Hogwarts Study Panel

Chapter 67: I've waited too long

In the auditorium, at the teachers' seats.

Dumbledore's silver beard gleamed in the candlelight, and his eyes behind his half-moon spectacles blinked merrily as an owl dropped a bag of candy that hit a Gryffindor on the head.

Just as he was blinking happily, the student beside him who excelled at Transfiguration had vanished.
His smile deepened.

The greatest white wizard of this century clasped his hands together and murmured:

"Oh, that's good, isn't it?"
People will eventually discover that at Hogwarts, those who need help always receive it…

The noise in the auditorium was irrelevant to Sheen at this moment.

He held the letter in his hand as he walked down the empty corridor.
He saw the armor gleaming, and the spirited owl perched on his shoulder, hooting as it pointed to a road he had traveled many times before.

He didn't notice that the painting of Madame Wheatfield behind him was already crowded with people.

The golden wheat fields rippled in the sunlight, like a sea kissed by the sun.
Through the swaying wheat fields, one could vaguely see people holding several blue cornflowers, whispering amongst themselves.

"Sir, I'm so excited! That kid's been so worried today, his sharp eyebrows are practically turned into duck eggs."

Lady Violet clutched the hem of her skirt as she watched the young wizard walk by with the owl. For a moment, she felt as if she couldn't breathe.

"Mrs. Violet, oh, please help me! My injured hand can't reach my eyes."

Sir Cadogan put down his pony, his eyes sparkling.

"You all saw that letter?! I simply can't believe it... You know what? I've been following McGregor for fifty years!"

The plump lady, her hand on her chest, was interrupted in a low voice by Sir Cadogan:
"Alright, alright, my dear lady, go look at that big cat. The knight should only pay attention to little Green."

……

"professor?"

Sheen knocked on the wooden door.

He was a little nervous.

He was not afraid of Professor Snape, nor did he have any prejudice against Professor Quirrell—although the two-headed man was indeed somewhat out of character.

But only Professor McGonagall,
He wouldn't forget the owl that smashed through the window—yes, the one on his shoulder.
They will also never forget Professor McGonagall's help.

The beds in the orphanage always smelled musty, and the feeling of possibly dying at any moment was unpleasant.

This also made Sheen remember the day the professor took him out.

open the door.

The Transformation Office was always filled with a faint scent of sandalwood and parchment.

The flames in the fireplace burned haphazardly, and beside the fireplace, a long, narrow object was tightly wrapped.

Professor McGonagall, her dark green robes billowing, a few strands of silver hair tinged slightly yellow in the firelight, her brows and eyes unusually devoid of sternness, her voice gentle and steady:
“Mr. Green, come here.”

Sheehan obediently jogged over, unaware of the deeper sorrow in Professor McGonagall's eyes.

She flicked her wand slightly, and a long, thin object flew onto the table in front of Sheen:

“Take a look inside, Mr. Green.”

Sheen held his breath, his mind momentarily blank.

On the wooden table, inside the carefully unpacked package was a fantastic broom:
With graceful lines and a lustrous sheen, the piece is made of mahogany, and its long tail is crafted from neat, straight branches.

"Radiance 2000"—these words were printed in gold on the top line of the broom handle.

"I may not quite understand, Professor."

Faced with such a huge temptation, Sheen showed no excitement or joy; he simply asked the question very carefully and in a weak tone.

Think about it, he's not Gryffindor, nor is he the chosen savior.
Just three months ago, he was merely an orphan struggling to survive in the orphanage, waiting for his health to improve so he could escape Hollissé.

He knew Professor McGonagall was kind-hearted despite her cold exterior, but did she deserve this intense kindness? The Nimbus 2000 wasn't some shabby broom; it cost at least 600 Galleons in Diagon Alley.

"By King Arthur!"

In the portrait frame of the Transfiguration classroom, Sir Cadogan almost couldn't resist giving Sheen a tap on the head.

Then the fat lady pulled him back:
"Sir, my dear Sir, how could you bear to ruin this moment—"

In the firelight of the fireplace, Minerva McGonagall slowly moved the broom aside, the tenderness in her eyes erasing Sheehan's confusion.

“Come to me, child.”

Sheen suddenly felt himself being hugged.

He smelled a comforting fragrance, and at the same time, a sense of bewilderment and inexplicable warmth enveloped him.

He saw Professor McGonagall's emerald green star-studded brooch gleaming, and heard the professor speak softly:

“Mr. Grimm, there’s no magic lesson today. Tell me about your days at Hogwarts, shall we?”

……

In the corridor, a knight strode confidently, leading two ladies across a golden wheat field.
All three faces were beaming with smiles.

"Those stern faces, occasionally bursting forth with surprisingly warm voices—it was truly a worthwhile trip—"

The plump woman touched the corner of her eye.

"Humph--"

Sir Cadogan's mustache twitched, and he muttered,

"Coward, coward, even happiness is beyond his control."

As he spoke, his voice grew softer and softer.

Sheen carried the broom all the way to the Quidditch pitch. The broom was enchanted, making it easy for him to lift.

"Come here quickly, Mr. Green,"

Mrs. Hooch was tidying up the brooms when she spotted the gleaming new one and nodded in satisfaction.

"The new broom is nice. Get used to it. Today we're going to simulate the testing process."

Sheen nodded, hopped on his broom,
He then realized the significance of Mrs. Focke's "explicit hints".

At the same time, without even cautiously requesting permission from Mrs. Hooch, he took flight on his own, and his usual caution seemed to have dissipated somewhat.

Lady Hooch's hawk-like eyes were fixed on him.
A hint of relief shone in his eyes.

The test included several tasks: navigating through several rings, dodging poles, and avoiding magically swirling golf balls—all of which Sheen had to complete within half an hour.

Mrs. Hodge followed almost the strictest standards:
"Mr. Green, turn! Pull up! Stay focused, adjust your posture. Only with enough skill can you avoid the frequent flying dangers at Hogwarts!"

……

A room with a roaring fireplace,
The tall witch gazed at the field, an aged voice coming from beside her.

"Minerva, it seems like it's been a long time since you've cared about a child like this."

The kind-looking wizard with a long, white beard gazed at the painting in the room, his azure eyes gleaming with cunning, then turning to a teasing tone as he spoke.

Minerva McGonagall's robe still bore the marks of creases, and her voice was stern yet gentle.

These two elements unexpectedly blended together harmoniously.

She looked at him as if he were a seed, or as if he were a tender sprout that had finally broken through the soil.

"You don't understand, Albus," he said to me with a slight smile, "he said a lot."
And I feel that I have been waiting for this for a very long time.

(End of this chapter)