Magic doesn't always open its doors to those without talent, but even wizards with a spark of it aren't always the sharpest wands in the box.
Sean quietly tucked away his quill-shaped lollipop, while Hermione stood there, silent and a bit flustered. When Sean swapped it for a real quill, he glanced over to see Hermione glaring at Justin, who was barely holding back laughter—like she'd turn him into a skunk if he so much as chuckled.
"Go ahead and laugh," Sean sighed.
"Hahaha—Sean, Hermione, come on, you didn't actually think that was a real quill, did you? That's the second funniest thing I've heard all day!"
Justin doubled over, laughing so hard he could barely stand.
"Jus-tin!" Hermione huffed, her cheeks puffing out.
At her tone, Justin instantly zipped it.
"Uh, Hermione, can you help me out? I've been practicing the Summoning Charm, but I can't get it to work. Is it my wand movement?"
"Your wand flick's too hesitant," Hermione said, her embarrassment fading as she switched to teacher mode, giving Justin pointers with a serious nod.
Sean turned his attention to the quill in his hand. He pulled a broken one from his bag—quills were supposed to be durable, but not in his hands. He'd cleverly whittled the feather's shaft with a knife to stretch its life, but a worn-out quill was bound to give up eventually. The lost bits were gone for good.
"Accio—Quill!" he said clearly.
The quill quivered violently and floated gently into his hand.
[You've practiced the Summoning Charm at an apprentice level. Proficiency +1]
Sean froze. Summoning Charm? Why did the system call it that instead of the Flying Charm?
In the wizarding world, coincidences were rare. He mulled it over.
"The strength of a spell comes from the wizard's will acting on the target, creating the Summoning Charm," he murmured. "Accio—Quill!"
As soon as he spoke, every quill in the classroom trembled and zoomed toward him.
[You've practiced the Summoning Charm at a beginner level. Proficiency +3]
It wasn't just quills. Justin, clutching one, stumbled forward and crashed onto the wooden desk in front of Sean.
As Sean calmly watched, debating whether to help him up, Hermione let out a stifled "pfft" and teased, "Nice moves—new dance you're working on?"
Justin's face turned beet red.
Sean was starting to get the hang of the Summoning Charm's quirks. Like Hermione had explained, you didn't need an item's exact name to summon it—just a clear idea of its properties. For example, Hermione might not know a book's title but could summon it by picturing "a book about the Summoning Charm" and setting a range, like "Hogwarts." The item matching her intent would fly to her.
The catch? It drained a ton of energy.
If you could summon living things, the spell would be terrifyingly powerful—but, of course, it didn't work that way. Harry had once tried summoning Hagrid and, unsurprisingly, failed. Sean figured that was probably for the best—imagine Hagrid zooming through the air! And no matter what Harry muttered, Ginny wasn't about to come flying either.
As Sean's understanding of the charm deepened, his progress spiked:
[You've practiced the Summoning Charm at a beginner level. Proficiency +3]
[You've practiced the Summoning Charm at a skilled level. Proficiency +10]
[Summoning Charm Unlocked]
Exhausted, Sean set his wand down and glanced at Hermione and Justin, who looked equally wiped. But Justin bounced back fast, somehow pulling three steaming cups of honey jasmine tea from nowhere. Even now, Sean had no clue where Justin stashed all his snacks. All he knew was the tea was delicious.
As dusk draped over the castle, Sean headed to the dungeons. The long corridor was sliced into patches of light and shadow by the setting sun. The portraits on the walls were at their liveliest, enjoying their favorite time of day.
The Fat Lady popped up next to her best friend, Lady Violet, clearly a bit tipsy. She leaned elegantly against her frame, humming an off-key tune. "Look, it's Sean Green—Sir Cadogan's 'Ace Troublemaker,'" she teased with a smirk.
Hogwarts' portraits weren't just paintings—they loved stirring up fun. They'd hop between frames, make up passwords, dish out life advice, or challenge students to duels. Behind the scenes, they cooked up all sorts of mischief, and their favorite was betting on the "Ace Troublemaker"—a term that, despite sounding cheeky, showed a portrait's fondness for a young wizard.
"In the name of knighthood, Fat Lady, ten centuries of experience don't lie," Sir Cadogan declared. "Young Green's gonna make waves in the wizarding world, mark my words."
His words caught the Fat Lady's attention—knights never lied, after all.
Down in the dungeons, time seemed to vanish.
Severus Snape had been there for who-knows-how-long, until the storm outside quieted.
The dungeon was its usual cold, isolated self. The air clung to the scent of potions, and stacks of parchment towered high.
Snape stood like a statue carved from the dungeon's shadows, unmoving. In his hand was an unfolded note—if Sean were there, he'd recognize it as hidden knowledge from Libatius Borage's book. Unlike Sean's note, this one had a faint "I" scrawled on it.
Click.
Sean pushed the door open, shattering the silence.
His green eyes lit up when he saw Professor Snape. He hurried to his cauldron, set out his notes, and grabbed materials from the specimen cabinet.
Sean was buzzing with excitement. He had two thrilling tasks today: first, testing Libatius Borage's improved ritual to see how much it boosted potion quality. Every grade increase meant a stronger effect—and a higher price tag. Second, he wanted to confirm a theory from Flying class about whether a wizard's will could fine-tune potion reactions.
But he completely missed the complex look in Snape's eyes.