Transfiguration classroom.
A few teaching mice squeaked softly in their cages.
Neville raised his hand.
"Professor, I—I—"
Neville stammered, clutching his robes and glancing sideways in panic.
"Neville, go ahead," Sean said from beside him.
Neville had been searching for his permission form for days. Sean already knew why: Neville's grandmother, Augusta Longbottom, had sent it straight to Professor McGonagall herself.
Grandma Augusta was thoughtful. She didn't trust Neville not to lose it.
After all, the poor kid had been hit with one too many Memory Charms.
But…
Neville had been a nervous wreck all week.
"My grandmother… she sent it to you… Professor…"
Neville kept his eyes fixed on Sean, too scared to look at McGonagall.
"Yes, your grandmother mailed it directly to me, Longbottom," McGonagall said. Her usually stern face softened a fraction. "She said next time you'll have to send it yourself."
"Oh… I will…"
Neville's face turned beet red as he lowered his hand.
He glanced down and saw Hermione secretly pumping her fist at him, Ron staring in happy surprise, and Sean giving him a small, encouraging nod.
All the panic melted away in an instant.
His cheeks burned, but he broke into a silly grin.
"That's more like it."
Hermione huffed. She and the others had spent days trying to get Neville to open his magical mirror, and the whole time he'd been terrified he'd lost the form and too scared to ask.
"My mother says taking responsibility for yourself is the first step," Justin's voice floated out of the mirror.
Thanks to the mirror's special design, only the intended listener could hear it. A few students used them quietly during class, but they were careful.
McGonagall let it slide. Occasional whispered conversations were better than constant classroom chatter.
"All right, everyone else hand yours in," McGonagall announced.
The Ravenclaws filed out noisily while the Gryffindors formed an eager line, chattering about everything they planned to do in Hogsmeade.
Strangely, tucked among the sea of red-and-gold scarves was one small wizard wearing blue-and-bronze.
"You're turning yours in to Professor McGonagall too?" Hermione leaned close, confused.
"Sean, did you—you switched to Gryffindor? Can you even do that?!" Ron's eyes widened in pure delight.
"There has never—been such—a case—" Hermione shot Ron a glare. He was already lost in fantasy.
If Sean were in Gryffindor…
Oh!
Gryffindor could win a few more Quidditch Cups…
"But—Professor—you know I really want to go—my parents—they don't understand what Hogsmeade means—you can't—"
A desperate voice rose ahead of them. A tall wizard had burst in from the corridor, looking frantic.
"If you'd just say I can go—"
McGonagall stood, neatly tucking her notes into the drawer.
"I will not say it. The form is quite clear: it must be signed by a parent or guardian. If you wish to visit, have your parents or guardian sign it and return it to me."
She gave the wizard a cold look. He left with a miserable expression.
The moment he was gone, Hermione's eyes narrowed on Sean's form.
A letter was still attached.
[Dear Mr. Green:
Please note that the new term begins September first…]
Not that one. Hermione scanned lower.
[The Hogwarts Express will depart King's Cross Platform Nine at eleven o'clock. If you wish to spend the final week of summer at the farm, please contact me in person.]
The farm? Why would Sean be going to a farm? And why contact McGonagall?
Dozens of little clues flashed through Hermione's mind but refused to connect.
[It is my pleasure to inform you, dear Mr. Green, that third-year students are permitted to visit Hogsmeade village on certain weekends.
Please give the attached permission form to…]
Hermione squinted, trying to read the crucial line.
Too bad Sean's finger was covering the signature.
"Who's it to…" she heard someone mutter behind her.
She turned. Ron was staring in shock and worry.
They locked eyes, both wearing the same stunned expression.
"What are you doing?" they hissed at the same time.
The young wizard at the front of the line, quietly reading, seemed mildly annoyed. He tilted his head and saw Hermione and Ron glaring at each other again.
"You saw…" Hermione clapped a hand over Ron's mouth, then narrowed her eyes. "What did you see?"
"I didn't see anything—the signature's missing," Ron whispered, forgetting they were still fighting.
"No signature?!" Hermione froze.
"Yeah… I guess even McGonagall plays favorites. She's letting Sean turn in an unsigned form," Ron muttered.
Hermione opened her mouth, then stared at him like he was an idiot.
"Then why didn't Sean give it to Professor Flitwick?"
"You mean…"
Ron blinked.
"Flitwick isn't Deputy Headmistress so he can't sign?!"
Ron's eyes lit up with sudden understanding.
Hogwarts had rules.
"You…"
Hermione paused, then gave a slow nod.
Was that it?
Up front, McGonagall had already collected the forms. She spoke gently.
"Go on."
Sean nodded.
"And…"
McGonagall put her notes away and leaned closer. Hermione had never seen the professor look quite like this.
She tugged Ron's sleeve so they could both watch the tall witch and the small wizard.
"Stay safe. If anything happens, contact us immediately."
McGonagall's brow furrowed at the memory of the escaped convict.
"I understand, Professor."
McGonagall gave a satisfied nod. After taking the last two forms from Hermione and Ron, she left the classroom with Sean.
The rest of the students poured out, leaving only Hermione and Ron standing in the empty room, deep in thought.
They had completely forgotten their earlier fight. They stood shoulder to shoulder, puzzling it out.
"I've got it—" Ron suddenly sat bolt upright.