That whole three-headed dog business felt like just a blip in Sean's Hogwarts routine—no big waves, really.
Professor Flitwick's notes, though? Total game-changer. The stuff in there was still kinda hazy, but even the fuzz had these little threads of real knowledge you could pull on.
[On the wand movement for the Aguamenti Charm, it's often described as an "upward diagonal arc."
Miranda Goshawk, in The Standard Book of Spells: Grade 1, compares it to "the curve of water from a fountain statue"—super vivid and easy to picture, perfect for newbies building that mental image.
But in her later Book of Spells, she tweaks it to "the beautiful arc made by natural water flow striking a rock."
Shame she never spilled why she changed it up.
From what I've seen in actual casting, though, that second motion does guide your magic smoother and keeps the flow steady—proven it out in class loads of times.
So maybe we can guess the switch wasn't random; sounds like she dug deeper into how charms really tick.]
"I think I've got it—"
Hogwarts on a Saturday usually had that lazy, drag-your-feet vibe, but not in this owl-guarded classroom.
Bright and early, two kids' heads were bent together over a table piled high with books, deep in the weeds.
In the corner, steam from three cups of honey-lemon tea curled up lazy, blurring their serious faces.
"Wanna give it a shot?"
Sean had been staring at that passage forever, turning to the little witch beside him.
"You bet—Aqua—men—ti!"
Hermione flicked her wand with total confidence, tracing a natural arc.
A thin trickle spilled from the tip... then splat—right on the floor.
"Needs more lift, more oomph... wait, what am I even saying..."
She was trying to nail down the feeling, but it came out as fuzzy as the book.
With a quiet sigh, she shot Sean a look, hoping he'd get it.
"Bigger arc, quicker flick?"
He Tergeo'd the puddle first, then broke it down step by step—watching her eyes light up brighter with every word.
"Aqua—men—ti!"
[You've practiced the Aguamenti Charm to apprentice level. Proficiency +1.]
[Aguamenti Charm: Unlocked (27/30)]
[Summoning Charm: Unlocked (1/30)]
[Levitation Charm: Beginner (200/900)]
Half a day in, and Sean had ground Aguamenti almost to unlock.
Couldn't have done it without Hermione's help—Granger had a real gift for Charms, no doubt.
Otherwise, how else could she have levitated that troll's club in the Halloween bathroom showdown?
Sean Tergeo'd the floor again, pushing through before the burnout hit full force with a few more reps.
[You've practiced the Aguamenti Charm to apprentice level. Proficiency +1.]
[You've practiced the Aguamenti Charm to beginner level. Proficiency +3.]
[Aguamenti Charm Unlocked.]
Not too tough, all told.
But total magic drain? Brutal. Sean's arm felt like dead weight; couldn't even lift his wand.
He locked eyes with the wiped-out Hermione—their grins said it all: new spell in the bag.
"Now the Summoning Charm—Flitwick's notes say: For unknown stuff, you don't need the exact name, just some key trait.
It's not impossible with live things, but most won't come, and the ones that do? Probably not worth the hassle..."
Hermione rattled it off like a tongue-twister; anyone else would've been lost.
But after late-night cramming sessions and powering through the whole notebook in one go, Sean followed every bit.
Ever since the Fluffy fiasco, Hermione had gone full-on obsessed with Charms—maybe the close call lit a fire under her.
She'd drag Sean into magic deep-dives all the time.
As for Justin? Something went down between him and Harry. Once he heard Hermione insisted on tagging along, his edge softened big time.
She was still icing Harry and Ron, but Justin? He'd flipped on his take:
"Sean, Harry's nothing like I thought. We talked, and he straight-up apologized for Hermione—looked gutted, no faking that.
We chatted a bit, and honestly? If some Slytherin mess hit me like that, I'd break rules left and right too."
Justin sounded almost wistful.
"If anything stuck from this, it's don't judge till you know the full story—Mom was spot on."
Sean nodded slow, then headed out.
He was dying to meet Mrs. Finch-Fletchley—she had to glow or something.
Left alone, Justin worked a miracle: slipped Hermione a note.
[Sorry, Granger.]
Totally caught Sean off guard... but made perfect sense.
Even as a first-year, Harry was showing that old-soul grit.
Grew up bullied and ignored by the Dursleys, but it didn't twist him bitter or break him small.
Nah—it forged this quiet kindness and a fierce pull toward what's right.
Sean might've been the only other first-year who got that vibe, deep down.
They were both orphans, after all.
If Sean's core was that rock-solid self-belief keeping him straight, Harry's was pure steel—unbending.
He'd never be a bad kid, or some hothead loose cannon.
If Sean had to pin it, Harry was the war orphan who deserved a little extra grace.
Those quick childhood sketches in the books? They hid shadows that could stretch forever.
So Sean wasn't about to gripe at Dumbledore hiring Quirrell or rigging the fourth-floor traps.
If Harry didn't toughen up, and Dumbledore couldn't sniff out the double-agent...
Who'd take down Voldemort?
Only thing? Stay miles from Quirrell.
Sean let out a slow breath, thinking it over.
A warm gust ruffled his hair, making his green eyes spark brighter.
Post-rain grass steamed misty, fresh earth hitting him square, with a faint whiff of damp oak from the stands' night-soaked benches.
He spotted Madam Hooch stowing brooms and jogged over:
"Madam Hooch, mind if I practice flying here? Won't take long."
He asked all polite and stiff.
"Oh, you think I've been hanging around for someone else? Greene—take this broom!"
Her hawk eyes scanned him, then she chucked over a decent Cleansweep Seven.
"Thanks."
He swung on smooth, and—placebo or not—the spell fatigue eased up just a touch.