[You have fully processed a nettle with apprentice Level Skill. Proficiency +1]
[You have fully processed a nettle with apprentice Level Skill. Proficiency +1]
…
[Herbology Cognition unlocked]
[New Herbology field title unlocked, please check]
[A wizard talent has been unlocked, please check]
After two days of effort,
Sean completed the unlocking of the Herbology title.
He eagerly checked:
[Title: Herbology Intern]
[Slightly increases perception of plants, slightly enhances Herbology talent]
Increase perception of plants?
Sounds pretty good.
Sean looked further:
[Wizard Sean
Herbology Talent: Green (with Herbology Intern title bonus, originally White)
Note: Average wizards are Green]
His talent, when it came to being disappointing, never disappointed.
Well, at least I can still improve through grinding Proficiency.
Sean thought.
Soon, Sean began to notice the benefits brought by the talent change.
When identifying mature dry nettles, a strange intuition guided him to select a freshly matured nettle.
After soaking and processing it, he gained his first "entry-level" in the Herbology field:
[You have fully processed a nettle with Beginner Level Skill. Proficiency +3]
Indeed, this is the world of magic where talent matters.
Sean's stereotypical impression of the magical world deepened.
"Excellent handling, Mr. Green. I'll give Ravenclaw two points!"
Professor Sprout, slightly surprised, approached.
"Everyone, come over! Observe these processed nettles—the stinging hairs and short soft hairs have disappeared. This is one feature that excellent nettle material should have— Mr. Green, you're progressing very quickly."
Professor Sprout quietly encouraged everyone while they observed the nettles.
Herbology class ended quickly, and as they left the greenhouse,
Sean heard the whispers of the young witches and wizards.
"What's that?"
"Sean Green, haven't you heard of him?"
"On the contrary, I've heard too much. They say he excels in Charms and Transfiguration—was he born into a wizarding family?"
"That's the scariest part—they say he's a Muggle-born wizard…"
When Sean looked toward the voices, the two whispering students blushed and hurried away.
"Sean, looks like you're famous now."
Michael said teasingly, "Isn't that obvious? I've never seen a wizard skilled at everything… except Potions."
Michael's teasing had to end helplessly during Astronomy class.
"…Stairs, stairs, more stairs. Terry, do you see the top yet?"
Michael panted, sneaking a glance at Sean while talking to Terry.
The young wizard's face was still pale.
"They say the Astronomy Tower is the tallest tower in all of Hogwarts… even taller than Ravenclaw Tower…"
Michael whispered his little rumor as he silently followed half a step behind Sean.
"…Is that so?"
Anthony replied, then subtly edged closer to Michael.
The two walked on either side of the pale-faced young wizard.
The wizardess teaching Astronomy was Professor Aurora Sinnistra, an elegant and poised witch.
She instructed the young witches and wizards to observe the stars through telescopes, learning the names of different stars and the trajectories of planets.
Her classroom was filled with instruments like moon globes, lunar charts, telescopes, star charts—looking much like a research lab.
The only difference from a research lab was that the night sky here was breathtakingly beautiful, and all the precise magical instruments quietly operated.
Because he was already familiar with how telescopes worked, Sean quickly drew Professor Sinnistra's attention,
and was even allowed to use a large metal sphere to predict the orbit of Io, the first moon of Jupiter.
This made Terry extremely envious; usually taciturn, he asked Sean more than three times about how it felt to use it.
Sean described it in detail, and Terry's eagerness was obvious:
"Oh! Merlin! That must be incredible—that's a very rare magical telescope…"
After Astronomy class ended, it was nearly curfew time.
Having climbed the tower twice in a row, Sean looked a bit worn out, but it didn't stop him from organizing his Astronomy notes.
If he remembered correctly, first-year students mainly studied the names of stars and the trajectories of planets.
It wasn't difficult—just memorizing them all.
The only challenging part might be drawing the trajectory charts, but for Sean, that was easy.
Never underestimate the power of basic education!
After finishing his notes, Sean pulled out books on Potions and Magical History for further reading.
The preparatory work for brewing potions was already done, and Sean tried to find some brewing techniques in the books.
Although they contained only strict steps and brief descriptions, he could still extract subtle hints from the details:
[When making scabious potion, stir twice to the left, three times to the right, with moderate force…]
Moderate force?
Sean found the answer in Magical History:
[An auto-stirring cauldron is enchanted to stir potions automatically; its spoon frequently bursts the bubbles…]
Sean guessed that bursting the bubbles was the "moderate force."
Indeed, history was a great teacher—something that didn't change even in the wizarding world.
Ravenclaw Common Room.
It was always quiet here, but that didn't mean the young wizards were always studying; at this age, they were still quite playful.
Michael, having finished his Magical History essay, had already played an hour of fifteen-stone chess.
Seeing Sean still immersed in study, he exchanged a glance with Terry, who was examining various stones, then took advantage of Sean switching books to say:
"Sean, seriously, I've never seen you doing anything else… A wizard's life can't be all study, right? In Charms, Transfiguration, Magical History… Merlin, how much ahead-of-schedule learning have you done by now? Don't you get bored?"
Sean looked up.
Bored?
What… are you talking about?
This is magic!
With its absurdly immediate positive feedback, learning only became more fun and motivating the more you did it.
And for magic, any effort invested could be transformed directly into usable power—
something tangible, something perceptible.
Not to mention its practicality and infinite versatility, almost a miracle of the mind.
Soon, Sean realized he had overlooked one point:
the young wizards' magic was innate.
Perhaps that's why they didn't particularly cherish it.
But for Sean, who had once lain in a hospital bed in an orphanage for three months,
his heart had grown as numb as his body.
It was the owl that braved the snow to enter the room,
and Professor McGonagall, who paid out of pocket for his stationery and applied for scholarships,
who gave him hope and enthusiasm for life before he could act on his own.
Having experienced the ordinary, Sean cherished the miracle of magic all the more.
He enjoyed the feeling of such world-changing miracles being born from his own hands,
especially with the Proficiency panel, proof that his progress was permanent.
"Hey, Sean, have you figured it out? Want to play Wizard's Chess?"
Michael asked enthusiastically as he saw Sean putting a book away.
"Sorry, I just want to study." Sean shook his head and pulled out another library book, Advanced Potion Making.