Hogwarts Study Panel.

Chapter 89, Section 88: The Secret

It seemed that it wasn't just Gryffindors coming for flight training; Sheehan spotted a group of Hufflepuffs from a distance, chatting and laughing as they entered the Quidditch pitch.

As Sheen passed by them, he could still see the brooms and books they were holding. The one on the far left, Hufflepuff, who had a kind smile, was holding "The Batting Bible"—"Kill the Seeker" was the first rule in the book.

The gentle senior student in the center, carrying a broom, naturally opened "He Flies Like a Madman" and pointed to a certain passage in the book. He explained that the move involved two chasers entering the scoring zone, knocking the goalkeeper aside, and exposing a metal ring to a third chaser.

This caused a burst of laughter from the crowd.

Sheehan didn't know if Quidditch had made the Hufflepuffs so savage, or if wizards inherently possessed some kind of savage nature.

He could only silently distance himself from the Quidditch players before leaving.

The Quidditch pitch was shrouded in a thin, pearly mist in the early morning.

The stands were empty, save for a few early-rising owls preening their feathers on high perches. Dewdrops clung to the goalposts, occasionally dripping down to fall and settle on the soft grass in a mushroom shape.

Sheen, wrapped in a thick Ravenclaw scarf, put the book "Intermediate Transfiguration" into his bag, the gleaming mahogany handle of Nimbus 2000 also blurred with golden-red by the sunlight.

Sheen listened to the wind whistling through the stadium, a sound imbued with an almost hypnotic tranquility. In the distance, from the direction of the owl's house, came a few cries; a letter fluttered its wings and flew swiftly towards the castle.

So Sheen approached Hogwarts Castle.

In a room where the fireplace was burning fiercely, the sternness in Minerva McGonagall's eyes shattered into a deep gentleness.

He really deserves a rest; it's what he deserves.

"Little wizard! Let me ask you a question!"

Mr. Owl flapped his wings, staring intently at Sheen as he walked from the auditorium, though Sheen knew that whether he answered or not...

Mr. Owl would always let him in, but he would always answer Mr. Owl's questions seriously.

but-

Looking at Neville, who was shivering in the cold wind beside him, he sighed softly.

"Sheen—this is too difficult—I simply can't answer it—"

Neville seemed unaware of Mr. Owl's situation and was on the verge of tears.

"drink."

Sheen silently handed over the steaming hot pumpkin juice he had just gotten.

"I think Justin has already told you about this, so Neville, why don't you go in?"

After drinking the steaming hot pumpkin juice, Neville's trembling body calmed down considerably.

"That's too impolite—I can't—cause trouble—for Neville's stuttering."

He'll get used to it eventually, just like Justin did.

Sheen thought.

"A difficult question! A mysterious question! Little wizard! A clever little wizard! Why do you think Hogwarts and the nearby villages all have 'lard' in their names?"

Although Mr. Owl never stumped Sheen, he always enjoyed it.

"Exceptional wisdom is the greatest wealth! If you forget this, the gates of Ravenclaw will close on their own!"

Mr. Owl once said this.

"Hogwarts was founded around the tenth century, when wild boars were considered sacred animals, favored by nobles and important figures of the Western kingdoms throughout hunting history. They also symbolized spiritual power and Druidic priests."

Sheen replied.

This time, Mr. Owl didn't make a fuss. Instead, he bowed skillfully, and then a sky-blue door appeared.

Neville stared wide-eyed as Mr. Owl bowed; he remembered that this gentleman shouldn't flap his wings and show his claws.

Then, in a fit of rage, you want to arrest someone?

Good morning, Sheen.

Justin was watering a blimp plum tree.

Since Neville joined and brought many potted plants, Justin also received some plants from Professor Sprout.

Take the airship plum, for example. It's a fruit that looks like a small, orange-red radish and hangs upside down on a growing shrub.

Sheehan recalled that a few people, including Xenophilius Lovegood, believed that the airship Lee could also enhance a person's ability to perceive unusual things.

The crackling fire in the fireplace dispelled the chill that permeated the corridor. Neville shivered as he walked to the soft wooden chair beside the fireplace and sat down, the flames slowly warming his body.

"What is this, Sheen?"

Justin spotted the long package at a glance, with a small section of neat, straight branches peeking out.

"It's obviously a broom."

Hermione, who was engrossed in her book, suddenly looked up and then spoke.

"Justin sighed, then naturally turned his head away."

It wasn't until Sheehan was immersed in the world of "The Origins of Transfiguration" that Justin started peering at the broom.

"Would you like some syrup cakes?"

Justin produced a pastry from somewhere; it was made of shortbread and golden syrup.

In the auditorium, this pie is usually served hot with a dollop of cream, but sometimes it is served with regular cream, custard, or yogurt instead.

"Oh, oh, thank you."

Neville stammered as he accepted the gift. He was fiddling with the large, old wooden table, which was crammed with pots and jars of all shapes and sizes.

On the corner of the table, a pot of black-rooted grass lazily curled its tender white new leaves, while in the flowerpot next to it, several white seedlings restlessly trembled their leaves under a magical glass dome.

"You're also curious about Sheen's broom, aren't you?"

Justin spoke in a low voice, as if they were discussing some secret mission.

"Yes, yes—"

Neville was too embarrassed to say no.

So when Sheen came to his senses, he saw Neville and Justin secretly lifting a corner of the package, with Hermione peeking helplessly from the back. After making eye contact with his green peephole, she immediately showed a flustered expression.

Sheen silently looked away.

"Oh, it's Nimbus 2000! Merlin!"

Justin and Neville went back to the broom handle and, looking at the words gleaming in gold on its tip, he remarked...

"Very good, Neville."

Neville's shy face seemed to have gained a little more confidence.

Great, at least this time, he didn't mess it up.

"Nimbus 2000 per bottle?"

Hermione was surprised by the news before she could even speak.

"And there's flight test one! The notification slip is in the package; it's tomorrow afternoon—"

Justin muttered to himself,

"Sheen never told us—oh, Hermione, would you like some syrup cookies?"

"You were—no, where did you get that from?"