Binns came out of the wall.
His head slipped through first, then the rest of his body slowly followed.
The moment he appeared, the classroom temperature seemed to drop a few degrees.
Sean noticed that the candles closest to the front flickered, and a few flames even turned faint blue.
"Emeric the Evil was a short-lived but extremely violent Dark wizard,"
Binns droned, not even glancing at the students as he floated toward the front.
"He was killed in a bloody duel by his opponent, Egbert the Egregious…"
He had started lecturing the instant he entered. No greeting. No roll call.
As a ghost, such trivialities didn't seem to concern him.
"Eulric the Oddball was a bizarre wizard in ancient times.
"He became famous for feats such as wearing a jellyfish as a hat…
"He once slept in a room that housed no fewer than fifty augury birds.
"In one particularly damp winter,
"Eulric became convinced he had died and turned into a ghost—simply because of the constant augury crying.
"He then attempted to walk through the walls of his own house,
"which resulted in what his biographer, Radolphus Pittiman, described as
'a ten-day concussion'…"
Professor Binns' voice always carried strange, inexplicable pauses and sagging endings,
as if even his sentences were nodding off. It was… uniquely annoying.
"I heard—"
Beside him, Michael suddenly spoke, deliberately copying Binns' rhythm and tone.
In the back row, Anthony stopped writing. Terry froze halfway through examining a weirdly shaped rune stone.
Even Sean tilted his head slightly in his direction.
Michael always had some odd rumor or bit of information.
The three of them knew that very well.
"Professor Binns has been a teacher at Hogwarts for a long time,"
Michael began, lowering his voice mysteriously.
"One day, this very old wizard who taught History of Magic fell asleep in front of the staffroom fire.
"When he woke up, he just went straight to teach his next class—but…"
Michael paused dramatically.
"…he left his body behind."
He spread his hands, painting the scene in the air.
Terry whispered a soft, amazed, "Wow…"
Anthony raised his eyebrows, intrigued.
"Self-stirring cauldrons,"
Binns' voice floated dully over their whispered conversation,
"are cauldrons enchanted to stir themselves.
"They were invented in the late twentieth century by Gaspard Shingleton…"
His hollow tone echoed off the stone walls.
Almost every student in the room had mentally checked out.
Some were whispering.
Some had simply laid their heads down and gone to sleep.
Sean, however—having already memorized the entire History of Magic textbook—
was still diligently taking notes.
He'd realized that Western magical history, as Binns taught it, wasn't particularly continuous.
The ghost focused more on individuals and verified legends than on a clean, linear timeline.
Major events—like the invention of the self-stirring cauldron—only appeared when tied to some particular wizard.
His lectures had almost no clear structure.
Sean couldn't tell if that was the nature of magical history itself…
or just the fact that Binns, as a ghost, had lost any sense of logical organization.
Even so, from those scattered events, Sean was slowly weaving together a coherent thread.
With history subjects, there was always one very practical trick.
He wrote furiously until Binns' last sentence drifted into the air,
then rotated his parchment horizontally.
Michael craned his neck curiously to peek—and froze.
On Sean's parchment, a neat timeline stretched across the page,
linking all the names, events, and inventions into a single clear line.
"Merlin… Sean, you're a genius,"
Michael muttered under his breath.
For the first time, the dense, dull content of Binns' lecture… started to stick.
Sean didn't react to the compliment.
He simply lowered his quill and thought:
This should be enough to get an 'Outstanding'.
Class ended.
The moment Binns drifted back through the wall, the roomful of "sleeping" students instantly revived.
As the ghostly professor vanished, the classroom erupted in chatter, chairs scraping, and hurried footsteps.
"Sean, want to come play Gobstones?"
Michael leaned over, eyes shining with enthusiasm.
"No," Sean replied.
He was curious about this game he'd never heard of—
but he had to get back to the greenhouses.
"…Alright then."
Michael pouted a little, watching Sean walk away.
According to Bruce's directions, Sean stopped in front of the first greenhouse.
The high domed roof gleamed under the sunlight, reflecting the sky and the drifting clouds.
Thick wooden frames supported the glass—the dark green paint peeling in places,
revealing heavy, weathered wood beneath.
When he pushed the wooden door open—
A wave of warmth rolled over him.
Moist, earthy, vibrant air, thick with the smell of soil and leaves, rushed out to greet him.
Professor Sprout was in the middle of a flick of her wand.
With a practiced motion, she cleared a dirt-covered path in an instant,
mud and dead leaves whisked away as if erased from existence.
"Mr. Green, just in time. Do help me tidy up a bit, if you would."
She spoke cheerfully as she picked up a small trowel,
carefully transplanting a blackish-red plant deeper into the greenhouse.
Sean looked over the long planting table in front of him.
The surface was a mess—small pits dug into the soil, splatters of water,
and scattered plant remains:
including fragments of a dark green, slightly slimy root he recognized from the textbook as knotgrass.
"Scour—g—ify."
Sean enunciated the incantation precisely and moved his wand in the familiar S-shape.
[You practiced Scouring Charm once to apprentice standard. Proficiency +1]
A section of the planting bench in front of him instantly became spotless.
Sean focused, raised his wand again, and kept casting.
"Scour—g—ify."
[You practiced Scouring Charm once to apprentice standard. Proficiency +1]
[You practiced Scouring Charm once to apprentice standard. Proficiency +1]
[You practiced Scouring Charm once to novice standard. Proficiency +3]
…
Such a diligent little seedling…
Professor Sprout watched him work, a fond smile softening her features.
Before he exhausted himself completely, Sean managed to finish cleaning the entire greenhouse.
With a flick of her wand, Professor Sprout sent a glass of honey lemon water floating gently into his hands.
"Have a drink and rest a bit, Mr. Green."
Sean looked at the now tidy bench and felt a flicker of satisfaction.
Of course, what satisfied him even more… was the system prompt:
He'd just gained 66 points of proficiency in Scouring Charm.
He opened his panel.
[Name: Sean Green]
[Identity: Wizard]
[Titles: Novice in Charms, Apprentice in Transfiguration]
[Proficiencies]
[Levitation Charm: Apprentice (4 / 300)]
[Lumos: Apprentice (1 / 300)]
[Scouring Charm: Apprentice (70 / 300)]
[Transfiguration: Apprentice (3 / 900)]
[Herbology Insight: Locked (27 / 90)]
[Advancement: Three Novice-level charms unlock the Novice Charms title]
[Advancement: Novice Transfiguration unlocks the Novice Transfiguration title]
[Wizard Talents]
[Charms: Green]
[Transfiguration: Light Purple]
Compared to just a few days ago, it was like looking at a different person's stats.
Sean took a sip of the honey lemon water. Sweetness bloomed across his tongue,
making his eyes narrow with pleasure.
Delicious.
A hundred times better than the cheap, bitter tea from the orphanage.
He put away his wand and sat on the little stool Professor Sprout had conjured for him.
A new thought surfaced:
Doing chores is fine… but right now, the priority is still learning how to handle herbs.
"Professor, could I… maybe work with you directly on the plants?"
He spoke quickly, before she walked away toward another oak table.
Professor Sprout paused mid-step, then turned back, her eyes crinkling.
"Of course you may. Why ever not?"
She gave him a little wink.
Sean didn't even finish his honey lemon.
He clutched the cup in both hands and jogged after the round, earth-scented professor,
following her deeper into the warm, green world of the greenhouse.
Advance Chapters available on Patreon