Diagon Alley doesn't dim its lights just because Sean's pockets are empty, but a bustling Diagon Alley can sure fix an empty pocket.
Number 93, Diagon Alley.
"Quick, take these Galleons. The enchanted ledger will log it. Oh, and if you want to see your shopkeeper witch next time instead of Shopkeeper Biscuit, finish the batch on time. The owl will find you."
The moment Manager Gret saw Sean, her beaming face froze, only melting into a full grin when she spotted the biscuit tin in his hands.
She accepted the Animal Party series biscuits with a respectful bow, then ushered Sean out the back door.
Why the back?
Because the front was packed.
Wizards in every color of robe were shouting over each other, animals hopping everywhere; there wasn't a spare inch of cobblestone.
While cashing in his Galleons, Sean realized a problem: he'd run out of Undetectable Extension Bags.
So he could only pocket a tiny fraction, less than a tenth of his earnings.
Professor McGonagall was still chatting with the impeccably coiffed blonde witch at Twilfitt and Tatting's.
The shop owner was a smooth talker; she always coaxed a gentle smile onto the professor's face.
Diagon Alley was still shoulder-to-shoulder. From a shadowy shop, Sean heard a low, soft hooting. He looked up: Eeylops Owl Emporium, Gray Owls, Horned Owls, Grass Owls, Brown Owls, Snowy Owls.
As he passed, a few boys his age had their noses pressed to the next window, staring at broomsticks.
"Look!" one said. "That's the new Nimbus 2000, fastest ever!"
Sean kept walking, past the second-hand robe shop, the telescope and odd silver instrument shop.
Its window was crammed with baskets of bat spleens and eels' eyes, stacks of spellbooks, quills, rolls of parchment, potion bottles, moon globes,
"Marcus wants me to ask," McGonagall said softly outside the shop, holding Sean's hand, "if you'll have time to come back to, family, over the summer."
Sean thought of the three little McGonagalls tumbling in a heap at the door.
On cold winter nights, the McGonagalls curled by the crackling fire, munching sweet roasted sweet potatoes, waiting to pounce on Sarah-the-cat.
Marcus and McGonagall watched with amusement, then glanced at the snowstorm outside and sipped their long-steeped maté.
In winter, people feel closer.
Snowflakes drifted, pulling time back to the present. Sean looked at the Portkey glove in his hand and nodded quietly.
So he and the professor returned to Hogwarts.
The Black Lake was still iced over; the snowy fields were always full of snowball-fighting wizards.
When Sean got back to Hope Cottage, he found a new bag in his pack, a green gemstone pendant glinting on the drawstring.
A note inside unfolded itself into his hand:
[You are not alone, child.]
The fire roared warmly, burning long, until Sean pulled out a sleek, gleaming broom.
Nimbus 2000.
Giving an object magical "life" is basic alchemy.
Even after generations of flying brooms, they still follow the same rules. But now, Sean wanted the broom to have will.
If the broom could navigate on its own, he could free up his hands.
Practice flew by. In just one day, Sean had results.
He used the same method as wizard's chess: under the broom's magical structure, he layered in transfiguration elements.
Worth noting: brooms have strict secrecy charms, a kind of Confundus Charm, so regular wizards can't sense the details.
Outside the castle, Sean tested the new spell array: Pathfinding Charm, Disillusionment Charm, Muffliato, and basic evasion instinct.
No hesitation. He mounted the broom.
No panel warning, so something was still off, but where?
He found out fast. As he passed the castle, Nearly Headless Nick bellowed:
"Only a head, Sean Green?!"
Imagining the Disillusionment Charm failing and just his head floating in the air, Sean quickly tweaked the rune array.
[You practiced crafting a Leisure Broom to apprentice standards. Proficiency +1]
Leisure Broom, that's what Sean named his upgraded version. He'd already written to Manager Gret to send him a beat-up old broom so he could grind proficiency on something inconspicuous.
The panel had updated:
- Mrs. Norris Biscuits: Skilled (10/900)
- Owl Biscuits: Beginner (10/300)
- Elk Biscuits: Beginner (1/300)
- Intermediate · Wizard's Chess: Apprentice (29/30)
- Intermediate · Leisure Broom: Apprentice (1/30)
- [Three skilled-level intermediate alchemical creations and six beginner-level ones will unlock the Skilled Alchemist title]
From then on, Sean focused on grinding the two intermediate alchemical projects.
He flew the broom past the Great Hall, unnoticed; the Disillusionment and Muffliato worked perfectly.
But inside the Hall? Chaos.
Ever since the weird wizard's chess sets appeared, the young witches and wizards were obsessed with the unpredictable, infuriating pieces.
No one knew if a piece would charge bravely or stab you in the back.
But slowly, they learned each piece's personality.
Take Knight Lars Schneider. A hero complex. Tell him to retreat and his whole worldview collapses; he'll do wild things, like fall in love with the enemy queen or claim he ate too much yesterday and refuse to move.
Or King Henry. A total flirt. Blindfold him and he stops causing drama. Or if you're a pretty witch, his fighting spirit spikes, but watch out for Queen Jana. She's got iron morals. If she catches the king's antics, she'll kill him.
Same board, but with strong personalities? The kids were having the time of their lives.
Sean watched for a bit as the students debated tactics around each piece's quirks.
They're not actually going to raise a bunch of little Sun Tzus, are they? he thought, amused.