Neville was back.
He stumbled into the Hope Nook early in the morning. Gryffindor actually had no class that morning, but he had still returned at daybreak.
He was holding a brand-new wand, which drew both Sean's and Justin's eyes.
Justin smiled, nodded, and gave Neville a thumbs-up.
He'd already noticed a few clues back in the greenhouse.
It seemed Neville wasn't talentless—his talent simply hadn't been able to show itself.
"G-good morning," Neville murmured, then went off to water and check on his plants.
After a while, he hesitantly walked to the edge of Sean's desk.
The transfigured tabletop slowly withdrew; Sean looked at him calmly.
"S-Sean, I don't dare use it…"
Neville stammered. As soon as he finished, it was as if all his courage drained away; he lowered his head, not daring to look at Sean again.
"When you sprinted out of the Nook, Neville, you were already brave enough. It's fine to go slowly. I hope you always remember: you can be afraid and brave at the same time. People can set out carrying fear," Sean said gently. Neville was brave at heart, but he was undoubtedly the one in the Nook who most needed encouragement. "I mean—would you like to redo your spell proficiency test?"
…
Neville began getting used to his new wand, and his performance surprised everyone—his talent for spells nearly caught up with Harry's.
Sean watched quietly, thinking of Professor Trelawney's prophecy:
"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…"
Two children were implicated—Harry and Neville.
Unexpectedly, both turned out to be natural counters to Voldemort.
A prophecy worthy of magic.
Then Sean stepped out.
It was Monday. Ravenclaw had a double block of Potions in the morning and History of Magic in the afternoon.
"History" class was "history" in name only—it was more like a Ravenclaw book club. The Green Notes series had never stopped updating and, thanks to the vastness of magic, had spawned several versions (really it was just that the notes were too scattered and Sean had no time to organize them, so Justin recopied them)—like A Compendium of the Middle Ages, Exploring the Age of the Great Wizard Merlin, and so on.
The first-years didn't each buy a massive tome; they each bought one volume and read together.
Professor Binns didn't mind the hubbub. In fact, he seemed pleased by the sharper quality of their homework.
No one knew what a ghost had to be "pleased" about—but in fact the workload had returned to normal, as if we'd just been annoying him into confusion before.
Now Sean and Justin had to go to Potions.
Harry and Ron, relieved, curled up by the hearth in an armchair, reading Flying With the Cannon for the third time.
If they'd had to go to Potions the moment Christmas ended, Harry and Ron might have preferred facing a troll.
They weren't playing chess.
Their Oddball Wizard Chess sets were asleep.
Yes—some pieces in Oddball Wizard Chess even have their own schedules—making the first-years feel like they were truly commanding an army.
Luckily they didn't need to eat… they just liked falling in love with the enemy queens on the battlefield.
Hermione sat nearby, eyeing the two of them sternly.
"I think even if you don't want to study Potions, you could do something more creative."
"Like what?" asked Harry, while watching the Cannons' Joé Jenkins hammer a Bludger at a Ballycastle Bats chaser—clearly not listening.
To this day, Harry and Ron kept a sliver of doubt about Sean's decision; after all, Professor Snape really didn't seem like a good person.
He'd even make up a rule to confiscate Harry's book.
But because they trusted Sean, they weren't quite so suspicious of Snape anymore. The flip side, however, was a fear of the unknown enemy. So they desperately wanted to do something to avoid the fear—even if it was only playing chess.
Unlike the warmth of the Hope Nook, rain and snow hissed along the corridors outside, making them cold as well.
A postcard rested lightly on Justin's Potions text, showing the McGonagall family cottage—one of the many photos Marcus McGonagall had sent Sean, which Sean had just given to Justin.
Potions ended in its usual storm and thunder.
As soon as class was dismissed, Sean went to look for Mrs. Norris. Once he knew enough about a Kneazle, his Magical-Creature Biscuit series would finally see success again.
He was very curious—would this count as a high-tier alchemical construct?
After all—
[Six Expert mid-tier alchemical constructs, twelve Adept alchemical constructs unlock the Alchemy—Expert Domain Title]
A new title would bring stronger aptitudes.
He'd already felt the edge given by special ritual perception. And for someone like him to design a brand-new alchemical ritual and pull it off in one go—
He dared to dream: perhaps he truly might stand alongside Master Nicolas Flamel.
January came, and Hogwarts slid into a colder, damper season.
In a cold, damp January, the last thing anyone wants is two hours out on the grounds—except the Nook members, because Sean's fire lizards would burn up a big bonfire, from which, after a while, more fire lizards would come scurrying.
Harry and Ron gathered twigs and leaves to keep the flames going; the flame-loving lizards darted through the crackling logs.
But for the past week, Sean had often vanished—and for very long stretches.
Several first-years said they'd seen the legendary Lucky Black Cat.
Corridor.
It took Sean a week to raise Mrs. Norris's affinity to "ten points short."
There was always a draft here, but cats have fur to ward it off—though not for long.
So Mrs. Norris wore clothes.
Two cats streaked over the long stone floor. After a few of the professor's demonstrations, Sean had much greater control of his own Animagus.
The black cat's speed was just about keeping up with Mrs. Norris. She had put on a little weight lately; her biggest daily job was prowling the castle and nabbing those who dared night-wander.
Because Oddball Wizard Chess and transformation biscuits had become widespread, a small number of first-years had taken the bold step of night-wandering in animal form.
But they had no will of their own; Mrs. Norris usually delivered them straight to the caretaker's office.
Sean knew exactly what they looked like when they woke up.
Probably about the same as Harry waking to find Professor Snape at his bedside.
~~~
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