Professor Binns glided through the wall, his head emerging first, followed by the rest of his ghostly form.
The moment he appeared, the classroom felt noticeably colder.
Seán noticed that the flames of the candles near the front flickered blue.
"Emeric the Evil was a short-lived but exceptionally brutal dark wizard," Binns began, his voice droning as he launched straight into the lesson. "He was killed in a particularly bloody duel by his rival, Egbert…"
No introductions, no roll call. As a ghost, Binns didn't bother with such things.
"Weird Uric, on the other hand, was an eccentric wizard of old," Binns continued. "Famous for antics like wearing a jellyfish as a hat… He once slept in a room with no fewer than fifty Augureys. During a particularly damp winter, Uric became convinced—thanks to the Augureys' cries—that he had died and become a ghost. So, he tried to walk through his own walls, resulting in what his biographer, Radolphus Pittiman, described as a 'ten-day concussion'…"
Binns' voice had an odd habit of pausing at random moments, trailing off into a peculiar drawl that made it hard to stay focused.
"I've—heard," Michael whispered, mimicking Binns' tone from beside Seán.
At the back, Anthony paused his note-taking, and Terry stopped fidgeting with the oddly shaped runestone in his hand. Even Seán tilted his head slightly.
Michael, with his knack for gossip, always had some intriguing tidbit to share. The trio knew this well.
"They say," Michael went on, his voice low but animated, "that Binns was a professor at Hogwarts ages ago. One day, the old History of Magic professor fell asleep by the fire in the staff room. When he woke up, he just floated off to teach his next class—leaving his body behind!"
Terry let out a quiet "Whoa!" and Anthony raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.
"…The self-stirring cauldron," Binns droned on, oblivious, "a cauldron enchanted to stir potions automatically, was invented by Gaspard Singleton in the late 20th century…"
His voice echoed through the classroom, but most of the young witches and wizards were barely listening. Some whispered to each other; others had given up entirely and were napping on their desks.
Seán, however, was scribbling notes diligently. Having memorized the entire History of Magic textbook, he noticed something: Western magical history wasn't a neat, continuous timeline. Binns focused more on individual stories and verified legends than on a structured narrative.
Even major events, like the invention of the self-stirring cauldron, were tied to specific people rather than broader historical context. Binns' lectures lacked clear logic—whether because magical history was just that fragmented or because being a ghost had muddled his reasoning, Seán couldn't tell.
Still, from the scattered stories, Seán pieced together a clear thread. For history subjects, there was always a method that worked.
He wrote furiously, and as Binns wrapped up his last sentence, Seán turned his parchment sideways.
Michael, curious, leaned over and saw that Seán's notes formed a clean timeline, connecting every key point from the lecture.
"Merlin's beard, Seán, you're a genius," Michael muttered, realizing the obscure facts suddenly felt memorable.
Seán barely registered the compliment, nodding absently. This should be enough to earn an Outstanding, he thought.
As soon as class ended, the young witches and wizards snapped awake, chattering noisily as Binns floated away.
"Seán, fancy a game of Gobstones?" Michael asked, brimming with enthusiasm.
"Nah," Seán replied. He was curious about this game he'd never heard of, but he had to get to the greenhouses.
"Alright," Michael said, pouting slightly as he watched Seán walk off.
Following a tip from a senior student, Bruce, Seán stopped in front of the first greenhouse. Its towering dome gleamed in the sunlight, reflecting the sky and drifting clouds. The heavy wooden frame looked ancient yet sturdy, with deep green paint peeling to reveal dark wood beneath.
When he pushed open the door, a wave of warm, humid air, rich with the scent of life, hit him. Professor Sprout was waving her wand, effortlessly cleaning a muddy path with a practiced flick.
"Mr. Green, right on time!" she said cheerfully. "Could you help tidy up some of the mess?"
Sprout grabbed a small trowel and began transplanting a dark red plant to a corner of the greenhouse.
Seán glanced at the long planting tables, which were a bit chaotic—scattered with small dirt clumps, water stains, and bits of plant debris, like the slimy, dark green scraps of Fluxweed he recognized from his textbook.
"Scourgify!" Seán pronounced clearly, waving his wand with confidence.
[You practiced the Cleaning Charm at an Apprentice level. Proficiency +1]
In an instant, a small section of the planting table gleamed spotless.
Seán focused, waving his wand again and again.
"Scourgify!"
[You practiced the Cleaning Charm at an Apprentice level. Proficiency +1]
[You practiced the Cleaning Charm at an Apprentice level. Proficiency +1]
[You practiced the Cleaning Charm at a Beginner level. Proficiency +3]
Such a hardworking little sprout…
Professor Sprout watched the diligent young wizard, her face glowing with a warm smile.
Before he collapsed from exhaustion, Seán finished cleaning the greenhouse. With a wave of her wand, Sprout summoned a glass of honey lemonade, which floated into his hand.
"Have a sip and take a break, Mr. Green," she said kindly.
Seán looked at the now-pristine planting tables, feeling a small surge of pride—though most of his satisfaction came from the 66 points of proficiency he'd gained in the Cleaning Charm.
[Name: Seán Green]
[Status: Wizard]
[Titles: Charms Novice, Transfiguration Apprentice]
[Proficiencies]
- [Levitation Charm: Apprentice (4/300)]
- [Luminary Charm: Apprentice (1/300)]
- [Cleaning Charm: Apprentice (70/300)]
- [Transfiguration: Apprentice (3/900)]
- [Herbology Knowledge: Locked (27/90)]
[Advancement: Master three Beginner-level charms to unlock the Beginner Charms title]
[Advancement: Master Beginner-level Transfiguration to unlock the Beginner Transfiguration title]
[Wizard Talents]
- [Charms: Green]
- [Transfiguration: Pale Purple]
Compared to a few days ago, his progress was monumental.
Seán took a sip of the honey lemonade, the sweetness bursting on his tongue, making him squint with delight.
So good. A hundred times better than the bitter tea at the orphanage.
He tucked away his wand and sat on a small stool Sprout had conjured, a thought forming in his mind. Doing chores was fine, but his real focus needed to be learning how to handle magical plants.
"Professor," he said quickly, catching Sprout just as she headed toward an oak table, "could I help you with the plants?"
She paused, blinking. "Why, of course, Mr. Green! I'd be delighted."
Seán set down his lemonade and hurried after the stout professor, eager to learn.