Chapter 345: The Remembrall
"Sean..."
Harry's gaze immediately locked onto Sean, who was currently occupied with refining a set of Herbology notes.
"It's quite clear, Sean, that The Daily Prophet knows more about your personal life than we do," Hermione said, her voice tinged with a playful sort of resentment. She brandished the morning edition of the newspaper. Aside from the feature on Hagrid's exoneration, a massive section was dedicated to a new storefront in Hogsmeade:
SOLD OUT IN EIGHT HOURS! THE BOOK SERIES REVOLUTIONIZING WIZARDING EDUCATION!
"The reporting is a bit... flamboyant, isn't it? And the author is Rita Skeeter?" Ron remarked, looking over Hermione's shoulder. "I mean, blimey, have you lot seen her other column? She just finished calling Armando Dippet a half-wit. I can't imagine what she was thinking when she wrote this much praise for a bookstore."
Justin pulled out his own copy of the paper, immediately spotting the exaggerated statistics Ron was referring to.
Green's Bookstore sold ten times more stock in eight hours than every other Hogsmeade shop combined in twenty-four!
Rita's "analytical" approach was to compare the eight hours the shop was actually open to a full twenty-four-hour cycle of other dormant businesses. It was a statistical nightmare, but it served its purpose. With that kind of framing, she had easily painted Green's Bookstore as the premier literary establishment in the British Wizarding World.
As the group immersed themselves in the news, Snowy arrived, a copy of the Prophet clutched in her beak.
Sean held out his hand, and the owl landed gracefully on his palm. With a tiny flick of his wand, several bits of bacon, toast crumbs, and a small dish of pumpkin juice floated onto Snowy's dedicated gold-rimmed saucer. Once the snow-dusted messenger had begun to tuck into her reward, Sean turned his attention to the paper.
Is Green's Bookstore the best in the Wizarding World? Undeniably! Rita Skeeter reports on the cultural phenomenon...
Sean scanned the sensationalist text and quickly tucked it away. His mind was already elsewhere. Now that the bookstore was a success, he finally had a dedicated platform to publish his more advanced alchemical journals.
"I'm not surprised, actually," Hermione said, her chin lifting slightly as she remembered something. "Rita Skeeter is the type who knows exactly which way the wind is blowing. She's a professional sycophant."
"Why would she bother sucking up to Sean?" Ron muttered. Then, his head snapped up, and he looked at Sean with a wide-eyed, localized realization.
Sean Green... the wizard officially recognized by the International Alchemical Association as the most gifted alchemist in six centuries. The youngest member in the history of the Union. The only Hogwarts student to win the Pioneer Contribution Gold Award since... well, since anyone could remember.
Professor Dumbledore had been five years older than Sean when he received that same honor. In many academic metrics, Sean wasn't just a student—he was a titan who had already surpassed the Headmaster's younger self.
Having lived and studied beside him for over a year, Ron found it hard to reconcile the quiet boy in the Room of Hope with the international celebrity in the papers.
"Hermione, look," Justin said. He was always the more composed, observant member of the group. He pointed to Rita Skeeter's byline.
"What is—wait. You mean...?" Hermione trailed off, her eyes widening as she clutched the paper.
For days, they had been searching for a publication willing to run an exposé on Gilderoy Lockhart, and a reporter brave (or opportunistic) enough to dig up the dirt. Now, the perfect candidate had practically delivered herself to their doorstep.
Discussion about the bookstore continued to rumble through the Great Hall. The students accepted the fact that Sean had opened another business with relative ease. Once you heard that a fellow student had faced a Basilisk with a silver sword and won, find out he owned a shop was hardly a shock.
However, that was only the perspective of the Room of Hope circle. Across the four House tables, the rest of the school was looking at the Ravenclaw table with undisguised awe.
"Mr. Green finally has a shop. I can finally buy all the notes I want without waiting for a restock..." Hannah Abbott said, her voice a mix of bashfulness and thrill. The Hufflepuffs around her nodded like a synchronized row of dolls. To them, Green's Notes were a gift from the heavens. During the term, they helped you understand the magic; during finals, a single volume was usually enough to guarantee a passing grade in any subject.
They were essentially holy relics.
The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws were equally energized. Over at the Slytherin table, however...
"It's just a pile of notes," Pansy Parkinson sniffed.
"Buy ten sets," Draco Malfoy commanded, his eyes narrowed as he watched the Ravenclaw table. Crabbe and Goyle nodded instantly, not even pausing to chew.
"You'll understand soon enough, Parkinson," Malfoy added with a look of feigned depth.
Discussion regarding the bookstore's "New Horizon" series grew more heated. Since the shop was in Hogsmeade, the upper-years would be the first to see it in person. Requests for "proxy-buying" from younger students, along with plans for illicit trips into the village, dominated the pre-Christmas chatter.
Just then, Malfoy's owl arrived, carrying a bulky parcel of sweets from home. This was a daily occurrence, and he made a show of tearing it open at the Slytherin table—only this time, tucked between the sugar quills and chocolate frogs, was a complete leather-bound set of Green's Notes.
At the same time, an owl delivered a small package to Neville Longbottom from his grandmother.
Neville opened it with trembling fingers, revealing a glass ball about the size of a large marble, filled with swirling white smoke.
"Look! It's my Remembrall! I haven't been forgetting much lately, so Gran waited to send it..." he explained to the curious onlookers. "I just have to hold it tight, like this. If it turns red—oh..."
Neville's face fell. The smoke inside the ball had suddenly flared into a brilliant, angry scarlet.
"...I've forgotten something..."
Neville began to rack his brain, trying to figure out what he had missed. The Remembrall slipped from his hand and rolled along the table, stopping right in front of Sean.
Sean reached out and picked it up. To his surprise, the ball didn't return to white. It continued to pulse with a steady, vibrant red light.
Sean's brow furrowed.
"Are you telling me," Ron said, his jaw dropping, "that you have dozens of master plans on that map of yours, and you've actually managed to forget one of them?!"
"Sean, mate, give yourself a rest," Harry added. "You're allowed to be human once in a while."
Sean remained silent, staring at the red smoke churning within the glass.
"Neville, your Remembrall," Sean said softly, handing the ball back. He stood up and walked away from the table.
"Oh... right. Thanks..." Neville took the ball and watched Sean's retreating back. He could feel a sense of confusion radiating from the older boy—an emotion he had almost never seen Sean display.
As Sean passed through the Entrance Hall, he saw Mr. Filch standing by the oak doors. The caretaker was checking names against a long list, his eyes darting from face to face with paranoid intensity, ensuring no underage student slipped out toward the village.
Filch's jowls quivered as he muttered to himself, "Vexing! Utterly vexing! Another weekend of these wretched wizards coming back from Hogsmeade with Stinkpels, Hiccup Sweets, and Frog-Spawn Soap..."
[End of Chapter 345]
☆☆☆
-> SUPPORT ME WITH POWER STONE
-> FOR EVERY 200 PS = BOUNS CHAPTER
☆☆☆
-> 20 Advanced chapters Now Available on Patreon!!
-> https://www.pat-reon.co-m/c/Inkshaper
(Just remove the hyphen (-) to access patreon normally)
If you like this novel please consider leaving a review that's help the story a lot Thank you