He'd said it so naturally that Sean paused a few seconds in thought.
The real difficulty of becoming an Animagus lay in the convoluted steps, the extreme demand on a wizard's will, and the constant risk of accidents. If you could get past those three, finishing Animagus training in first year wasn't impossible at all.
And before attempting Animagus magic, careful observation was essential.
Or rather, with any magic worth learning, guidance from those who came before was crucial.
Sean had just opened his mouth to answer when he was interrupted.
"Mr. Green, it's… it's really nice to see you,"
Hannah looked shy facing Sean, but when she turned to Justin she stiffened and sounded fierce.
"You still haven't managed to get Mr. Green into the club, I'm starting to think you're slacking off again—you don't show up for recruitment either… Justin, you don't look like a vice president at all.
How are you supposed to find the Castle Luck Cat like that—"
She finished scolding him, then hauled a very dejected Justin away.
Sean was left alone with his book, shaking his head.
…
In the afternoon, Ravenclaw had Herbology.
Sean left the castle and crossed the vegetable patch toward the greenhouses, where all sorts of magical plants were cultivated.
As he approached, he saw the other students waiting outside for Professor Sprout.
He had barely joined the group when Professor Sprout came striding up from across the lawn, with Gilderoy Lockhart at her side. Her arm was swaddled in bandages.
Sean's eyes flicked further off—to the Whomping Willow, whose branches also hung in slings of bandage.
Plants in the wizarding world were always peculiar—apparently when they got injured, they needed bandages too.
In front of him, Professor Sprout's flyaway hair was half tucked under a patched hat, and her robes were streaked with soil.
Lockhart, by contrast, was immaculate from head to toe: a flowing teal-green robe, and a matching hat with a gold-trimmed brim perched just so on his shining blond curls.
"Oh, hello there!"
Lockhart beamed at the students.
"I've just been showing Professor Sprout how to treat a Whomping Willow! But I wouldn't want you to think I know more Herbology than she does! I've merely happened to encounter a few specimens on my travels…"
Sean looked up. Professor Sprout's expression was… not good.
Very few people at Hogwarts could manage to annoy Sprout—she was one of the warmest witches in the school. Sean honestly couldn't imagine what kind of man needed only a few sentences to make her angry.
"Greenhouse Three today!"
Professor Sprout said. She was clearly in a bad mood, her usual cheerful tone gone.
As she passed Sean, her face softened slightly.
"Mr. Green, your mother's been in for a lot of mandrake leaves. It looks like you're working on Animagus transformation?"
She naturally drew Sean to her side, asking in a warm, familiar voice.
"Yes, Professor."
"Oh my my—"
Sprout's delight was immediate, and for more than one reason, apparently.
"Oh—and you're speaking—child, when you're holding the leaf, it's best not to open your mouth."
"I understand," Sean nodded slightly, then added,
"Professor, I've already succeeded."
"Oh, this… my dear little flower, you've already done it?"
Sprout's voice was full of genuine surprise and joy.
While the two of them talked, Lockhart was left smiling awkwardly to one side. His eyes flicked over, and though he didn't walk away, he followed them into Greenhouse Three.
"Told you, didn't I—Sean is definitely Professor Sprout's secret—"
After almost a year, Michael still hadn't given up his earth-shattering theory.
Anthony once again slapped a hand over his mouth until the boy's IQ climbed back into the upper atmosphere.
"Then how do you explain it…"
Michael gasped for air once he was free.
"If you can get a perfect score too."
Anthony's book held a folded ranking sheet.
Across the entire year, Sean was the undisputed number one. Rumour had it the professors had actually argued over whether they ought to invent extra marks above full score.
Next came Hermione—brilliant and hard-working.
Then came Justin and Anthony themselves, tied for third.
Anthony frowned.
Sean Green, of course, was terrifyingly strong—the Green Notes alone proved that; chasing him down felt nearly impossible.
Hermione Granger was no worse, a walking encyclopedia and excellent in every subject—a formidable opponent.
Justin Finch-Fletchley? Everyone knew he walked in Sean's footsteps; his results were understandable.
But Harry Potter—only a few points behind, with three Quidditch practices a week, an unimpressive start to the year, and generally disappointing performance—where had he sprung from?!
In Defence Against the Dark Arts and Charms, the bloke was becoming frighteningly strong. At this rate, Anthony wasn't sure he could even hold onto third place.
"Did you find whatever it is Sean and the others—"
Anthony began.
"Oh! Of course!"
Michael arched his eyebrows proudly.
"Even though I gave Neville the chance, I discovered something interesting—they've all joined a particular club."
While the Ravenclaws bickered, they stepped into Greenhouse Three.
To first-years, this was holy ground—no one like them had ever set foot inside.
In reality, Sean had already fought knotgrass there, thrashed Devil's Snare, and bound Venomous Tentacula with a snowman conjured by Transfiguration.
Every time he came in here, he remembered that winter cloaked in magic.
Greenhouse Three smelled of damp soil and fertilizer, overlaid with heavy floral scents. Umbrella-sized flowers drooped down from the ceiling.
Professor Sprout stood behind a bench in the middle.
On the bench lay about twenty pairs of differently coloured earmuffs. As they all sat, she said:
"Today we'll be repotting mandrakes."
"Professor Sprout, you don't mind if I sit in, do you?"
Lockhart's dazzling white teeth flashed in the sunlight.
Judging by Sprout's face, she did mind.
"I think the Professor minds. After all, it's best to leave specialist work to the specialists,"
a voice said from behind him—it was Bruce, an older student.
"Esteemed Mr. Lockhart, you know Greenhouse Three is full of plants that drop all sorts of strange powders. Anything could happen."
"I happen to have seen all the plants in this greenhouse on my travels. Oh, but I know, I know—that hardly compares with winning Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award five times in a row."
Lockhart sounded very pleased with himself.
Some of the younger witches were already looking at him with shining eyes.
"That's wonderful then," Bruce said cheerfully, as if he were genuinely helping to hype Lockhart up.
He turned and walked off.
As he did, Sean heard someone hiss quietly:
"Oh good, you put the itching powder down?"
~~~
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