Professor Snape's hatred for Quirrell was obvious. Ever since they'd returned from Spinner's End, he'd been itching to find the man again.
"If I were you, after doing something that vile, I'd drag myself as far away as possible."
He finished coldly, shot Quirrell a look like he was already a corpse, and strode into the shop.
There were plenty of spells that could make a wizard vanish without a sound—and he happened to excel at those…
Quirrell's face went a little pale. This was a threat from a top-tier wizard. He glanced toward the young wizard standing outside the shop, and the dazed look in his eyes gradually hardened.
He couldn't die yet. His life no longer belonged only to himself.
After Professor Snape stormed into the shop, Sean drifted in behind. To his surprise, he spotted Professor Tayra. She was very cheerfully buying up all the Chocolate Frogs.
This left Ron and Harry in the queue staring in disbelief.
"I hope she pulls a rare Cornelius Agrippa," Ron muttered. That card used to be the rarest—up until last month.
Now, if you drew Cornelius Agrippa, you couldn't even say whether that meant you were lucky or not.
Because witches' and wizards' priorities had quietly shifted.
"Let's go get some raspberry ice cream," Harry suggested, noticing Ron's slump.
"Professor," Sean said softly from the back of the crowd.
"Oh, I'm very glad to see you, my dear disciple. Before Abigail finishes picking out Fairy Tale Cookies, let's take a look at these marvelous Chocolate Frogs."
Professor Tayra snapped her fingers. Every Chocolate Frog box popped open at once, cards rising into the air.
They hovered, circling around her head; then with a flick of her fingers, one "Hermes" card flew out.
"An invitation—seems my luck isn't bad. I thought I'd used it all up the day I met you…"
The corners of her lips curled up. She slid the invitation into Sean's hand.
Outside, the crowd was in an uproar, staring wide-eyed at the card in Sean's fingers.
"Sir, I'll pay a hundred Galleons for that invitation in your hand!" a sharp-eyed businessman shouted, rushing over.
"Don't listen to him, sir—I'll add thirty!"
Others woke up fast.
Reporters snapped frantically, but only managed to capture Sean shaking his head and walking into the shop.
"It's Sean! He's here too! He got an invitation!"
Harry sounded honestly thrilled, excited by his friend's luck.
"Ah—Sean got one, Sean got one—seriously—"
Ron's voice was deflated; missing out on the invitation left him deeply frustrated.
So the organizer had jumped into the game personally… then what did all their queuing even mean?
Apparently, they'd been set up.
…
Inside the shop.
Sean followed Professor Tayra over to that witch—Abigail.
She was staring at him with genuine respect and burning curiosity.
"Mr. Hermes, may I ask when the Cerberus Cookies will be released, I mean, after them? What direction will your future products take…"
Her expression soured the instant Tayra stepped between them.
"Tayra, I kept my word and brought you the secret manuals. And you still have the nerve to ask for a Holy Stone—you'd better remember what those mean to Uagadou, and why we last raised our wands to fight!"
"Of course I haven't forgotten. The Stones can't leave Uagadou. But are you sure you don't want to reconsider?"
Professor Tayra sounded amused more than anything.
"What has Hogwarts given you, that you cling to it like this?"
Abigail's furious gaze slid past Tayra and landed on Sean.
"My apologies, sir. Unless the Elders' Council agrees, even for someone like you, we will not grant this."
Sean watched Tayra's lips curl in a familiar arc. Then she drew out a sheet of parchment, thick and old like a contract.
"I don't believe the Elders' Council expressed any objection."
Abigail took the parchment and stared, her voice turning hoarse.
"That's impossible—how could you possibly have gotten this? This has never happened before—what have you done?!"
"It wasn't me," Tayra said, smiling, and gently tugged Sean away.
In the side room, Sean heard her say quietly:
"The Holy Stone can never leave Uagadou's control. Only Uagadou students are qualified to receive one.
"Otherwise, it becomes nothing more than a cursed rock. Only the special set of twenty-four can be taken out of Uagadou and still wield their true power.
"This one is one of those…"
Something heavy and cold settled into Sean's palm—a stone that was really more like a tablet.
"When you're unfamiliar with it, I'll keep it safe for you," she said. "Remember: use it once a month. And when you do, keep reminding yourself not to drown in beautiful illusions. In that dream realm, no matter how much power you want, how long a life you wish for, you can have it all.
"Those two things are what humans crave most. The problem is, people always prefer to choose the things that are worst for them."
She finished this with layered meaning, then pocketed the stone again.
"I understand, Professor."
Sean studied it curiously for a moment. From what she'd said, the dream connected to this stone sounded anything but simple.
It reminded him of a line from Dream Tales:
[He lived many adventures there, and those adventures made him never want to leave…]
In that book, the place was called the world behind the Veil, while in Professor Tayra's interpretation, it was the world beyond the Death Veil.
Was there a connection between them?
"Professor, have you read this book?" Sean asked directly.
"A very interesting one—you actually tracked it down. Read it carefully, my disciple. Its protagonist is based on someone very famous, someone you children are always going on about…"
"Merlin?" Sean guessed.
"The downside of a clever student," Tayra sighed, half-helpless. "I never get to enjoy the teacher's pleasure of revealing the answer."
"Sorry, Professor," Sean said, lowering his eyes.
"Oh, child, what I mean is—there's no need to always skip that pleasure. For an alchemist, that is the greatest joy."
She looked even more pleased.
"But remember," she added, "alchemists chase practice as the core of truth.
"This book is full of fancy. It takes place in dreams. It can serve as a reference experience, but it must never become your guiding star.
"As for whether it truly describes that greatest of wizards—we simply don't know."
"So at least some of the content is real, isn't it, Professor?" Sean pressed keenly.
"It all happens in a man's dreams, in the foggiest of places," she said slowly. "But why, exactly, should that mean it isn't real?"
Sean fell into thought. He had the distinct feeling this book was not so simple after all.
Just like The Tale of the Three Brothers, it seemed to be pointing at something, trying to convey some hidden message.
But he didn't dwell on it for long.
Rather than wasting time on things so vague, he'd rather spend that time practicing Soul Transfiguration one extra time.
There had always been a subset of wizards who believed that such mystical tales—like The Tale of the Three Brothers—hid a secret meaning, one entirely opposite of what the text seemed to say, and only their "wisdom" could uncover it.
Like the idea that if someone legally owned all three Deathly Hallows, he or she would become "Master of Death"—often interpreted as invincible, or even immortal.
In reality, it was the opposite.
Sean gently set Dream Tales aside.
If the stories within were true, he'd eventually be able to do those things himself. And if they were false, getting obsessed with them wouldn't do him any good.
He pulled out the manuals Abigail had given him instead—the treasured notes Uagadou had never shared with the outside world. Their lure was far greater than any dream-book.
Beside him, Tayra drifted a little, wearing a faint smile and a glow of pride in her eyes.
Dream Tales was one of the legends that had leaked from Uagadou. Countless African witches and wizards had once placed faith in it, which in turn spurred their astronomy, transfiguration, and alchemy to flourish.
But the truth was, no one knew if the story was real—no more than anyone knew if the Tale of the Three Brothers was.
…
Fairy Tale House was about to close again.
The customers had all filed out, leaving in every imaginable fashion—some even leaving the country.
Sean had gleaned many new tricks for Soul Transfiguration from his book. Satisfied, he headed toward Professor Quirrell—he needed to hand over several potions.
At that exact moment, Snape was almost seething:
"What do you think you're doing?! Damn it—get over here!"
A former Death Eater was not to be trusted. Snape knew that better than anyone.
If they could bow once to violence, to desire and fear, it was perfectly normal for them to lose themselves a second time.
His sudden outburst made Abigail turn back, and coaxed Professor Tayra into sitting back down, clearly eager for the show.
"Tayra, what's going on?" Abigail demanded.
"Shut up and watch," Tayra replied mildly.
Abigail fumed but didn't dare talk back.
"I'll give you the Holy Stone usage guide," she muttered furiously.
"Oh?"
Tayra hadn't expected that little bonus. She gave Abigail a long, appreciative look.
"I've always liked the way your mind works…"
Sean didn't have to work hard to explain how he'd hired Professor Quirrell. Snape just stood there, his face like stone.
He'd already suspected why so many of the potions in Sean's vault were missing. Turned out they'd been used… to feed a rat.
"You'd better know exactly what you're doing," he said tonelessly.
Then he stepped up to Quirrell again.
"I'll be watching you. This time, before you do anything stupid, I'll kill you myself."
The menace in his voice left Quirrell white as chalk—but unlike at Hogwarts, he did not whimper or crumble.
"I only have one life to give to Mr. Green," he said quietly. "I won't waste it here."
Even Snape paused for a moment at that.