Hogwarts Study Panel.

Chapter 102, Section 101: Trust

Inside Hogwarts Castle, although a roaring fire burns in the common rooms and the Great Hall,

But the corridor, with its drafty wind, was still bitterly cold, and the classroom windows rattled in the biting wind.

But the worst place wasn't the corridor, but the Potions classroom. After all, a cloud of white mist would form in front of Sheen with a single breath, and after the steaming cauldron went out, Sheen started to shiver—his sweater wasn't very warm.

Sheehan felt that the only difference between himself and Headmaster Dumbledore at this moment was that the headmaster needed wool socks, while he needed a warm sweater.

Sheehan's thoughts drifted, one moment thinking about how Mrs. Weasley often gave sweaters to the children (including Harry) at Christmas, and the next about how Headmaster Dumbledore said that what he saw in the Magic Mirror was wool socks, but in reality, it was Gellert Grindelwald wool socks.

Professor Snape stared coldly at Sheehan's notes, his gaze shifting from coldness and disdain to suppressed surprise and astonishment, and finally to utter devoid of emotion.

"You should know that this... is extremely precious."

Professor Snape's voice was sinister.

Sheen nodded.

"Fool! Ignorant fool! I don't see the slightest value in it! You're like a Muggle holding a wand, unaware of its magical power!"

Professor Snape roared, and once again, Sheehan couldn't fathom the source of his anger.

He silently opened the book "Advanced Potion Making," and the words inside were clearly visible:

Libashe Polach's greatest achievement was no longer discovering potion rituals and will-guiding techniques.

Instead, it continued the trajectory of truth, passing it completely into the hands of its successor.

Professor Snape's last syllable caught in his throat. He glanced at the sentence, about to speak, when he saw the next one:

The infinite distance, the boundless truth... you should know that they are being born in your hands.

Professor Snape's anger gradually subsided, followed by an extremely suppressed whisper:

"If you had known, Sheen Green, you wouldn't have revealed it..."

He stared coldly at Sheen, as if trying to see through his heart.

Sheen remained unmoved; he simply said softly:

"Professor, in fact, only you know."

Professor Snape's mocking smile froze as he stared at the student who was with him in the shadows. For a moment, he was somewhat... at a loss.

"Oh—you mean…"

After a long silence, Professor Snape asked again with a grim face.

Sheen nodded silently.

Do you think...everyone is trustworthy?

Professor Snape's voice sounded like it was being forced out from between his teeth.

He seemed to be rebuking Sheen, and also rebuking himself for blindly trusting Voldemort.

"Listen to me! Sheehan Green, you are not allowed to reveal this notebook to anyone! If you dare to do so..."

He gripped the notebook and threatened.

The students in front of me... were ridiculously stupid, ridiculously stubborn, and... ridiculously innocent.

As Sheen walked briskly out of the cellar, the eyes behind him remained fixed on him.

Snape couldn't describe these feelings, these feelings he hated, despised...and feared—

This idiot trusted him.

His eyes dimmed—

All those bitter resentments, sealed away until they were about to rust, surged into my heart.

To call it awkward would be too harsh and inhumane.

It's probably because the suffering of the past wants to intimidate... present...hope.

……

In the corridor.

The portraits on the wall that used to chatter incessantly are now fast asleep, some snoring softly, others wearing their hats askew with drool almost dripping onto the edges of their frames.

Looking at Sir Cadogan, who had fallen asleep while waiting for him and was drooling, and then at the two sleeping ladies, Sheehan sometimes thought that the reason they could get along was probably because they shared the same "interests".

Several torches, still burning on iron stands, cast flickering shadows of varying lengths, making the ancient carvings on the wall and the patterns on the tapestries seem to come alive, their shadows swaying with the candlelight.

Sheen was used to walking at night, except for the cold.

Sometimes Mrs. Lorris would come and accompany him for a while, and that's when Justin's dried fish came in very handy.

Thanks to the dried fish, Sheen was able to pat Mrs. Lorris's head, which greatly increased the magical creature's affinity with her.

But the lady is obviously not here today.

Suddenly, a very faint rustling sound came from around the corner.

Immediately afterwards, three small figures dressed in wizard robes slipped out from behind the broad base of the armor.

The boy at the front had messy blond hair, and his freckles were particularly noticeable due to excitement and nervousness. He gripped his wand tightly and cautiously peeked out, looking towards both ends of the corridor.

"Is it...clear now?"

The short boy asked in a breathy voice, which trembled violently.

The blond boy didn't turn around, but nodded vigorously and gestured "follow me" behind him.

"Filch is probably taking a nap in the prize display room downstairs. You know, he usually takes a break around this time..."

He lowered his voice, his tone filled with barely suppressed excitement.

"Also, I saw Mrs. Lorice go that way with my own eyes."

There are quite a few young wizards in Hogwarts who want to cause trouble in Filch's office, but those who actually dare to take action are usually Gryffindors.

Sheen was about to leave when they suddenly mentioned dung.

This made Sheen pause in his tracks.

The dung bomb, one of the items sold at Joko's Joke Shop, is a magical stench bomb that emits a rotten smell and was invented by Aberreck Groning in the 1880s.

It is one of the worst prank toys; even touching the dung bomb will make your hands dirty.

Sheehan imagined Mr. Filch wiping away the dung balls and quickened his pace considerably.

But he was still too late.

As Mrs. Lorris screamed in terror, those audacious little wizards even prepared to unleash their magic on her.

Although it's just a spell of clear water flowing like a spring, being splashed with cold water when winter is just around the corner is not a pleasant experience.

"Ag—uamen—ti! (Clear water like a spring!)"

Sheen saw the lead wizard waving his wand, though he even mispronounced the notes.

Mrs. Lorris was so frightened that she hurriedly ran towards the door, whereupon naturally picked her up.

"Finite Incantatem. (Curse Stop.)"

Sheen waved his wand, and Lady Lorris breathed on Sheen's shoulder.

"Oh no! Run!"

The boy who was leading the group of three let out a low shout and quickly tried to run out of Filch's office.

"It's not fun to bully someone who can't use magic, sir."

Sheen blocked the door.

This immediately made the three little wizards bar their teeth and claws.

(End of this chapter)