Ira spoke nervously, giving Sean a fresh perspective on Sir Cadogan's past.
The knight, bored out of his mind for ages, would sometimes pop into a small painting in the kitchen. In his own words:
"No eating, no looking? King Arthur, just burn me already!"
Over time, he got to know nearly all the house-elves.
Long ago, some young wizards used to bully the house-elves, often making them hit their own heads just to see if they'd stop.
Furious, Sir Cadogan chased one of those kids down, scolding them for a whole week. Headmistress Dilys Derwent praised his actions, earning him the fondness of the house-elves—though the knight didn't care much for the attention.
Naturally, that goodwill transferred to Sean.
"Sir Cadogan says, 'If anyone's fit to be a noble knight, it's young Master Green…'"
Ira's voice was soft, but its eyes sparkled whenever it mentioned Sir Cadogan.
Sean conjured a cushion—something he hadn't done in a while—and sat in the kitchen, listening to Ira share stories about the knight.
Like how he single-handedly defeated a troll and held his own against three—
Justin was bustling about, whipping up desserts, clutching Professor Sprout's notes on culinary magic.
Hermione was still eagerly chatting with the house-elves, though they were a bit startled, stammering and trembling as they answered.
Justin called the Hogwarts kitchens the best place ever. Sean saw firsthand how Justin, in full swing, could churn out dishes almost as fast as the house-elves.
Naturally, Sean ate way too much.
So when a lazy afternoon rolled around, a few young wizards found themselves at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
The sunlight was soft and gentle.
Sean and his friends stopped a dozen steps from the dark, towering trees, which stood like an emerald wall but left room for a gentle slope covered in soft moss.
Sunlight filtered through the high branches, casting dappled golden spots. At the brightest patch, an ancient beech tree stretched out its massive limbs.
The air was damp, thick with the scent of earth and a faint trace of wildflowers.
"On the train, the house-elves handle all our luggage, getting it to Hogwarts. They also clean our clothes and cook our food…"
Justin was explaining to Hermione, his voice mingling with ethereal bird calls from deep in the forest and the rustle of some small creature darting through the bushes.
"Because they can Apparate whenever they want, and use Disillusionment Charms—"
Hermione asked questions, added details, and scribbled in her notebook.
This reminded Sean of something Ira had said:
"Ira wants to help Sean Green. If Sean Green needs food or anything else, Ira can get it for him. Just call for Ira."
Sean glanced at the nervous circle of house-elves around him and gave a quiet nod.
Next thing he knew, Ira was swarmed by the other elves.
All in all, Sean gained the privilege of unlimited pumpkin juice—maybe even unlimited food.
After a while, Hermione and Justin's conversation turned to the Forbidden Forest.
"A lot of Gryffindors want to explore the Forbidden Forest. I can't believe how reckless they are!" Hermione said, her tone tinged with exasperation.
"At least they're just thinking about it, right? Mr. Scamander got himself expelled," Justin teased.
The famous magizoologist was a Hogwarts legend, known for breaking countless school rules by keeping magical creatures.
One story involved him venturing into the Forbidden Forest with Leta Lestrange.
But truth be told, aside from a few Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs rarely broke school rules.
This wasn't the era of Professor Black, when the Forbidden Forest was practically a daily haunt, and students greeted each other with waves instead of gossip.
Though Justin and Hermione seemed focused on their discussion, they kept sneaking glances at Sean.
The breeze from the Black Lake carried a damp chill, and the shadows of the three young wizards slowly merged as the sun dipped.
"Ira?"
That night, in the Ravenclaw dormitory, Sean called softly. Within seconds, a small figure appeared.
"Master Sean Green, it's an honor to serve you," Ira said, fidgeting with the frayed hem of its clothes, looking uneasy.
"I'd like a cup of hot milk. Oh, and this is for you."
Sean placed a piece of candied hawthorn in Ira's hand. He'd made it in the kitchen, following a recipe from memory. Logically, candied hawthorn shouldn't be that quick to make, but magic didn't care about logic.
"No, no! Ira can't accept a gift from Master Sean Green—serving Master Sean Green is what Ira's supposed to do!"
Ira looked utterly shocked, but its eyes soon shimmered with something like tears.
"Please, take it," Sean insisted.
In a flash, the stunned house-elf vanished, leaving behind a cup of hot milk and some biscuits.
Sean took a sip, knowing his health had improved a lot. Hogwarts never skimped on food—nutritious and plentiful.
Of course, Professor Snape's potions had helped, too. Sean figured he was at least halfway recovered. The rest would take time, but with Snape's potent potions, it wouldn't take that long.
By the dorm window, Sean held his Nimbus 2000, feeling its structure and the magic pulsing through it. He knew this was a talent—a knack for alchemical creations.
His notebook gained a few new entries, not just about Transfiguration or tomorrow's flying test.
The night deepened.
At the same window, Hermione was still reading by candlelight. To avoid nosy comments, she'd cast a Silencing Charm and moved to the sill.
She was still surprised that Justin had managed to get Sean to take a break for a day. She wondered what that knight in the portrait had said to him to pull it off.
"Fine, let's say he's a house with locked doors and windows. Doesn't matter—I'll keep ringing the bell," Hermione recalled Justin's light but determined words.