"Longbottom…"
Sean murmured to himself.
"Means 'forever at the bottom.' But even ordinary, average folks can do something great once in a while."
His eyes flashed with light, and Professor McGonagall couldn't look away for a moment.
Then she stormed into the corridor, voice crackling:
"Mister Malfoy, Mister Crabbe, Mister Goyle—you'd better have a good explanation!"
…
Sean "bumped into" Neville around the corner.
The kid was staring at his dad's old wand, half in shock at what he'd just done, half in tears of joy.
A handkerchief appeared beside him. Sean hugged his books like he was just passing by.
"I think… he'd be proud of you."
Mid-January, everyone noticed the change in Neville. Still stammered, sure—but nobody worked harder at Defense Against the Dark Arts.
The day after Malfoy's crew got detention, the Quidditch pitch was still soaked in cold rain.
Under a tall fir tree, Sean waved his wand and turned piles of snow into tiny snowmen. They brandished twig swords and battled it out. A soft chime rang in his head:
> [You practiced advanced Transfiguration at Expert level. Proficiency +1000]
Thanks to McGonagall's notes, Sean's Transfiguration kept climbing. He could now use five elements:
Fire, snow, water, stone, and mud.
He was only solid with fire and snow, but it gave him way more tricks up his sleeve.
A few minutes later, tired, he pulled out a potion vial and turned the flame in a jar into a tiny fire-salamander.
The salamander hugged the vial. Seconds later the potion was warm. Sean drank it and watched the Gryffindor team practice, just like the other lions who'd come to cheer.
But his eyes kept drifting to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Weird noises kept drifting out.
The air was damp and freezing.
The mountains around the school were gray and iced over.
A few minutes later, Sean perked up. He spotted a giant moving like a walking hill.
The giant was wrapped in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit-fur mittens, and massive beaver-skin boots, stomping through the mud.
Sean tucked away Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, but Hagrid's eyes lit up and he lumbered right over.
"Oh, Sean Green! Great to see you out here, kid."
Sean blinked. He didn't remember ever meeting Hagrid.
"Name's Rubeus Hagrid. Groundskeeper and Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts. Professor McGonagall's mentioned you a bunch. Hope I didn't scare ya."
Hagrid's hands had been in his pockets; now he pulled them out and didn't know where to put them.
Sean shook his head—no scare. He got it now: McGonagall and Hagrid were tight. He remembered Halloween night—Hagrid, drunk, had even tried to kiss her.
"Rock cake?" Hagrid offered. "Shame you're not at the hut—they're best fresh."
He looked awkward, but the second he pulled out the rock cakes, confidence kicked in.
"Sure."
Sean took one, then handed over a fancy box labeled [Animal Party Full Series].
It was huge, but looked tiny in Hagrid's hands.
"Oh—oh! This is…"
His eyes went wide as saucers.
Sean had underestimated how crazy the Animal Party cookies were selling—especially since he barely made any and kept his focus elsewhere. They were sold out at Weasleys & Green's.
Wizards were rioting outside the Diagon Alley shop:
> "No Kneazle Cookies? My house is overrun with rats!"
Under the fir tree, Hagrid recognized the full set instantly. Rare stuff. By the time he'd heard about it and got to Diagon Alley—sold out.
As groundskeeper, he couldn't leave Hogwarts long. He'd been dying to try turning into an animal, but no luck.
Now a whole series was in his hands.
"This is too much!"
He tried to give it back, but couldn't let go.
Anyone would laugh—giant man, looking clumsy and torn.
"Hope you like it. I've got more."
"Oh! You must've waited in line forever!"
Hagrid was touched.
Sean didn't know whether to nod or shake his head. He had waited in line once—with McGonagall—but not for cookies.
"Want to try one? You lose consciousness in animal form. I can watch your stuff."
Sean tossed out the idea. It was genuine… mostly.
"Course! Thrilled to run into you, Mr. Green! In return, take as many rock cakes as you want—no limit!"
Hagrid beamed like a three-meter-tall kid and dragged Sean toward the forest edge.
Sean walked beside him—well, not really beside. He barely reached Hagrid's belly.
Looking up, he couldn't even see the guy's chin.
They crunched through snow to a pumpkin patch. Next to it: a little wooden hut.
Just outside the castle, on the edge of the Forbidden Forest—Hagrid's home as groundskeeper.
Also known as Hagrid's Hut.
One room. Hams and pheasants hung from the ceiling. A copper kettle boiled over the fire. A huge wooden table and chairs sat in front, a big bed in the corner with a patchwork quilt. Fang, food supplies, and random junk were stuffed everywhere.
Step one of the plan: done.
Now just keep in touch with Hagrid and wait for the Norwegian Ridgeback.
By the fire, Sean almost summoned a fire-salamander to warm up—or yanked a chunk of flame straight from the hearth.
He stopped himself. Watched Hagrid hum a tune while packing rock cakes for him.
Soon Hagrid popped a Kneazle Cookie in his mouth.
Sean thought: Hagrid really does trust easy. First meeting, and he's already brought him home, ready to hand over his defenseless animal self.
Hagrid thought: McGonagall's generous kid gave me the cookies I've been dreaming of, isn't scared of me, and came right in.
Both a little mistaken about the other.
Two minutes passed. Hagrid checked his hands. Checked his feet.
…Still nothing.