"Professor, it's not worth it."
Sean stood beside Quirrell. The man who had been snarling a moment ago now had only respect in his eyes.
The crowd was dying to know what had just happened, but no one dared get too close.
Only Lucius Malfoy, pale as a sheet, scrambled up from the floor—and, as if nothing had happened, slipped a small diary into the middle of Ginny's brand-new, shiny Lockhart books.
The commotion ended quickly. The Weasleys had never seen Lucius slink away like that before—not even a parting threat.
Harry, Hermione, and Ginny had stars in their eyes. Once Professor Quirrell had gone, Hermione couldn't hold back any longer. She whispered, excited and cautious:
"Professor Quirrell is the agent of the shop at No. 77 in Diagon Alley now, and Sean, you're on such good terms with him! Oh! Of course!"
"On good terms? That's putting it lightly!" Ron blurted—and then clapped a hand over his mouth.
"You knew?" Hermione spun around, eyebrows raised.
The kids were on their own now; the Weasleys and the Grangers had gone back to the Leaky Cauldron for drinks.
Sean, who'd originally been flanked by Hermione and Justin, suddenly found Harry's head poking in from one side—and beside him, Ginny's. The two of them traded a glance and then silently waited.
"I—I don't know anything, how would I know anything…" Ron muttered, wishing he could go back in time and smack himself.
"Sean, don't tell me you're that…" Hermione dropped her voice, eyes narrowing. She'd suspected it for a while, but never quite dared to confirm it.
"Mm."
Sean nodded. For the kids from the Hope Room, he'd never really bothered to hide it.
"You hid this from us that long?" Hermione's anger and shock came all at once.
"Or—and hear me out here—you didn't ask, and I did," Ron said quietly off to the side.
"Ron! Not everyone walks up and casually asks people about something that important!"
Hermione's face went pink.
"Maybe you're right. Keeping secrets is too hard. Next time, I won't ask anyone anything," Ron said after a few seconds, then pulled a miserable face.
His surprisingly honest admission left Hermione both irritated and amused.
Harry and Ginny, meanwhile, were just… stunned. Belatedly, they realized something pretty massive had just been said.
"So…" Harry murmured.
Ginny started out confused, not really understanding the scale of it. But then something seemed to click; she hurriedly pulled a copy of the Daily Prophet from her bag.
After a careful comparison, she confirmed it: the wizard in the article was the same as the quiet boy in front of her—the mysterious shopkeeper of No. 77, Fairy Tale Workshop.
"You're the Hermes who returned in glory!" Ginny burst out before she could stop herself.
"Oh, surprised? You were expecting a vampire or a werewolf or something?" Ron said automatically—then froze.
…When had Ginny slipped in with them?
Only then did the Hope Room kids notice the little red-haired witch who had sneaked into their circle. Her Weasley-red hair stood out a mile away; now that she'd been caught, her entire face had turned scarlet.
Even Ron realized the mood had shifted. The rest of them had gone through danger and hardship together; their trust had been earned. Ginny hadn't.
He quietly stepped in front of her.
"It's fine," came a soft voice, drifting over them.
Sean spoke.
"Oh…" Justin looked at Ginny thoughtfully.
"You decide who should know," Hermione said, chin tilting up.
"I—I'm sorry," Ginny faltered. She was suddenly very aware she probably shouldn't be here at all.
"It's all right," Sean said gently.
He'd already spotted the little diary in her bag.
It seemed the story was proceeding exactly as before: Tom Riddle's diary had fallen into Ginny's hands. The Chamber of Secrets arc was about to begin…
He'd have to work fast. Even though the original books never mentioned Ginny having any long-term damage from baring her soul to Tom Riddle, Sean was inclined to believe she hadn't. Still, when it came to Horcruxes—dangerous, unpredictable things—the earlier you dealt with them, the better.
When someone is trusted for no reason, they usually feel it. Ginny pressed her lips together and shrank to the edge of the group, careful and quiet. That softened Hermione's expression.
"I'm guessing you'd already seen Ginny before this, hadn't you, Sean?" Hermione said, walking over to stand by Ginny's side. She shot Sean a meaningful look.
"Yes," Sean replied.
"You see? Sean doesn't do the wrong thing. Just don't spread it around, all right?" Hermione added.
Ginny bobbed her head up and down at once. Somehow, her sneaking around had turned into… being quietly accepted.
Still… she stole two quick glances at Sean. She couldn't figure out why this Green boy trusted her so easily.
The cobbled length of Diagon Alley was packed with some of the most tempting wizarding shops in the world. The children wove in and out of the flow of people, picking up all the supplies they needed.
Passing them went all sorts of customers: oddly dressed, squat witches up from the countryside on their annual shopping trip; gaunt, scholarly wizards locked in heated debate over the latest article in Transfiguration Today; scruffy wanderers; noisy goblin-sized beings…
Even though Hermione and Justin had been here several times now, the street's chaotic charm still dazzled them.
They bought six huge strawberry–peanut-butter ice creams and wandered through the alley licking at them, admiring every shop window as they passed.
By dusk, a plump shape rolled out of a fireplace.
"Neville! What took you so long?" Hermione cried.
"I came seventh in the year," Neville sniffled, "so Grandpa Algernon sent me a biting top hat for encouragement…"
He rubbed at his half-missing hair and his swollen nose, tears welling up.
"Aunt Enid dug out Nose-Biting Teacups from the attic, Uncle Harfang gave me a Knee-Knocker Umbrella…"
By the time he finished, everyone agreed it was a miracle he'd managed to get to Diagon Alley at all.
"Fred and George sometimes leave spiders in my room," Ron added, patting Neville on the shoulder in sympathy.
Neville's eyes overflowed again—but before anyone could say more, a tall figure in black robes loomed over them, and he froze on the spot.
"Move," Snape said coldly, his gaze sweeping over the kids and finally settling on Sean.
"See you at Hogwarts," Sean said quietly, then fell in beside the professor.
"Have you noticed," Hermione said slowly, watching them leave, "that Professor Snape… doesn't seem quite so terrifying anymore?"
"Has he?" Ron scratched his head, unconvinced.
…
Hogwarts was quiet at night.
Sean sat holding a tablet-like stone. Mist curled over its surface, looking very much like the fog he'd seen in that world behind the Veil.
The Hollow Rune itself wasn't that dangerous. If there was danger, it had to be in how it was used.
Sean read Hollow Rune: A Simple Introduction once more. When the moonlight grew bright enough, the tendrils of mist wrapped slowly around him.
This was his first time using a Hollow Rune—the soul-stone that existed only in Uagadou.
After a long time—or perhaps no time at all—Sean's awareness floated, half-there and half-not. He was sure he existed, sure he wasn't just a drifting thought, because he was lying on something. So he could still feel. The surface under him was real.
Right now, he might very well be nothing but a soul.
He looked down at his foreleg. It was clearly not an arm; it was a dark, black-furred paw with white underneath.
A cat paw.
He lay in a bright field of mist. But unlike any fog he'd ever seen, this wasn't mist hiding scenery—this mist hadn't yet become scenery at all.
The ground beneath him seemed white. Not hot, not cold—just there—a level, empty nothing.
After only a few minutes, the panel chimed:
[You have practiced Soul Transformation once at a journeyman level within the master field. Mastery +10]
His first "journeyman" tick, just for lying there.
Green eyes looked up. The black cat watched as the white fog began to churn, images forming inside it, strange and shifting. It sprang aside at once.
It padded through the empty world, and as it walked, wisps of mist peeled away from its own body.
This time the cat saw them clearly: some shapes like a cross between cat and leopard, some winged…
He focused, trying to take it all in. But the longer he watched, the dizzier he became—like the pull that meant he was about to be dragged back.
Just then, a huge black paw rested on his back. The cat swayed and looked up into the amber eyes of a powerful black panther.
The panther spoke:
"At last I see you, little one. Look at you—so gifted in alchemy and transfiguration… Kaatonda Most High doesn't concern herself with mortal trifles, that's how you ended up in the wrong place.
Come home to Uganda, my child. Uagadou has waited for you far too long."
Sean couldn't speak. He stared at the panther in confusion.
"At least let me introduce myself," the panther said, circling him, its heavy tail sweeping over the edge of his fur. "I am the current headmaster of Uagadou. I've come to take you back where you belong."
The cat was curious—how was this headmaster able to grab hold of his soul-shape and speak aloud at all?
As his anxiety flickered, a loud, ringing meow echoed through the fog.
"Most High above, your firstborn son finally returns to his glorious homeland—"
The panther's voice shook with joy. The cat had absolutely no idea what wild fantasy he'd just spun.
"Baba Yaga—no, Babajide Akingbade, get lost," another voice cut in sharply.
The cat spun, agile and quick, and saw an old wizard in flowing midnight-blue robes walking toward them.