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HP: I have a Proficiency Panel - 68
🕑 Added 2025-11-10 17:08:51 +0000 UTCChapter 68: Neville Longbottom
[You practiced Flying once at Expert standard, Proficiency +50]
[A new title in the Flying domain has been unlocked]
By the time Shawn left the Quidditch pitch, his Flying skill had broken through Entry-level and reached Proficient.
He opened the panel as naturally as breathing:
[Title: Intermediate Flier]
[Significantly increases perception of broomstick magic. Significantly improves Flying talent. Slightly improves short-burst performance in flight.]
Shawn still felt a touch of unreality holding the Nimbus 2000 in his hands.
The thing that had troubled him for so long had arrived in such an unbelievable way.
Professor McGonagall was as warm as the elderly lady who used to visit the orphanage. Back then, she always brought pudding to Shawn’s sickbed.
He respected her the way one respects a teacher.
For a moment, he truly took Hogwarts as... home.
In the corridor, Shawn heard a strange sound. It was the sound of a boy crying.
At the end of the corridor, in the shadows, Neville Longbottom had curled in on himself against the cold stone wall.
The rough bite of the stone pressed through his robes into his shoulder, but he could hardly feel it. A sharper pain was spreading through his chest, closing around his throat.
Tears rolled down uncontrollably, scalding hot.
He bit his lower lip hard, trying to kill the humiliating sobs, and tasted only salt and a deeper, heavier shame.
The scene from Charms class replayed again and again. He had raised his wand nervously, spoken the incantation for the Levitation Charm, and a blinding, uncontrolled flash had shot out and struck Professor Flitwick, who had no guard up.
He had watched as the professor’s small body lifted like a feather and crashed into the bookshelf behind, quills and parchment cascading down in sheets.
The world had frozen.
But Professor Flitwick had climbed to his feet and merely brushed dust from his robes, not a single word of rebuke.
That patience and kindness pressed down on Neville’s heart like the heaviest stone.
He did not deserve it.
He was an idiot. An idiot who could not master the simplest spell and even hurt his professor.
Just like the Slytherins said...
He buried his face against his knees. His thin shoulders shook.
Then hesitant footsteps sounded, light in the wide corridor, and stopped nearby.
Neville held his breath, hoping to vanish.
The newcomer seemed to look him over for a few seconds, then the steps sounded again—lighter, slower, careful—drawing closer.
Finally, the person stopped a little way to one side and crouched.
"Longbottom?"
Michael had a book in his hand. He was supposed to be doing something important today, but he could not just walk past someone crying.
"Mistakes in Charms are normal. Professor Flitwick didn’t even scold you, did he?"
Neville nearly burst into tears again.
Michael panicked and blurted, "It’s just learning a spell, isn’t it? Fine. I’ll tell you a secret. Go down this corridor, take the spiral stairs from the second floor to the third, and wait at the end of the first passage. You’ll find the trick that lets Finch-Fletchley improve so quickly."
He slapped his forehead in remorse.
Damn it. He had observed that it took a long time to figure it out. He had meant to go himself and give Shawn a proper scare.
"What?" Neville could not quite keep up.
"Just go."
Michael shoved a slip of paper into Neville’s hand.
"Don’t look at the note."
He gave the warning and left, and Neville stood there, dazed and alone.
The note said only:
[Shawn, please, please teach him. Your Charms are the best. I’ve watched. Mr. Longbottom only lacks confidence. With the top student we have right now helping, I guarantee he can learn the Levitation Charm in thirty minutes. I am willing to offer all my puddings for this. —Yours faithfully, Michael]
Shawn stood at the junction of two corridors.
He had heard the entire exchange clearly.
He quietly changed his route to the classroom. Michael had gotten the location wrong at the end.
Shawn had often heard Slytherins mock Neville. Even in Gryffindor, he was never popular.
But his magic did not seem weak.
"Th-thank you, Mr. Green. Thank you, thank you—Michael too..."
Neville’s eyes were still wet, as if Shawn had done something great.
In truth, Shawn had merely given him his notes and emphasized a few key points, and Neville had cast the Levitation Charm as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
They had not even reached the end of the second corridor.
Shawn did not notice that as Mr. Longbottom left with gratitude, two pairs of eyes grew behind the edge of the sky-blue door.
Shawn opened the classroom door.
All it took was a glance, and puzzlement rose in his eyes.
"Switching seats is fine..."
At that, Justin and Hermione shot to their feet, faces scarlet, and scurried back to their proper chairs.
Damn it. Too much of a rush...
Shawn considered it for a moment, then returned to Charms practice as usual.
"Accio, Quill!"
He enunciated precisely. The quill leapt at once and drifted neatly into his hand.
[You practiced the Summoning Charm once at Proficient standard, Proficiency +10]
[You practiced the Summoning Charm once at Proficient standard, Proficiency +10]
...
Shawn slumped into the chair and drank the potion down in gulps.
Then he opened the panel:
[Summoning Charm: Entry-level (3/900)]
[Water-Making Spell: Entry-level (2/900)]
[Levitation Charm: Entry-level (200/900)]
Next, all he needed was to grind the Levitation Charm’s proficiency, and he would reach Professor Flitwick’s target.
Shawn looked at the bench with the prominent wooden knot and considered whether he could levitate it.
Before his strength returned, the first afternoon class had begun.
Wednesday.
Ravenclaw’s first afternoon class was Herbology.
The greenhouse held no buzz of noise today.
The little wizards who usually clustered there had vanished.
Even among Hufflepuffs, few could keep at the work in the greenhouse for long.
Magical plants did not grow in a day. Once the novelty faded, too little love remained to drive them forward.
Because of a certain "attack on a professor" incident, even Neville—who had stayed in the greenhouse—was nowhere to be seen.
Professor Sprout looked at the empty Greenhouse One, and even her usually gentle smile deepened with a hint of loss.
