally agreed to connect Shin's fireplace to a separate Floo Powder network.

This is a big job.

Faced with a moving fireplace, Floo Powder Company struggled to open a single channel.

For Sheen's sole use only.

However, this has already provided Sheen with great convenience.

Now, when he travels far away, he no longer needs to rely on the butler or the professor.

He can travel to his destination anytime, anywhere through any door.

The Quidditch match is about to begin, and the atmosphere at the scene is already incredibly heated.

But in the stands, the young wizards kept Harry firmly surrounded.

"what is this?"

Ron pointed to the package in Harry's hand.

"A flying broomstick, given to me by my godfather... who asked Sheen to give it to me."

Harry said proudly.

"Merlin—open it quickly—"

Ron urged.

Harry tore open the package, gasped, and a glittering, exquisitely crafted flying broom rolled into his hand.

Ron immediately leaned closer to take a closer look.

"I can't believe it."

He said in a hoarse voice.

This is a fire bolt, exactly the same as the flying broomstick that Harry dreamed of every day when he was in Diagon Alley.

He held it in his hand, the broom handle gleaming.

He could feel it vibrating, so he let go.

The broom hung suspended in mid-air, just the right height for him to ride on.

He stroked it with his eyes, carefully observing the smooth, streamlined broom tail made of thin birch twigs from the gold registration number at the top of the broom handle.

(End of this chapter)