She felt the warm breeze on her left cheek fade a little.
"If you turn old things upside down, you can see they're actually spells—spells that can turn an enemy's ears into kumquats."
Luna cradled an upside-down copy of The Quibbler, speaking in a dreamy way, her eyes fixed on Sean.
"You come here every day to listen to the ground snore, don't you? It must be very well looked after, to keep purring like that."
Sean gave a slight nod.
In a way, she wasn't wrong.
At the same time, he noticed that the carrot-shaped earrings Luna used to wear were gone. His brows knit slightly.
"Oh, don't worry, my things were stolen by nargles, they'll be back soon."
Luna sang the words more than said them.
Her eyes bulged just a little, but rather than ruining her looks, it gave her a strange, fey sort of beauty.
"The mysterious creatures that live in white mistletoe."
Sean replied, and as he lifted his wand, the missing items had already floated back to hover behind Luna.
"Yes, that's right…"
Luna always sounded like she was talking in her sleep, voice drifting and gaze unfocused.
When she turned her head to look at Sean, she spotted her things.
"See? The nargles brought my stuff back… looks like you've tamed them. Did you use mistletoe juice?"
"Wand."
Sean answered. He called softly for White-E, and the bright-feathered, snow-white owl swooped down onto his shoulder.
Luna stared unblinking at him—and at Tila, who was poking its twiggy head out of Sean's pocket.
At the edge of the Black Lake, Sean paused mid-step.
He looked out at the pale blue surface, which at this moment was like a gigantic mirror, reflecting flocks of birds overhead.
Here, a wizard's eyes were like a mirror of the self—some wizards could never see the malice aimed at them, because the water in that mirror was always so clear and pure.
"Next time you lose something, you can come to me for help."
Sean said.
Then he turned and left the shore of the Black Lake.
Crossing the sloping lawn, he walked on to the vegetable patch behind Hagrid's hut, where twelve enormous pumpkins had grown.
In the non-magical world, no one had ever seen pumpkins this big—each one came up to about half a person's height.
"You're here—come in, have some treacle toffee, they've just come out of the pan."
Hagrid greeted him with his usual enthusiasm; just a few days ago he'd been to Fairytale Workshop.
The place had been packed, and more than once wizards had argued over the last biscuit in the tray.
Luckily, he'd had special treatment—Professor Quirrell had dragged him in through the back door, completely ignoring the fact that Hagrid alone was big enough to block the front entrance.
"Look at my little beauties. Not bad, eh?"
Hagrid noticed Sean looking at the pumpkins and said happily,
"They're for the Halloween feast—by then they'll be even bigger. Want to help me carve some jack-o'-lanterns? I'll have to give you a few extra.
Just picture one of these downstairs in your common room—or in your dormitory—glowing all term long and never going out."
Sean nodded. For a wizard, something like that wasn't hard to manage.
…
Treacle toffee was an incredibly sticky sweet; one bite and Sean almost couldn't breathe.
He glanced again at Fang, who was baring his teeth, wheezing, and turning in excited circles… the dog had survived, so Sean supposed it wasn't that bad.
Eventually, the warm sunlight over the forest began to tilt and sink, sliding down the beech branches until it snagged on their very tips—by then Sean had left Hagrid's hut with just ten more points of transfiguration experience to earn.
Since starting to practice material transfiguration, he rarely used his Leisure Broom to travel. Walking back to the castle gave him more chances to practice.
[You practice a material transfiguration at a novice level within the master tier. Mastery +3]
The ground swelled and sank in soft waves, stones bulging and flattening into all kinds of shapes.
As Sean walked, the forest seemed to come alive.
Suddenly, he felt a hot pulse in his chest. He quickly pulled out the Planning Map: the markers labeled "Basilisk" and "Alchemic Toad" were shifting rapidly.
Sean frowned, raised a hand, and a broom flew into his grasp like a bolt of lightning.
The Horcrux had already drastically weakened Voldemort. So what was happening now?
The broom streaked across the sky like a shooting star. Inside, Hogwarts was still noisy and bright.
On the second-floor girls' bathroom, a figure appeared as if shrugging off an invisibility cloak.
On the Planning Map, Ginny's name was in Gryffindor Tower—but the basilisk and the Alchemic Toad were now almost right on top of Sean.
Without Parseltongue to command it, how could the basilisk be moving?
Or… had it never gone back to sleep after being summoned?
It had to hunt. And in the process of hunting, anything could happen.
Wearing his spell-refracting goggles, Sean stared at the ordinary-looking sink.
"Mr. Green!"
Just then, a voice piped up,
"Oh, it's like this… I've been thinking, if you die, you're welcome to share this toilet with me."
Moaning Myrtle said, her ghostly face flushing silvery-white with shyness.
Ghosts didn't obey logic, so nothing they said was really surprising.
"My, my, I can hardly imagine it—someone who can even make Peeves behave.
The only people who manage that are big important types like Professor Dumbledore. Someone like that…"
Myrtle prattled on beside him while Sean fell silent in thought.
On the map, the basilisk was prowling not far from where he stood, seemingly hunting around this area, then turning and slithering away again.
The Chamber might be vast, but for a creature that size, rats alone wouldn't keep it alive for long.
It would have to come out.
"I'm just about… ready."
Sean murmured, and turned away from the sink. He was heading to look for the Sorting Hat.
Meanwhile—
Downstairs in the corridor.
Harry jolted as if someone had stuck a pin in him.
"…Rip you… tear you… kill you…"
There it was again—that voice, the same icy, murderous whisper he'd heard in Lockhart's office.
He staggered to a halt, grabbed the stone wall, and stood there listening with all his might, eyes roaming the dim passage as he craned his neck, trying to find the source.
"Harry, what's wrong?"
Ron asked, baffled.
"That voice again—don't talk—"
"…So hungry… for so long…"
"Listen!"
Harry said urgently. Ron and Hermione stared at him, frozen.
The voice was growing fainter.
Harry was sure it was moving—moving upward.
He stared at the shadowed ceiling, a strange mix of dread and excitement in his chest. How could it be moving up? Was it a ghost? Was solid stone no barrier to that thing?
As he wrestled with the thought, he saw a figure hurry past in front of them.
~~~
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