For days, Dumbledore had hoped to see a certain young wizard in front of the Mirror of Erised.
But as he'd said, the past was just a weightless ghost.
Tonight, Dumbledore stood beside the mirror, watching a reluctant Harry linger in front of it.
"Tomorrow, the mirror will be moved to a new place, Harry. Please don't go looking for it. If you ever come across it again, be prepared. Dwelling on dreams and forgetting to live is no good at all. Now, why not put on that marvelous Invisibility Cloak and head to bed?"
Harry stood up.
"Sir—Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?"
"Obviously, you just did," Dumbledore said with a smile. "But go ahead, ask me one more."
"What do you see when you look in the mirror?"
"Me? I see myself holding a pair of thick wool socks."
Harry's eyes widened.
"You can never have enough socks," Dumbledore continued. "Christmas comes and goes, and I got a few pairs—much appreciated. But people always seem to give me books."
Harry sensed something was off but didn't press. He headed back to bed.
By now, the Christmas holidays had stretched on for five days.
Sean tracked down Professor Trelawney, who was genuinely intrigued by his Transfiguration project.
They worked through countless approaches and experiments, but the results were lackluster. Still, Trelawney didn't seem the least bit discouraged—she was almost gleeful, joining Sean in failure after failure.
"You've put so much effort into such a profound field, just like the alchemists of old," she said meaningfully. "Now you see why they hit dead ends. I want you to look at it from a different perspective."
As she spoke, the floor of the Alchemy classroom rippled like waves, and Sean found himself swiftly ushered out.
The undulating floor felt oddly like a conveyor belt with no steps.
So, what did she mean by a different perspective?
Sean was stumped, but he wasn't in a rush.
Runes and material issues weren't a problem with Trelawney's vast knowledge—she could solve those in no time.
But if materials and runes were so easy for a master like her, the real challenges had to be something far tougher.
Those stubborn obstacles were what kept wizards from diving deeper into magical creature transformations.
And without resolving those magical conflicts, crafting magical creature cookies was impossible.
Back in the common room...
The biting wind that kept tugging Sean's scarf finally died down. His scarf was damp with water stains, and the tiny snowflakes on his face melted into droplets.
Suddenly, a big head popped out of the fireplace.
It was Justin, grinning and waving at Sean.
"Did you get my letter? You promised to write back, Sean!"
No sooner had he spoken than he let out a yelp—his own letter had arrived.
There was something special about handwritten letters. The feel of parchment under your fingertips, the crinkle as you opened the package—it was like stepping through time.
A few gold-embossed books slid out from the left bookshelf. Sean swapped his snow-dampened scarf for a new one and turned his attention to the five books Trelawney had assigned, especially A Deep Analysis of Alchemical Rituals. He'd only read it once.
Justin's letter sat on the desk, the breeze flipping it open to reveal some scribbled words:
[To Sean:
The Christmas feast was a blast. My mom wanted you to know—there's always a spot for a Green at the Finch-Fletchley table.
She says:
The world's full of all sorts of people,
And somehow, we ended up friends.
It's not fate—
It's because we were meant to be friends.
Winter's cold, so stay extra warm.
—Your loyal friend, Justin]
The magical lantern flickered on, signaling the common room had shifted to nighttime.
Sean had a vague feeling that magical creature cookies were just too tough.
Even Trelawney had flat-out said there was no solution for now.
So, he turned his focus to crafting a Wizard's Chess set.
Transfiguration cookies were straightforward advanced Transfiguration—living thing to living thing.
Wizard's Chess was also advanced Transfiguration, turning objects into magical creations. But there was a twist: each chess piece had its own personality and could interact with the player.
That cranked up the alchemical difficulty.
After some steady work, Sean carried a chessboard into the Alchemy classroom.
"Quit staring, heretic! I'll burn you at the stake!" a white bishop piece shouted, draped in robes like some ancient cardinal.
Its outburst irritated a senior student who'd just been scolded. He turned, ready to snap, but deflated when he saw Sean already apologizing profusely.
"Filthy dark wizard, taste my blade!" a knight piece roared, hurling its sword.
Thankfully, Sean's silent Levitation Charm stopped it mid-air.
To keep the rowdy chess pieces from causing more chaos, Sean slipped into the Alchemy classroom.
"Oh, child, you're here. How's the Wizard's Chess coming along?" Trelawney asked, scribbling something without looking up.
"What a lovely lady—please, you must attend my castle banquet…" the king piece crooned. No sooner had it spoken than the queen piece snatched a sword from the knight and furiously stabbed the king.
Sean sighed. These pieces were a bit too spirited.
If young wizards played with a set like this, the match might end before it even started—their own king would keel over first.
"Aren't these pieces fascinating?" Trelawney said, her eyes sparkling with admiration. "Their chaos shows how strong your will is, child. When you craft alchemical creations, your magic flows into them.
And magic is the essence of a wizard's will. A wizard with the kind of powerful will alchemists dream of is bound to stir up a storm.
But take it one step at a time, child."
Trelawney took the chessboard, her fingers twitching with some spell that froze the pieces in place, silencing them.
Sean knew exactly what she meant—his panel made it clear:
[Mrs. Norris Cookie: Beginner (700/900)]
[Owl Cookie: Beginner (10/900)]
[Stag Cookie: Beginner (10/900)]
[Rooster Cookie: Beginner (10/900)]
[Mid-tier Wizard's Chess: Apprentice (10/300)]
[Three proficient mid-tier alchemical creations, six beginner alchemical creations—unlock Proficient title in Alchemy?]
He wasn't failing because his methods or talent were lacking.
Magical creature cookies were just too darn hard.