"I understand, Professor," Sean said, wiping his cauldron clean. Before leaving, he paused, his green eyes brimming with sincerity. "Thank you for the ingredients and your guidance."
As he left the dungeon, Professor Snape's face flickered in the candlelight, shadows dancing across his features.
He wouldn't forget those techniques. He didn't know where Sean had learned them, but they stirred memories of rare, bright moments.
He'd never seen a student so purely passionate about Potions.
Sean didn't care about mockery or personal grudges—only the craft itself mattered to him. His love for Potions was raw, untainted, and his methods were strikingly familiar, reminiscent of someone Snape had once studied and explored the subject with—some of his few moments of light.
That focus, those familiar techniques, pierced Snape's heart with a pang.
He loathed seeing his own reflection in someone else, especially when it tied to everything he'd lost.
His gaze darkened. Was it bitterness, anger, or a flicker of admiration he couldn't suppress?
Outside, a storm raged, the rain-soaked air heavy with emotions as fierce and persistent as the wind.
Sean clutched his books, his steps light.
Ignoring Snape's sharp tongue, the man might actually be a decent professor. At the very least, his passion for Potions was genuine, and his skill was undeniable.
Sean's exhaustion from the Potions ritual was nearly gone. By tomorrow, he'd be ready to test improvements to see how much they'd boost the quality.
Most importantly, Snape seemed to have read Master Polacci's notes. Maybe he could offer guidance on refining the ritual?
What Sean didn't know was that Snape wasn't the only one who'd seen those improvements.
It was nearing curfew now. Sean overheard two cheerful Gryffindors humming A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love:
"Oh, come stir my cauldron,
And if you do it right,
I'll brew up some hot, strong love,
To keep you warm tonight…"
It was a jazzy tune sung by Celestina Warbeck, wildly popular in the wizarding world.
"You're done for!" Sean heard an odd sound.
Two young wizards were playing Gobstones, a favorite pastime among Hogwarts students.
The loser's penalty?
A few stones sprayed a foul-smelling liquid right into the horrified wizard's face.
Yeah, it was hard to fathom what inspired the game's inventor.
As an owl took flight, a pair of sharp eyes appeared in the distance.
Minerva McGonagall's usually stern face held a complex mix of emotions, especially as Sean, visibly tired, passed a group of young wizards making the most of their last Saturday before classes.
She was only now realizing how much effort he'd been putting in, unnoticed, for so long.
The chilly Scottish Highland wind swept over the Black Lake, crashing against Hogwarts' ancient stone walls, creating a deep, resonant hum.
In that rumble, the castle seemed to stir awake.
"Young wizards! Pesky young wizards! Answering early again!" squawked Mr. Owl, making a racket as Sean entered the classroom, unfazed.
Of the trio, Hermione was, unusually, the last to arrive.
Sean and Justin were early risers, hitting the practice room by six, which drove a certain young witch up the wall.
"It's not fair!" she'd complain. "What kind of wizard only needs seven hours of sleep and still bursts with energy?"
"Morning, Sean," Justin greeted, holding a coconut milk pudding he was enchanting with a food-related spell.
Sean noticed an open book nearby, its pink cover featuring a turkey in the center: Charm Your Own Feast!, a must-have for any wizarding kitchen.
"Sean, please try this new flavor I tweaked," Justin said, passing the pudding over.
He didn't mention that the earlier, less tasty version had been gobbled up by ravenous Hufflepuffs the day before.
[You practiced the Aguamenti Charm at Apprentice level, Proficiency +1]
[You practiced the Aguamenti Charm at Beginner level, Proficiency +3]
[You practiced the Aguamenti Charm at Beginner level, Proficiency +3]
Sean practiced until he could barely lift his wand.
After jotting down notes on the Aguamenti Charm's details, he quietly opened his panel:
[Aguamenti Charm: Apprentice Level (110/300)]
[Summoning Charm: Locked (1/30)]
[Levitation Charm: Beginner Level (200/900)]
At this rate, he'd hit Beginner level by tomorrow—a blazing pace.
As he headed to the Quidditch pitch, Justin sidled up. "Hey, Sean, you know what my mom says? There are countless ways to face the world, but creation never fades."
He added with a belated grin, "You ready to embrace that change with me?"
Before Sean could respond, Justin dragged him to a courtyard packed with young wizards.
It was hard to believe Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and Gryffindors were mingling so peacefully. They were whispering excitedly, and when Justin arrived, the chatter turned to a roar.
"Sean, I knew it was you!" Michael called out, grinning broadly. He jerked his chin at Seamus and others. "Pay up, ten Knuts."
"Fine, fine…"
"A bet's a bet…"
Sean watched as Seamus, Ernie, and others grumbled, handing over Knuts. Michael winked at him, mouthing, "We'll split it later."
Sean got the gist.
"Are History of Magic notes really that popular?" he whispered to Justin.
"Oh, my dear Sean, you're missing the point. You've done something no one in the wizarding world has before. It's an untapped market!" Justin's pale gray eyes gleamed with rare sharpness.
"When third-years started coming to me, I knew it was big. Think about it—Professor Binns' vague lectures, mountains of homework, and the struggle to self-study. Who wouldn't want clear, concise notes? I haven't shared the full thing, just snippets from the last assignment, nothing major."
He leaned closer, whispering, "When everyone's drowning in Binns' latest confusing essay, they come to me, begging for those notes… and they're willing to pay."
The popularity of Sean's History of Magic notes was staggering. Nearly every young wizard had bought a copy, and Justin's approach kept the buzz alive.
"It's like a serial," Justin explained. "We release small batches. With History of Magic's vast scope, even a fraction fills half a book. And your essay method? Michael's been spreading its fame. We've got time to let this grow, but we need to keep it legit, scientific at its core. Oh, and Sean, don't forget—Hogwarts has more subjects than just History of Magic… and the wizarding world is bigger than Hogwarts."
Justin's eyes sparkled as he spoke, and Sean just let him ramble.
He headed to the Quidditch pitch, figuring at his current pace, he'd soon be soaring back to the Ravenclaw Tower—or at least halfway there.