Early that morning, Sean rode his Laid-Back Broom into Hope Cottage, still mulling over his next mid-tier alchemy project.
That's when Ron showed up, cradling a chessboard. He and Harry were always sneaking off for private matches. It never actually helped them win more games, but they never got tired of it.
"I keep feeling like someone's watching us. You feel that too, Harry?"
Ron glanced around the cottage, scratching his head in confusion.
"Lars Schneider is solid—"
Harry was deep in thought, studying the pieces' personalities. The second the game started and the board turned into a battlefield, something inside him just clicked. He could adapt on the fly like nobody's business. His win count was catching up to Ron's fast—he was already one of the best kid players around.
While they whispered strategy, Sean suddenly had an idea. He faded into view right behind them, but Harry and Ron were too wrapped up in their debate to notice.
Pretty soon, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes had a new product: Quirky Wizard Chess.
It followed regular wizard-chess rules, but the pieces? Total wild cards.
Take Knight Lars Schneider—let him charge straight ahead three moves, and he'd magically get a bonus step. Make him retreat, though, and he'd throw a tantrum and do all kinds of annoying stuff.
Then there was Knight Fredrick Santiago, a brave but brainless guy. Sometimes he'd pull off an extra move and flip the game; other times he'd charge right into the enemy's blade and hand them his head on a platter.
These throw-together alchemy creations didn't just level up Sean's skill at shaping item "souls"—they gave him the final puzzle piece to hit Proficient rank:
- Mid-Tier · Quirky Wizard Chess: Beginner (19/300)
- Mid-Tier · Wizard Chess: Beginner (119/300)
- Mid-Tier · Laid-Back Broom: Beginner (100/300)
All he had to do now was grind the hours.
So Sean dove back into the work.
Meanwhile, the Great Hall turned into pure chaos. Someone had mail-ordered the first Quirky set, and before long the whole castle was hooked. Kids were buying multiples just to collect all twelve unique knights.
The star? Knight Gendoka. In a pinch, that guy could smash two enemy pieces in one turn.
Students were losing their minds: "This thing is way too broken!"
Didn't stop them from hunting the set, though.
Too bad Gendoka only showed up in, like, one out of every three hundred boards.
"Great Galloping Gargoyles, we're being generous," the twins insisted. "At least we let him exist! One in three hundred—that's practically charity! Some shady shops wouldn't even include a rare like that—"
"They only roll him out when business is slow," Fred chimed in. "Like wizard lottery—keep the suckers buying, nobody wins. Sales drop? Boom, jackpot. Suddenly the galleons flow again!"
Sean couldn't help but wonder if the Weasleys winning the lottery had been pure luck after all.
Weasleys & Green's Joke Shop was booming before it even opened—pre-orders were through the roof. Fred and George bolted out of the castle every morning, claiming, "We wake up to the sweet sound of galleons hitting the till."
Christmas came and went.
On the last day of break, Sean tracked down Professor Tyra. He'd finished her books; today was results day.
Inside the alchemy office, Professor Tyra lounged in a chair that kept shifting shapes.
A quiet holiday—no clumsy apprentice essays or homework to grade. The woman actually looked relaxed.
"Quirky Wizard Chess? Nice little experiment," she teased.
It was a short quiz, mostly written. While Sean scribbled away, Tyra tossed in extra tidbits—stuff he hadn't seen in practice yet.
When he left, his notebook was stuffed with new notes. She told him to come back tomorrow for the score.
Sean practically skipped out. Tyra watched the parchment with a fond smile. She'd give him 105/100—five extra points just to see her favorite student puff up with pride.
Then a paper airplane zipped straight through the wall and landed in her hand.
Her eyes sharpened.
"Caught a glimpse of my ritual work and still dares to poke around? Which rat-infested corner did this idiot crawl out of?
If the vast ocean of magic birthed a wizarding world this rotten—with its smug pure-blood nonsense—"
Her voice dropped, half-mutter, half-decree:
"Send the Vagado crew. We're going to have a chat."
The paper airplane shot back through the wall.
The office's magic radio kept blaring:
> "The British Ministry of Magic reminds all citizens: unauthorized nighttime gatherings will face strict scrutiny—"
"Scrutiny," Tyra snorted. "Ministry rules."
Night fell deep.
On the final night of Christmas, Sean hit the last six proficiency points.
> You practiced crafting Quirky Wizard Chess at Beginner level. +3 proficiency.
> You practiced crafting Quirky Wizard Chess at Beginner level. +3 proficiency.
> New alchemy title unlocked—check it out.
Sean rubbed his temples. Ever since the Mirror of Erised, he'd poured extra hours into Transfiguration—more than any other subject. The exhaustion was piling up fast.
Balancing alchemy and transfiguration took a brutal toll on a wizard's mind.
But the payoff finally rolled in.
Title: Mid-Tier Alchemist
Greatly boosts alchemy perception and talent; slightly improves ritual control.
Ritual control?
Sean tapped his bookshelf. It spat out a tome: Deep Analysis of Alchemical Rituals—the final book in Tyra's five-volume series. It traced the history of rituals, plus her own notes and experiments.
For Quirky Wizard Chess, Sean had straight-up copied her ritual style.