In the corridor.
Sean curiously glanced at Sir Cadogan a few more times. With his back to Sean, the knight was still trying to climb onto that pony.
It did not seem like anything had gone wrong.
"Little Green, you always look rather pale."
Violet blinked and asked curiously,
"Was it Charms, Potions, or Transfiguration today?"
"Transfiguration."
Sean answered honestly.
Then he glanced at Sir Cadogan again.
The knight did not seem to be hurt. It appeared Professor Snape was rather... lenient with portraits?
Just as Sean left in relief, a woman's voice, clearly holding back laughter, rang out:
"All right, my dear Sir, Little Green has gone."
Only then did the knight in the portrait slowly turn around—his front and back were entirely different.
The gleaming plate armor from his breastplate to his belly guard had been crushed into an unnatural curve. His nasal guard had been knocked crooked to the left.
The red ostrich plume that normally stood so proudly atop his helmet was now reduced to half its length, drooping limply as muddy water dripped from it.
His face was a complete disaster:
His left eye was swollen into a slit, while his right was wide open. Some kind of slime had hardened his beard into several stiff clumps, with suspicious bits of mushroom stuck in it.
"What are you looking at?!"
His voice was hoarse but still thunderous as he glared at the young wizards outside the frame.
"Have you never seen the medals of victory?!"
But when several young wizards walked around to the side of the frame, they could not help bursting into laughter.
Sir Cadogan's back was an entirely different sight—his silver-blue cloak was spotless, without even a speck of mud, its velvet as smooth as new.
The plate armor on his back