Changing the world?
Sean didn't have such grand ambitions just yet, but he was definitely starting to plan something special—baking some unique cookies.
The Animal Cookie Series.
That's what Sean wrote on the first page of his notebook. Combining alchemy with Transfiguration was undeniably fascinating, and the animal cookie series was the big project he was gearing up for.
He could already see two clear paths forward. First, improving the quality—crafting cookies that could give witches and wizards a clear, focused will. Second, increasing the variety by making cookies shaped like other animals.
Since studying Transfiguration would naturally improve the quality of his cookies, Sean's next step was figuring out which animal to tackle next.
Unlock the Skilled Alchemist title in the alchemy domain through the animal cookie series.
That was step two in his plan, scribbled in his notebook.
The Apprentice and Beginner titles didn't offer much of a boost to his golden talents, but reaching the Skilled level would unlock some serious perks. For example:
- In the Charms domain, a talent boost for silent spellcasting.
- In the Transfiguration domain, a talent for advanced transformations from objects to magic.
- In the Flying domain, a talent for short bursts of explosive speed.
These extra boosts had already proven incredibly useful to Sean.
As for the requirements to advance:
Advancement: Create three Beginner-level alchemical items and six Apprentice-level alchemical items to unlock the Beginner Alchemist title.
So far, Sean had mastered three alchemical creations: Howlers, Floating Quills, and Owl Cookies.
Now, he needed to decide on the next animal. They had to be creatures found around Hogwarts Castle for easy observation, and they needed to be practical.
The Screechsnap in its seedling box swayed gently, letting out soft, not-too-annoying creaks. Time slipped by in the quiet rhythm of those sounds.
Noon. The Great Hall.
The enchanted ceiling showed a flurry of snow. Among the branches of a massive holly tree, countless wings flapped—brown, gray, and snowy white feathers mixed with the falling snow. The owl post was arriving.
Sean sat at his usual table, next to Hermione, who had her copy of Important Magical Events of the Twentieth Century propped open on a milk jug. She was frowning, clearly puzzled by something.
Neville, who'd arrived earlier, greeted Sean with a cheerful wave. "The post's almost here! I bet Gran sent me some stuff I forgot to bring," he said excitedly.
Sean had just started on his porridge when a commotion broke out overhead. Hundreds of owls swooped into the Great Hall, circling above and dropping letters and parcels onto the chattering crowd below.
A bulky package landed right on Neville's head, followed by a gray blur that swooped past Hermione's jug, knocking it over and spilling milk everywhere.
With Christmas approaching, young witches and wizards heading home for the holidays always had plenty to say—and so did their families.
Hermione, for instance, was busy scribbling letters. Every now and then, she'd sneak a cautious glance at Sean before continuing to write.
Ever since the troll incident, Sean and Hermione had been talking more, mostly because he'd shared some tips on combining charms. Not just mixing different types of spells, but also Professor Flitwick's theory on casting two spells at once.
For Christmas, Sean was preparing a special gift for Hermione—a notebook filled with these insights.
Then there was Justin. Sean had compiled a collection of recipes from memory, tested them with Ira (a house-elf from the kitchens), and found they turned out pretty well. He'd put them together in a booklet for Justin.
By the time lunch rolled around, Sean hadn't made much progress on his projects despite all his morning hustle. Sometimes he wondered when he'd started needing to prepare so many Christmas gifts. And some of them? He'd have to ask the older students for help since certain items couldn't be found at Hogwarts and required a trip to Hogsmeade.
He also wondered how Bruce was doing. The last time Sean and his friends visited him in the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey had practically chased them out, fuming: "I've never seen such a foolish wizard! Testing a Devil's Snare with his head! And you lot—too foolish to stop this idiot!"
After lunch, Sean headed to the Hospital Wing.
Located on the second floor of the castle and managed by Madam Pomfrey, the Hospital Wing was Hogwarts' go-to spot for basic medical care. Whenever a student or staff member got injured or sick during the school year, this was where they ended up.
Sean thought the Hospital Wing was every bit as impressive as any part of Hogwarts—a legendary place. Its track record included curing a petrified Colin Creevey, healing Harry after his battles with Voldemort, and fixing up Malfoy after a Sectumsempra attack.
The more he thought about it, the more curious Sean became about the so-called healing magic.
When he stepped through the Hospital Wing's doors, Madam Pomfrey's expression was still sour, but this time she didn't kick him out. She grudgingly allowed him to visit.
"Foolish enough to end up on the Hospital Wing's wall of shame—" Sean overheard Leon's voice before he even reached the beds.
Leon was ranting again. "You messed with a Devil's Snare right after tangling with a Screechsnap! What, did you think they'd fight each other? Instead, they both went for you, didn't they? Idiot."
Bruce, clearly worse for wear, could only mumble incoherently. "Mmph—mmph—"
"He says practice makes perfect, Leon," another voice chimed in.
"Mmph!"
"He says Pister's got a point."
"No need for you to translate!" Leon snapped.
The three older students were, as usual, bickering loudly.
"Green?" a voice called out suddenly from the wall. Sean turned to see a large portrait of a witch with long, silver curls. Below it read: Dilys Derwent, St. Mungo's Healer (1722–1741). He'd also seen another inscription in the Headmaster's office: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Headmistress (1741–1768).
"Nice to see you, dear," Dilys Derwent said with a twinkling smile, her eyes glinting with curiosity and mischief. "I hear there's a special story unfolding today."
A special story?
Sean looked at her, intrigued. Dilys shook her head with a smile. "It's a tale with a happy ending—one that makes you stop and think. Fate's like a rushing river. Without islands or reefs to break its flow, it can't create beautiful waves."
Her gaze grew distant, as if peering through swirling snow, past abandoned streets and crumbling houses, through the never-fading London fog, to a place where something great was once born.
"A determined soul," she said softly, "will always carve its own path."