Neville was back.
He stumbled into Hope Cottage first thing in the morning, even though Gryffindor had no classes that day. He'd been up at the crack of dawn.
In his hand was a brand-new wand, and both Sean and Justin's eyes snapped to it.
Justin grinned and gave Neville a big thumbs-up.
He'd noticed the signs back in the greenhouses.
Neville wasn't untalented. His gift just… couldn't show itself.
"M-morning," Neville mumbled.
Then he went straight to watering and checking on his plants.
It took him a while to shuffle over to Sean's desk, hesitant.
The transfigured wooden panel covering the table slowly retracted. Sean looked at him calmly.
"S-Sean… I'm scared to use it…"
Neville's voice cracked. As soon as the words were out, his courage seemed to vanish. He stared at the floor.
"When you bolted out of the cottage, Neville, that was brave. It's okay to go slow. I hope you always remember: you can be scared and brave. People with fear can still move forward."
Sean's voice was gentle. Neville was brave at his core, but he was definitely the little wizard in the cottage who needed the most encouragement.
"I mean… do you want to redo the charm proficiency test?"
…
Neville did start getting used to his new wand, and his performance shocked everyone. His charm talent nearly matched Harry's.
Sean watched quietly, remembering Professor Trelawney's prophecy from Divination:
The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him… born as the seventh month dies…
The prophecy pointed to two boys: Harry and Neville.
And weirdly, both had a special edge against Voldemort.
Magic, huh?
Then Sean headed out.
It was Monday. Ravenclaw had double Potions in the morning, History of Magic in the afternoon.
"History of Magic" was more like a Ravenclaw book club. The Green Notes series never stopped updating, and because magic is huge, it had spawned several editions. (Really, the notes were just a mess. Sean didn't have time to organize, so Justin cleaned them up.) There was Medieval Compendium, Exploring the Age of the Legendary Wizard Merlin, and more.
The little wizards didn't buy the whole set; they each got one volume and passed them around.
Professor Binns didn't mind the chatter. He was just happy the homework quality had improved.
Though no one knew if a ghost could feel satisfaction. Still, the workload went back to normal, like the students had finally stopped driving him up the wall.
Now Sean and Justin had to head to Potions.
Harry and Ron were sprawled by the fire in armchairs, reading Flying with the Cannons for the third time.
If they'd had Potions right after Christmas break, they'd rather face a troll.
They weren't playing chess.
Their quirky wizard's chess sets were asleep.
Yup, some pieces even had sleep schedules. Made the kids feel like they were commanding a real army.
Good thing they didn't need food… just had a habit of falling in love with the enemy queen mid-battle.
Hermione was staring at them with a serious look.
"I think even if you don't want to study Potions, you could do something more creative."
"Like what?" Harry asked, eyes glued to Joey Jenkins of the Cannons blasting a Bludger at a Ballycastle Bats Chaser.
Clearly not listening.
Harry and Ron still had a tiny doubt about Sean's call, especially since Professor Snape really didn't seem like a good guy.
He'd even made up a rule to confiscate Harry's book.
But because they trusted Sean, they weren't as suspicious of Snape anymore. Instead, fear of the unknown enemy crept in. So they desperately wanted to do something to escape it, even if it was just playing wizard's chess.
Unlike the warm cottage, the corridors outside were snowy and freezing.
A postcard rested lightly on Justin's Potions book, a photo of the McGonagall family's little villa. One of many Marcus McGonagall had sent Sean. Sean had passed it to Justin.
Potions class ended in the usual storm of chaos.
As soon as it was over, Sean went looking for Mrs. Norris. Once he mastered "cat speak," his magical animal biscuit series would finally see long-overdue success.
Now he was dying to know: would this be an advanced alchemical creation?
After all,
[Six expert-level intermediate alchemical creations and twelve skilled-level ones will unlock the Expert Alchemist title]
A new title would bring stronger innate talent.
He'd already felt the edge from his special ritual perception. The fact that he could design a brand-new alchemical ritual and nail it on the first try?
He dared to dream: maybe he really could rival Master Nicolas Flamel.
January rolled in, and Hogwarts sank into a colder, damper season.
In bleak, soggy January, the last thing anyone wanted was two hours on the grounds. But the Hope Cottage crew didn't mind. Sean's fire salamanders kept a roaring bonfire going, and every so often another one would pop out of the flames.
Harry and Ron gathered firewood and leaves to keep the blaze alive. The flame-loving lizards darted through the crackling logs.
But this week, Sean kept disappearing, for hours at a time.
A few young wizards mentioned seeing the legendary lucky black cat.
Corridor.
It took Sean a full week to get Mrs. Norris's affinity up to just ten points short.
The corridors were always drafty, but cats had fur to fend off the cold, at least for a while.
So Mrs. Norris was wearing clothes.
Two cats raced across the long stone floor. After some pointers from Professor McGonagall, Sean's control over his Animagus form had leveled up.
The black cat could now just keep pace with Mrs. Norris. She'd put on a little weight lately. Her main job? Patrolling the castle, nabbing night-wandering students.
Thanks to the spread of quirky wizard's chess and transfiguration biscuits, a small group of bold kids had started night-walking with the biscuits.
But they didn't have full control, so Mrs. Norris usually dragged them straight to the caretaker's office.
Sean knew exactly what they looked like when they woke up.
Probably like Harry waking up to find Snape standing over his bed.