"Lord ah——"
Peeves ran around and was finally blocked.
"I was wrong, Lord! Please forgive Peeves once -"
Bloody Baron just looked at it until its heart-rending cry ended, and then it asked tentatively:
"That little wizard - oh - that Green!"
Bloody Baron still stared at it coldly, and after a while, it left.
Peeves was left happy again, jumping up and down the stairs humming a song:
"Oh - a little wizard, don't mess with -"
As it walked, it loosened the carpet on the stairs and tried to make others fall.
In the corridor, Sean knocked on Transfiguration office's door, and he heard a particularly soft "Come in, my... child".
He opened the door and with a wave of the professor's wand, all the scattered letters jumped into the envelopes.
"Good afternoon, Professor."
Sean put his notebook on the desktop. For the professor, he thought the happiest thing was to see his students making progress.
So he always insisted on recording his insights and learning progress. Not surprisingly, the professor was indeed very satisfied with this.
December brings more snow, and when you look in from the outside window, you can probably see an incredibly fantastic scene.
A beetle turned into an owl with a whoosh. The owl flew out of the window and stretched its wings against the wind.
Its wings flew past the frosty spire, moving steadily through the wind and snow, holding Parchment in its claws, and finally disappeared from the sight of Sean and Professor McGonagall.
After waiting for a while, it flew in from another window with a "coo-coo" sound, and the letter it carried in its paws was still stained with white snow.
[You practiced Advanced Transfiguration once as a proficient expert, and your proficiency level is +300]
Sean stroked the owl's feathers, waved his wand, and the owl turned into a small beetle, spread its transparent wings and flew not far from the fireplace.
Sean once again recorded his feelings. He is always good at Transfiguration.
His eyes Winky lit up and he waved his wand again.
[You practiced Advanced Transfiguration once as a proficient expert, and your proficiency level is +300]
[You practiced Advanced Transfiguration once as a proficient expert, and your proficiency level is +300]
What he failed to notice was that as the number of times he used Transfiguration increased, Professor McGonagall's hand holding the letter was also trembling slightly.
"I should know..."
Her voice was weak, like her dim eyes every time in the corner.
... He never makes people worry.
After taking a sip of Transfiguration office's Honey Lemon Tea, Sean's fatigue is slowly fading away.
After recovering most of his body, his fatigue was no longer as severe as before, and he even recovered quickly.
Transfiguration, who has transformed from a "living creature" to a "living creature", has stabilized at the stage of becoming a proficient creature. Next, he only needs to engrave Runic script according to Professor Terra's books, and he has completed all the preparation work.
The better news is that senior Leon accidentally gave him a sample so that he would have an example to compare with.
Sean suddenly thought of Weasleys. They must be selling Canary Creams... This led to senior Bruce reaping the consequences.
After leaving the Transfiguration classroom, Sean decided to go to Library to find some Ancient Runic script books. He had read the books Professor Terra gave him, but he always felt that some parts were still missing.
After all, even Professor Terra didn't give him too big a goal, which is evident from the strength of Howler.
But the professor seemed to have higher expectations, so he asked him to choose a practice object.
What Sean doesn't know is that even Canary Creams of Weasley twins was engraved with the help of the professor.
What about Sean?
He was ready to do it himself.
As soon as Sean stepped into the corridor, Fat Lady and Violet surrounded him. They looked at him with cautious and expectant eyes.
It made him feel very strange.
"Fat Lady, Violet."
he greeted politely.
"Oh, oh, of course! Little Green, you and Rowan Taylor, oh no! It's little McGonagall..."
Fat Lady seemed very nervous and stammered.
"Let's go! Fat woman, you really didn't see it!"
Violet quickly pulled Fat Lady away.
Rowan Taylor?
This is the second time Sean has heard this name.
Taylor...
Thinking about this last name, he froze for a moment.
After a long time, he carefully took out the letter paper from his bag. There was still a withered purple Rowan pressed in one corner.
At this time, his memories of the previous winter began to flow, and nothing was too impressive.
He just lay down for three months, barely dragging his seriously ill body through the winter.
Sometimes people's willpower is huge, enough to give a body that is supposed to die the possibility of living tenaciously.
Three months later, he heard System Panel ding, and he could barely get out of bed.
The person who came to take care of him at that time was the kind old lady who was a volunteer.
The light of the December evening dimmed on the Professor McGonagall square lens, reflecting the extinguished flames in the fireplace.
She lowered her hand, the letter she had just read trembling between her fingers, and the ink on Parchment was reflected brightly by the fireplace.
Quill was placed next to the open notes of Sean, and the comments were halfway written. Her eyes fell on the Picture frame on the corner of the table - it was something she had never thought of, something she had never understood...
More intense snow fell outside the window, and the Scotland Highlands wind whistled past the castle tower.
She took off her glasses and gently pressed the bridge of her nose with her fingertips. When he raised his eyes again, a rare glimmer of water appeared in his always sharp eyes, causing the jumping flames to break into a piece of tender and painful Mars.
The tabletop, shrouded in warmth, was empty. Apart from a silver kitten ornament, there were only letters one after another.
The content of the letter was neither short nor long, but it was as heavy as a boulder falling in the snow.
[I'm sorry, Ms. McGonagall, you know, the orphanage will not take care of such seriously ill children... This is not in the interests of the gentlemen.
For three months, he was very good. God bless him, he survived. Ma'am, I didn't mean to mention it, but he is a very obedient child and if you are not going to adopt, please don't send him back to the orphanage. I can't do anything. I only have fifty pounds and a cotton coat sent. Please accept it.
Five pounds can buy a ticket to St. Catherine's Dock. Please help me transfer the remaining five pounds to him.
The boy told my mother that with a thick coat and five pounds he could survive.
I am speechless.
I am poor, humble, and unbeautiful, but when my soul passes through the grave, my heart will be far lighter than a feather.
May God send everything into his hands]