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HP: I have a Proficiency Panel - 143
🕑 Added 2025-12-18 16:36:36 +0000 UTCChapter 143: Shawn Can Do Anything
Hogwarts portraits were the most convincing form of realist art. Each painting was steeped in its subject’s memories and emotions, and the figures inside could wander between frames, talk to the living, drink and make merry, sing at the top of their lungs, or shriek until the corridor rang.
But even portraits that could speak and hold conversations did not usually turn from witches or knights into animals.
Ron’s vision went black for a second because the owl started questioning them.
“Little wizard. Idiot little wizard. A snake’s enemy, yes. Who is the snake’s enemy?”
Ron and Harry were even more surprised when Hermione and Justin actually started thinking hard. They struggled to come up with an answer until a slip of parchment wriggled out from under the door. Justin picked it up and said, “A deer. In the history of symbolic signs, the deer is ‘the snake’s enemy, driving the snake out of its hole and killing it.’”
Mr Owl showed a very human look of disdain. “Borrowing another’s wisdom can still count as wisdom, but constantly borrowing…”
Before it could finish, it froze stiff, and a door appeared.
Harry and Ron comforted themselves by thinking it was like that odd Ravenclaw door knocker. Right now, they were buzzing with excitement. No wonder nobody could find this secret organisation. This was a secret base guarded by an owl.
At the same time, they were anxious. “Mr Finnigan, what if we cannot answer?” they asked, their voices turning careful without them noticing.
“It is fine. Even if you cannot answer, you can still come in,” Justin explained patiently.
“What?” Harry and Ron cried out. Then what had they just been doing?
“Do you not think answering questions is interesting?” Hermione asked, chin lifted.
Harry and Ron shook their heads so hard they looked like drinking birds.
As they talked, they stepped into the room. It was almost as large as the Gryffindor common room. Two wooden tables sat inside, along with a fireplace crackling and snapping. Carpets lay beneath the tables and by the hearth, and cosy pumpkin lanterns had been set on top.
The plants were numerous and neatly arranged, and countless candles floated in mid-air. In the centre was a soft-looking sofa, with several individual desks nearby.
Those desks had movable wooden panels fitted to them, as if they were the product of Transfiguration. How could they tell? The moment they came in, the panel on one of the desks began lowering slowly.
It was Shawn. He smiled warmly and nodded to them.
Harry and Ron hurriedly nodded back. For a moment, they felt as though they had never truly known Hogwarts Castle at all. How else could a room like this exist without them knowing a thing?
Suddenly, a voice made Harry and Ron jump.
“Fasten your coat properly. Crooked as anything, you look like a burnt strip of dough,” the voice scolded.
Harry spun around in alarm. After a moment, he stared at the mirror in disbelief.
“It… looks like the mirror at my house,” Ron whispered, finally regaining his senses. He meant the mirror on the kitchen mantelpiece at the Burrow. It was the same kind of alchemical item.
Harry nodded dumbly. At this point, even if Professor Snape climbed out of the wooden cabinet, Harry would not be surprised.
“Harry… Ron…” Neville came trotting over with scissors in hand. “I am so happy… to see you here… I have wanted to tell you for ages, but I did not dare…”
“Oh, it is not your fault, Neville,” Harry said, genuinely moved. He understood Neville perfectly. If he had a base like this, he would not tell anyone either. Of course, Ron and Hermione did not count. Shawn and Justin did not count either. Oh, and Neville too.
The thought made him laugh. It was like everyone who mattered was already here.
“All right,” Ron said, stammering. “I am ready to accept the miraculous magic.” Harry nodded as well.
“What do you mean, accept the miraculous magic?” Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow.
“The magic Shawn cast on Neville. The one that makes people smarter,” Ron said, sounding embarrassed but hopeful.
“Harry, Ron, do you think Shawn is Merlin?” Justin laughed, nearly doubling over with one hand pressed to his forehead. “How could there be magic like that?”
“Oh, honestly,” Hermione said, shaking her head with a mix of frustration and amusement. “You two are such idiots.”
“Then how did Neville…” Harry began, eager to explain.
Justin stopped laughing and looked at him seriously. “It’s Neville’s own effort, really. We just… Shawn mostly… helped a bit.”
He pointed to the wooden rack by the entrance. The moment Ron looked over, his eyes practically shone with gold. Green Notes. Complete, thick, the kind he had never even imagined.
Ron had never thought he would live to believe a book was better the thicker it was, but the Green Notes were not like those stupid textbooks. He could actually understand them easily.
“You can write your questions on the parchment at the back of the notes,” Justin said. “In the morning, Shawn will write the answers. Right. What branches of magic do you still not understand?”
Justin was strong across most subjects, nearly catching up to Hermione. He was currently Hufflepuff’s best student, and some of them even teased him by calling him Little Hermione.
“Er…” Harry and Ron mumbled, glancing at each other, too embarrassed to admit what they were struggling with.
Justin nodded, his expression understanding. “Got it. Looks like you’re in a bit of a pickle, but that’s all right.”
“The Green Notes can help with most things,” he continued. “If you’re still stuck, come to me or Neville for Herbology. For Charms and Transfiguration, Hermione’s your best bet. And if you’re still not sure, just catch Shawn on the way to the Great Hall. Oh, and try to get him when he’s not busy and in a good mood—he’s a lot more patient then.”
He gave them a knowing look, making sure they’d caught that last bit. “Anything else you want to ask?”
Harry and Ron, still a little dazed, shook their heads in unison.
Two new wooden desks had appeared in the room, set up by Justin well in advance. Harry and Ron sat down, excitement bubbling inside them. Steaming honey lemon tea waited on their table, the cabinet overflowed with Green Notes, and a small log table held an assortment of sweets. They exchanged a look, eyes sparkling with anticipation.
This was brilliant.
Even after the fire had burned for a while, Harry and Ron still could not believe they had just been admitted to this secret room. A sign behind the door told them the room’s name: The Gifted Hope Room.
After a while, when it was almost time for dinner, Harry and Ron finally nudged Justin, curiosity getting the better of them. “Mr. Finnigan,” Harry asked, “what’s our club called? And… are there rules?”
Justin paused, caught off guard. Their little group had always been easygoing—Shawn and Justin never needed to spell things out, and Hermione usually kept to herself while Neville was too shy to stir up trouble. None of them would ever bring in outsiders without permission or blab about the room’s location.
But now that Harry and Ron were here, it felt like things should be a little more official.
“We should talk about it,” Justin said, raising his voice so everyone could hear. “Everyone, come here.”
At that moment, Shawn had already slipped out of the Hope Room.
“Wait, isn’t Shawn joining?” Harry asked, frowning.
Justin shook his head. “Shawn doesn’t follow rules. He can do whatever he wants.”
He glanced at Hermione and Neville. Hermione rolled her eyes and muttered, “He’s not like the rest of you,” while Neville just nodded, his cheeks turning pink.
