Chapter 203: A Cat's Communication Diary
Wizards always possessed a natural passion for Quidditch, especially with so few matches left in the season.
Gryffindor had successively defeated Slytherin and Hufflepuff. Ravenclaw had also beaten Slytherin. Now, it was up to Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw to determine the victor who would face Gryffindor in the final.
Therefore, Roger Davies and Prefect Penelope Clearwater were particularly focused on the upcoming match.
"Prefect Clearwater, I'll give it my all," Roger said.
As a Chaser, his "all" meant helping the team build a lead of over one hundred and fifty points. That way, even if the opposing Seeker caught the Golden Snitch, Ravenclaw would still win.
However, the difficulty of achieving this was even higher than catching the Snitch in the first five minutes.
Prefect Penelope didn't respond. Instead, the rest of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team grew rowdier.
"Come on, Prefect, getting flight clearance is hard, I know. But surely the Ravenclaw Quidditch team hasn't been reduced to relying on a first-year student?" a tall Ravenclaw said teasingly.
"Wood 'accidentally' walked into the wrong changing room—ours—three times in two months... I still don't know what he saw..."
Prefect Penelope held a parchment, a handwritten copy of the Quidditch pitch booking records. Gryffindor's training times coincided perfectly with Sean's flight test schedule. Since then, Wood had been acting like a fool, pretending to be confused and wandering into the Ravenclaw changing room.
Every time he did, Penelope's irritation and anxiety grew.
Keep in mind, back then, Gryffindor already had Potter.
"Wood is a Quidditch fanatic, you know that. He's always wanted to go pro." The tall Ravenclaw stopped smiling, his meaning clear: You can't judge a fanatic by normal standards.
"Weakness is not the obstacle to victory; arrogance is. Underestimating your opponent always leads to defeat."
Prefect Penelope sighed deeply and left the Great Hall.
The Great Hall was bustling. Some students were engrossed in heated games of Weird Wizard's Chess, while others discussed this year's Quidditch Cup.
The members of the Room of Hope gathered together, sharing the latest news on Professor Quirrell's movements.
They now unanimously agreed that Professor Snape was Hogwarts' secret guardian, likely appointed personally by Headmaster Dumbledore.
Think about it: a mean, sharp-tongued professor silently protecting everyone, while the timid, cowardly Professor Quirrell was Voldemort's minion. If Sean hadn't confirmed it, no one would have guessed.
"I saw Malfoy in detention again—rumour has it he and his two cronies got thrashed when they tried to start trouble..." Ron shared excitedly, his slightly chubby face glowing with the pride of having "big news."
He patted Neville on the shoulder. "You should do just like that, stand up to him bravely, Neville!"
"He's always been arrogant. We have no reason to bow down to him and let him have his way."
Neville nodded tremblingly, while Ron shook his head, looking like a disappointed parent.
In the Room of Hope, everyone agreed Neville needed help. Especially after sharing certain responsibilities, mutual aid seemed to have truly become the theme of the Room of Hope.
Though, most of the time, "mutual aid" meant everyone asking Sean for help.
"Sean, I have to say, Hagrid looks so careless. You need to be more careful," Hermione said, recalling the scene at the edge of the Forbidden Forest when they were staring at each other dumbfounded, while Sean sat atop a Hippogriff.
Harry and Ron had only felt envy, but Hermione thought: How dangerous that was!
Sean, who had been silently watching Ron interact with Neville—completely oblivious to the truth—nodded gently when addressed.
Inside the Room of Hope, most discussions revolved around learning magic. But in the Great Hall, the young wizards enjoyed sharing interesting anecdotes and sometimes showing concern for one another.
Justin felt this was an incredibly harmonious atmosphere and always smiled from the sidelines, encouraging it.
The clatter of cutlery and the sizzling of food were the eternal melody of the Great Hall. Sometimes, Sean felt the Hall was simply a place for wizards to rest. Sitting together dissolved the distance between them.
The sky gradually darkened. Twilight lingered, waiting for the mountains to swallow the setting sun.
The corridors were dim, but that didn't affect the black cat leaping silently across the suits of armour.
Sean needed to reach the dungeons early to organize the materials in the office and storage cupboards. Theoretically, Professor Snape might have forgotten he assigned this task, but the magic required was simple—a Levitation Charm would sort it out quickly.
Besides, it allowed him to review the properties of the ingredients and the potions they were used for. A small revision session.
His assignment planner had shrunk into a pendant hanging around the black cat's neck.
Sean had used Shrinking Charms, Transfiguration, and Levitation Runes to allow the planner and quill to be easily retrieved, viewed, and written on even in cat form. It compensated for his inability to communicate verbally as a cat.
The benefit of being an alchemist lay here: there were no impossible tasks, only unlearned magic.
Now, the assignment planner floated in the air, the first item clearly legible:
[Complete the Bowtruckle Biscuit Ritual]
This was Sean's most pressing problem.
The success of the last new ritual was largely due to the overpowering force of "I reckon it'll work."
simply put—Sean used Willpower Reinforcement, and the new ritual was "reckoned" into existence.
This wasn't easily replicable. First, Sean had borrowed heavily from a highly relevant potion ritual: Polyjuice Potion. Second, his Animagus form played a huge role. It was always easier for a cat to transform into a Kneazle than for a wizard to transform into a Bowtruckle.
Outside the Dungeons.
The black cat hopped down two steps and swiftly transformed into a small wizard in black robes.
It was a cold, crisp evening. Night was falling, and a pale, translucent moon hung over the castle.
Snape's irritability had been growing daily, his dark, gloomy eyes often losing focus for long periods.
This was especially true since someone had moved that accursed knight's portrait to the entrance of the dungeons.
The knight was always shouting something:
"He went to the Big Cat's house, and you, Severus, you damned coward, dare not reveal even a whisper of your name. You lower your expectations as always, never believing you deserve anything—damn you, to avoid an ending, will you refuse every beginning?"
(End of Chapter)
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