[You have successfully processed a nettle to apprentice standards. Proficiency +1]
[You have successfully processed a nettle to apprentice standards. Proficiency +1]
…
[Herbology Knowledge Unlocked]
[New Herbology Title Unlocked. Please Review]
[New Wizard Talent Unlocked. Please Review]
After two days of hard work, Sean had unlocked a new Herbology title. Eagerly, he checked his progress:
[Title: Herbology Intern]
[Slightly increases sensitivity to plants. Slightly enhances Herbology talent.]
Increased sensitivity to plants?
That didn't sound half bad.
Sean scrolled down to see more:
[Wizard Sean, Herbology Talent: Green (Enhanced by Herbology Intern title; original talent: White). Note: Average wizard talent is Green.]
His talent, as always, excelled at being underwhelming.
Oh well.
At least I can grind proficiency to improve, Sean thought.
Soon enough, he felt the benefits of his upgraded talent. While identifying mature dried nettles, a strange intuition guided him to pick a perfectly ripened one. After soaking and processing it, he earned his first "Beginner" milestone in Herbology:
[You have successfully processed a nettle to beginner standards. Proficiency +3]
The wizarding world really was a place of talent-driven magic. Sean's stereotypical view of it only deepened.
"Excellent work, Mr. Green! Two points to Ravenclaw!"
Professor Sprout approached, looking slightly surprised.
"Everyone, come take a look! Observe these processed nettles. The stinging hairs and short fuzz are completely gone—this is exactly how a high-quality nettle ingredient should look. Great progress, Mr. Green," she said quietly, encouraging him as the others examined the nettles.
Herbology class ended quickly, and as Sean left the greenhouse, he caught whispers from other young wizards.
"Is that…?"
"Sean Green. Haven't you heard of him?"
"Quite the opposite—I'm tired of hearing about him. They say he's brilliant in Charms and Transfiguration. Is he from a wizarding family?"
"That's the scariest part. Word is, he's Muggle-born…"
When Sean glanced over, the two whispering students flushed red and hurried off.
"Sean, looks like you're famous," Michael teased with a grin.
"Isn't that how it should be? I've never seen a wizard ace every subject… well, except Potions."
Michael's teasing came to an abrupt halt during Astronomy class.
"…Stairs, stairs, and more stairs. Terry, do you see the end?" Michael panted, glancing at Sean, whose face was still worryingly pale.
"They say the Astronomy Tower is the tallest in all of Hogwarts… even taller than Ravenclaw Tower…" Michael muttered, sharing his bits of gossip while keeping half a step behind Sean.
"Is that so?"
Anthony chimed in, subtly moving closer to Michael. The two flanked Sean, whose pale face stood out as they climbed.
Astronomy was taught by Professor Aurora Sinistra, a witch with an ethereal presence. She guided the young wizards in using telescopes to observe the stars, teaching them the names of constellations and the paths of planetary orbits.
Her classroom was filled with instruments—lunar globes, moon charts, lunascopes, star maps, and telescopes—making it feel more like a research institute than a classroom. The only difference was the breathtaking night sky and the silent hum of intricate magical devices.
Thanks to his familiarity with telescopes, Sean quickly caught Professor Sinistra's attention. She even allowed him to use a large metallic orb to predict the orbit of Jupiter's moon, Io.
This made Terry insanely jealous. The usually quiet boy asked Sean no fewer than three times what it felt like to use the device.
Sean described it in detail, and Terry's longing was palpable.
"Oh, Merlin! That must be amazing. It's such a rare magical lunascope…"
By the time Astronomy class ended, it was nearly curfew. Sean's face wasn't looking great after climbing the tower twice, but it didn't stop him from organizing his Astronomy notes.
If he remembered correctly, first-year wizards focused on learning star names and planetary orbits. It wasn't difficult—just memorize them. The only tricky part was sketching orbit charts, but for Sean, that was a breeze.
Never underestimate the power of a Muggle education!
After sorting his notes, Sean pulled out books on Potions and History of Magic. He'd already prepared for potion brewing, and now he was scouring the texts for brewing techniques.
Though the books mostly listed strict steps and brief descriptions, Sean found a few vague hints:
[For the Boil-Cure Potion, stir two times counterclockwise, then three times clockwise, with moderate force…]
Moderate force? What did that even mean?
He found an answer in A History of Magic:
[The self-stirring cauldron is a magically enchanted cauldron that stirs potions automatically. The spoon often breaks bubbles during stirring…]
Sean guessed that breaking bubbles was probably what "moderate force" meant.
As expected, history was a great teacher, even in the wizarding world.
In the Ravenclaw common room, the atmosphere was usually quiet, but that didn't mean the young wizards were always studying. Kids their age loved to play.
After finishing his History of Magic essay, Michael had been playing Gobstones for an hour. Spotting Sean still buried in his books, he exchanged a glance with Terry, who was examining rocks, and seized the moment when Sean swapped books.
"Sean, I'm just saying, I've never seen you do anything but study. Don't wizards need more in their lives than just learning? Charms, Transfiguration, History of Magic… Merlin's beard, you're so far ahead it's ridiculous. Don't you ever get bored?"
Sean looked up.
Bored?
What was he talking about?
This was magic!
It came with instant, positive feedback—the more you learned, the more fun it got, the more motivated you felt.
And with magic, effort directly translated into tangible power. You could see it, feel it.
Not to mention its practicality and versatility—it was practically a miracle of imagination.
Then it hit Sean. For most young wizards, magic was something they were born with. Maybe that's why they didn't treasure it as much.
But for Sean, who had spent three months bedridden in an orphanage, his heart growing as numb as his body, magic was different.
It was an owl braving a snowstorm to deliver his Hogwarts letter. It was Professor McGonagall covering his school supplies and helping him apply for scholarships.
They gave him hope and passion for life before he could even move freely again.
Having known the mundane, Sean cherished the miracle of magic all the more. He loved the feeling of wielding world-changing wonders with his own hands.
And with his proficiency panel? It was like a permanent badge of progress.
"Huh? Sean, did you figure something out? Wanna play Gobstones?" Michael asked eagerly, noticing Sean set his book down.
"Sorry," Sean shook his head, pulling out a copy of Advanced Potion-Making from the library. "I just want to study."