Owl Portrait

After three o'clock in the afternoon, Hogwarts entered its lazy weekend.

For the young wizards, Friday was even happier and more relaxing than Saturday or Sunday, because on this day, they could toss their homework aside and thoroughly enjoy the rare leisure time.

Having come all the way from the Greenhouse, droplets from the clearing rain still clung to the hem of Sean's robes.

He had learned from Professor Sprout

that Professor Snape had begun brewing a potion that would take two days to complete today.

Therefore, the potion-brewing plan could only be put on hold for the time being.

Having inherited Master Libatius Borage's knowledge, he was now like someone guarding a mountain of gold that he could not use for the moment.

Fortunately, he was not familiar with Master Libatius Borage's improved ritual either, so he planned to practice in the hidden room until he mastered it.

While he was at it, he could also grind out some spell proficiency.

"I'm going to chop your head off!"

"No—"

The childish voices drifting from the distant lawn contrasted sharply with what they were saying. Sean looked over and found several young wizards playing Hangman.

This game could be played by two or more people. One person thought of a word, while the others guessed based on the letters revealed as hints. If they failed to guess it, they had to pretend their heads were chopped off.

Sean then heard a series of crackling explosions from the other side of the lawn.

Looking into the distance, he saw young wizards playing Exploding Snap. The cards were not particularly powerful, but they were more than enough to singe two young wizards' eyebrows black.

There were actually many forms of entertainment in the Magical World, not just Quidditch, Wizard's Chess, Gobstones, and so on.

Michael had played more than ten strange and unusual games in just five days.

That was also why he was still in the Library.

It would have been even better if, whenever he returned to the dormitory, he did not howl, "Sean, save me!" and simply read Sean's notes quietly.

Sean held a beautifully wrapped piece of Buzzing Bee Candy in his hand. The sight of senior Bruce being led away by senior Leon like a balloon still seemed to linger before his eyes.

He had noticed that whenever senior Bruce was about to come down, senior Pist, who had just arrived, would stuff another piece of candy into his mouth.

As for the remaining candy, senior Pist, smiling guilelessly, had given it all to him.

"Hufflepuff's philosophy is—sharing—"

Senior Bruce had practically wailed those words.

The afternoon sunlight was like melted honey, lazily spilling over the ancient stone walls of Hogwarts Castle, warming the cold stones until they became soft and gentle.

The tower spires traced golden outlines beneath the azure sky as owls hooted past.

Sean's hair was lifted by the breeze—that was the wind.

A clear cry came from the distant sky—that was a goshawk.

And the one stumbling across the lawn toward him was Justin.

"Sean!"

He called out enthusiastically.

Beside him, Hermione puffed out her cheeks in helpless annoyance. The wind was flipping open the ink-green book in her hands, its cover bearing the image of a fire dragon.

"Mother says nature heals every child."

Justin leaned close to Sean and whispered, "Sunshine, lakesides, breezes, grass... Though Hermione doesn't think any of those are better than the Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them in her hands—

She's right. That book is far too interesting."

Magical creatures?

Sean thought.

They really were interesting.

Then Sean's gaze followed Justin's gesture and landed on one of its pages:

I wish to refute every other absurd claim in Miss Rita Skeeter's book.

I only wish to add one simple point: I am absolutely not "the heartless man who abandoned a heartbroken Seraphina Picquery."

At the time, the President clearly stated that if I did not leave New York voluntarily and swiftly, she would take severe measures to expel me.

?

Sean was somewhat speechless. It seemed gossip transcended both wizards and Muggles.

"And this one too—"

Billywigs were native Australian insects. Anyone stung by one would feel dizzy and lightheaded, then slowly begin to float.

Generations of young Australian wizards had tried to catch Billywigs and provoke them into stinging them, all for that side effect.

"Wizards can be pretty crazy sometimes, can't they?"

Justin said with a shrug.

"Hermione, what do you think?"

"That's right. I also read that some wizards made their venom into Buzzing Bee Candy."

Hermione closed her book, her voice full of conviction.

Before she could finish, Sean silently placed a piece of Buzzing Bee Candy in each of their hands.

"It's tasty."

Sean said seriously.

Hermione and Justin, only now realizing what had happened, stared at each other wide-eyed.

"Floating feels really nice...

I mean, remember?

Hermione and I went to ask Professor Flitwick for permission to use that classroom.

The professor agreed right away, but he said... what did he say again?"

In the corridor, Justin suddenly got stuck.

Yet Sean could clearly see the amusement in his eyes.

"Idiot... He said—of course, but that depends on whether that Owl Portrait agrees."

As the three waited for the Moving Staircase, Hermione explained, "Professor Flitwick said that in the tenth century, there was only one school of magic in Europe: Hogwarts.

Back then, Hogwarts accepted students from all across Europe.

Later, other schools of magic were established one after another, and many wizarding families chose schools closer to home.

So Hogwarts, which could accommodate over a thousand people, ended up with many empty classrooms. Most had been sealed with magic, but not ours, because..."

"Because there's a special Owl Portrait there, and even the successive professors might not be able to answer its questions."

Justin added with a grin. He looked far prouder than Sean did.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him.

With the rumble of the staircase and Justin's knock on the wall, the yellowed, cracked canvas appeared once more. The snow-white owl on it, dressed in a velvet waistcoat and wearing tiny pince-nez, cocked its head.

It seemed forever unable to straighten its glasses and hold its old Parchment steady at the same time.

"What are you looking at? Owls are eagles too!"

it shouted.

"No laughing! I'm going to ask you a difficult question! A question even clever young wizards can't answer!"

it said viciously.

Justin's face immediately fell.

After thinking for a moment, he tried to flatter Mr. Owl in the portrait with the Lollipop Quill.

"If I'm not mistaken, those are owl feathers, right? Even if they're only carved!"

"Oh!"

Justin let out a low cry.

Hermione burst out laughing.

Then she watched Justin pretend to fumble as he stuffed the Lollipop Quill into Sean's arms.

"Do mice... do mice eat Mr. Owl?"

Justin took out a Screaming Sugar Mouse in an attempt to salvage the situation.

"Young wizard! Stupid young wizard! I'm a portrait!"

The owl flapped its wings, the Parchment wobbling beneath its claws. The whole owl looked utterly furious.

Hermione was already shaking with laughter.

"Ah?!"

Justin looked somewhat despairing.

"Where am I supposed to find a mouse portrait?!"