"Disillusionment Charm, Muffling Charm, Silent Levitation Charm..."
In Headmaster's office, Dumbledore's muttering broke the long-lost silence.
This is almost all special attacks with stealth and Troll.
Nothing is a coincidence, especially for a child who doesn't know how to go on a night out but learns Disillusionment Charm.
He had long sensed the danger...
This danger may only come from the room on the fourth floor, but to reach the level of Troll alone, there is no doubt about his excellence.
This means he passed at least four tests.
And he didn't say a word... That's interesting, isn't it?
If such behavior would make Dumbledore feel uneasy, then put the name "Green" on it and combine it with his behavior of lurking next to Troll...
Dumbledore laughed lightly.
Perhaps the entire Hogwarts Castle is under the control of him, the greatest White Wizard of this century, but this Green... He has done everything he can as much as possible.
"Albus, imagine him as one of those evil wizards..."
came a calm and soft voice.
"Oh - Headmistress Derwent, forgive an old man for worrying too much. People always cannot see clearly when they are old... The weather is nice, where did my Lemon Sherbet go?"
"Maybe in your woolen socks?"
Ms. Derwent said softly.
"Oh - of course, of course, my woolen socks."
Dumbledore has a pair of thick socks on his hands, and you can feel the softness and warmth just by touching them.
What makes his beard even more upturned is that there are more than one pair - all from Little Green.
[Halloween is happy. Thank you for your generous help.]
Dumbledore's blue eyes narrowed.
Who wouldn't like a child who repays a favor?
Dungeon.
There is a chill in the stone wall. Potions Classroom The coldness is heavier than other places, and the damp cold air seems to have weight, weighing heavily on the room.
The condensed water droplets on the wall slowly dripped along the rough stone surface, reflecting the light of the torch.
Many materials in storage cabinets become extra fragile when exposed to moisture. The door of Professor Snape's private storage room was closed tightly, but there was still a faint smell of Potions seeping out from the cracks in the door.
Among the unchanging gray and white, some candies, a packaging box and a blue notebook appear particularly abrupt.
"It looks like you received some gifts too, Severus?"
The person who came was an old man with a long and white beard.
He was wearing a purple robe, and there was no ridicule in his tone, but a faint concern.
"Heh——"
Professor Snape blasted Dumbledore out without hesitation.
At the door of Dungeon, Sir Cadogan was enjoying dinner with two or three monks, several former principals of Hogwarts, and his fat little gray zebra.
He pushed up his helmet and held a pot of Mead to greet Headmaster Dumbledore.
"Halloween - uh - happy! Headmaster Dumbledore, didn't he see your woolen socks?"
Sir Cadogan shouted,
"What a pity..."
Dungeon.
Snape changed from being angry and irritable just now, to feeling a little upset instead.
Boring gifts have no use except to bring idiots closer to each other, making it easier for them to act idiotically...
He unpacked it.
Inside are some carefully selected nettles and Porcupine Quills, of different lengths, packaged in a small bottle.
Next to the bottle is a note, which details the latest progress of Sean for Guiding Method.
Although it's not much, it's still quite a lot. Sean spent a lot of time experimenting with it.
Snape waved his magic wand and threw the candy out, and it "just happened to" land in a small grid of Glass Cabinet.
Then he opened the letter:
[Sometimes when you look at a problem with hope, you will see it more clearly.
Professor, I found some good stuff among a bunch of bad stuff.
Although there are few, there are always some.
By the way,
Professor Snape, Halloween happy]
There are so many words that seem to be false...
Snape snorted coldly and threw the letter into his bag at the same time.
All the way out from Dungeon, Sean's breathing turned into white air rising and falling rhythmically.
"Come in, kid."
Professor McGonagall is still sitting on the tall chair. The only difference is that the mountains of homework and various complicated documents have disappeared.
There was only one owl left, carrying a letter. Its head shook, shaking off a little bit of snowflakes.
Sean found it quite interesting. He waved his magic wand and the snowflakes danced a few times.
"Gugu?"
The owl tilted its head, landed on Sean's shoulder, and rubbed its round face against Sean.
Not good, Sean thought, Mr. Owl will yell again when he goes back:
"Little wizard! Little wizard who is in love with someone else! You smell like another owl!"
It sounds like Sean failed it or something.
"Child, come to me."
Professor McGonagall said suddenly.
Sean leaned over silently. He thought the professor would ask him something about Troll, but unexpectedly the professor didn't mention a word.
She just held his hand.
"Look, kid, of course it's important to protect your friends, but so is protecting yourself."
The crackle of the fireplace grew louder.
Sean stood in front of the barrier and began his practice on the "magic" of objects.
He waved his wand, and the flames danced like spirits, at some random moment.
Sean suddenly thought of the scene where the professor conjured Salamander.
He looked through the professor's notes and found that part indeed, and he sorted out the details of Salamander and Transfiguration in detail.
Sean thought this was the advanced part, but some strange guidance made him couldn't help but give it a try——
[You practiced Advanced Transfiguration once with entry-level standards, and your proficiency is +100]
A ball of lizard-like flames immediately ran out!
[Fantastic Beasts has circuits in his body that are extremely suitable for magic, and talented wizards will capture them]
Just when Sean was looking at the professor's notes and the corners of his mouth were slightly raised, Professor McGonagall was reading a letter sent from a distance.
[Dear Minerva·McGonagall:
When I received your letter, I couldn't believe it. That child, God's beloved child, had not been deceived.
Forgive my doubts, I have seen too many such things. Even if life deceives us again and again, we in Croydon District still choose to believe.
Because there is no worse outcome.
I have no idea how hard it took you to find me - I know those mean people never reply - they wish they never got a letter so they don't have to face those poor kids.
In any case, it is enough for you to have such a heart.
If you need more information about that child, please let me know. I have been a volunteer at Holysee for a long time.
Looking forward to hearing more from you.
Yours faithfully: Rowan Taylor]