"Take these Canary Creams, little Gryffindor. We've gotta give you something for your trouble. Now, me and Pister are off to the Hospital Wing to check on that idiot… Bruce. Hope he's kicked the bucket," Leon, a senior student, said with a smirk as he and Pister left the greenhouse.
The five friends—Sean, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Justin—bundled up in thick robes and headed back to the castle.
"Merlin's beard, Sean, your transfiguration is unreal!" Ron said, mimicking the shape of a snowman and imagining himself mastering the same spell to land a punch on Malfoy's smug face. He broke into a goofy grin.
"Keep at it, Ron. Your transfiguration's not even at apprentice level yet," Harry teased, bursting Ron's bubble.
Ron's eyes were practically sparkling with excitement. "I'll get there, Harry!"
Nearby, Justin stared at the Canary Cream in his hand, hardly believing it could turn someone into a canary. Sean examined his own cookie, sensing the magical circuits humming inside. It reminded him of his current mission: level up his "living-to-living" transfiguration to the Skilled tier.
Inside the cozy Hut of Hope, Sean waved his wand, and a beetle transformed into an owl in the blink of an eye. It flapped its wings, circled a few times, then turned back into a beetle. By the fireplace, a few heavy robes hung to dry, and the sweet, warm scent of pumpkin pasties filled the air around the armchairs.
Sean overheard Justin telling Hermione about their greenhouse adventure, with Hermione gasping now and then. Harry and Ron chimed in excitedly, adding details. The noise was lively but not annoying—it felt like home.
From this experience, Sean had a better sense of his limits. At his max, he could make a snowman several meters tall move for about five minutes. If he didn't worry about precision and just gave it a simple command, the snowman could be even bigger and last longer.
A snowman's strength was a broad concept. It could be made of loose, fluffy snow or packed, ancient snow as tough as sandstone. That's where the heart of magic came in—it bent to the wizard's will.
Transfiguration, though, was precise and required practice. So far, Sean only had snowmen and fire salamanders under his belt for advanced transfiguration. Maybe it was time to branch out—maybe animate some armor or stone statues.
The fire in the hearth sent warm gusts across the room, rustling the vines and notes on Sean's desk. A page from Professor McGonagall's notes flipped open, landing on a familiar spell: Piertotum Locomotor (Stone Guardians Awake).
[Piertotum Locomotor falls under advanced transfiguration. Its core function is to animate inorganic constructs (like stone statues or metal armor) into combat-ready units. Activated objects can perform physical attacks like slashing or charging during the spell's duration, reverting to their inert state once the protective charm breaks. The spell demands high precision in magical control and requires constant guidance to maintain the animation.]
Reading McGonagall's detailed explanation, Sean felt the spell's complexity sink in. Transfiguring objects into magical constructs followed a clear logic:
- The larger the object, the harder the spell.
- The more complex the object, the tougher the spell.
- The more intricate the command, the trickier the spell.
To pull off something as epic as the transfiguration in the Battle of Hogwarts, Sean had a long way to go.
For now, he needed to head to the Transfiguration office.
In the corridor, snowflakes drifted past the stained-glass windows, making soft, crisp sounds as they fell.
"Oh—little Gryffindor!" The Fat Lady's voice rang out.
Whenever Sean passed by, the Fat Lady loved to gossip about Professor McGonagall, with Violet occasionally tossing in juicy tidbits. Like how McGonagall turned a matchstick into a silver needle in her very first Transfiguration class, or transformed a mouse into a snuffbox in her second.
But as Sean listened, something felt off. He noticed the Fat Lady and Violet staring at him intently.
"You know, little Gryffindor, if someone said you and McGonagall were related, I'd believe it, Merlin's sake…" the Fat Lady said dreamily.
"Shh—don't—you'll ruin it!" Violet hissed, trying to hush her.
"Oh, uh, nothing!" the Fat Lady stammered.
Sean gave her a puzzled look, and she started babbling. "Uh, the weather—yeah, the weather's great today! Nice and sunny!"
"There's no sun today," Violet pointed out quickly.
"Oh! I mean, at least it's not raining…" the Fat Lady fumbled.
"It's sleeting!" Sir Cadogan shouted as he passed by in his portrait.
"You blasted knight!" the Fat Lady snapped, seizing the excuse. The three portrait figures scurried off, leaving Sean blinking in confusion.
Something was definitely up. Professor McGonagall had been acting strange lately. She was always writing, receiving, or sending letters—it was like a daily ritual. Once in a while, Sean caught a glimpse of the signature on them: Roland. The name rang a faint bell, but he couldn't place it. It felt like someone who'd only brushed past his life.
It left him even more confused.
The afternoon corridor was a bit noisy as Sean walked across the carpet toward the Transfiguration office. Suddenly, a wide-faced, big-mouthed figure with bright round eyes popped out of the wall, dressed in colorful clothes with a tie and a hat. It was Peeves, sneakily tugging at the carpet.
Before Sean could say anything, another figure emerged—a Slytherin ghost, gaunt and hollow-eyed, covered in silvery bloodstains. The Bloody Baron.
The Baron glanced at Sean and let out an eerie chuckle.
Peeves yelped, nearly tumbling out of the air. He steadied himself, hovering a foot above the staircase. "Sorry, Bloody Baron, sir, my lord!" he said in a sugary tone. "My fault, all my fault—I didn't see you! Of course I didn't, you were invisible, right? Forgive little Peeves' silly prank, your lordship!"
But Peeves wasn't getting off that easy. The Bloody Baron shot after him.
"I'm done for!" Peeves wailed, his shrieks echoing as he fled.
Every young witch and wizard who saw it burst out laughing. After all this time at Hogwarts, it was rare to see Peeves on the receiving end. Usually, he was the one pranking students. Seeing him get chased had plenty of kids running after them to see what happened next.
Sean watched quietly, almost calling out to the Bloody Baron before realizing the ghost had appeared on his own.
Talk about luck, he thought.
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