"Hermione."
Sean greeted her with a faint smile. His expression wasn't much different from the person beside him.
"You didn't you go to Ilvermorny—oh my gosh!"
Hermione ran over, with Neville panting as he hurried after her.
"And this is—Professor Scamander—when did you get back? Why are you with Professor Scamander? What's your relationship? Oh my gosh, do you ever go anywhere without making something huge happen?"
Hermione fired questions like a machine gun.
Neville also craned his neck, trying to see.
Hermione's barrage made Sean think for a moment—this time, they'd probably broken at least a hundred Ministry laws.
Using the Undetectable Extension Charm without permission, using dragons to pull a carriage, crossing borders casually—
"I'm studying Undetectable Extension magic with Mr. Scamander."
Sean tapped the Wizard's Book as he answered.
At once, the Wizard's Book unfolded layer upon layer, revealing a wooden door. Inside, you could see a spacious cabin, a warm fireplace, bright windows—and beyond them, snow-covered hills and forest.
"What?!"
Hermione shrieked.
Then a grey-skinned, three-foot-tall, goblin-like creature bowed to her, and she went pale, like she was about to faint.
"Is there any law you haven't broken?"
As soon as she said it, Mr. Scamander couldn't help but chuckle softly.
Theseus used to ask him the same thing.
"You brought back a goblin! That's absolutely not allowed in Britain!"
Hermione blurted out, panicked.
"As for goblins—there's no issue. Pukwudgies aren't classified as magical beasts; they're considered people. As long as they have approved entry, it's legal to go to any country."
Newt explained gently.
"But—but—"
Hermione felt awkward pushing back against the words of a man she respected so much, but after a few seconds she stubbornly asked, "Goblins are… people?"
Clearly, even after more than a year at Hogwarts and mountains of reading, she still hadn't had time to learn an obscure distinction like what counts as a person versus an animal.
"Hah—there are plenty of stories behind that. Come with me, will you? Fairy Tale Shop is about to close."
Newt's smile spread across his whole face.
"Fairy Tale Shop…"
Hermione repeated in surprise.
"Oh—I should've guessed."
Of course she understood what kind of pull those biscuits—ones that let you transform into magical creatures—would have on a master who'd spent a lifetime with magical beasts.
They walked along the cobbled path. Hermione lifted her chin, glanced at Professor Scamander, then leaned in and asked Sean in a low voice,
"You always keep things from us. If you're willing to explain… how did you even meet Mr. Scamander?"
Hermione stayed close beside Sean. She'd noticed Mr. Scamander was holding a special gilt parchment invitation, and kept giving Sean a very particular look.
Unfortunately, young witches and wizards rarely noticed details like that.
"Mr. Scamander is an honorary professor at Ilvermorny," Sean replied.
"That's surprising. So—do you have some kind of relationship with him?"
Hermione seemed to have held that in for a while, but she still couldn't stop herself.
If Sean's identity hadn't come out, she absolutely didn't believe Scamander would teach just anyone the Undetectable Extension Charm.
That made Sean fall quiet. Mr. Scamander had taught him wholeheartedly—he'd even stayed longer at Ilvermorny and taught extra lessons because of it.
Sean knew it had nothing to do with the Fairy Tale biscuits.
So… who would Mr. Scamander be that loyal to?
Hard to guess.
Sean's gaze drifted toward faraway Hogwarts—toward the Headmaster's office window, where an old wizard with white hair was looking out with calm wisdom.
"I think little Green is the most talented young wizard I've ever taught," Newt said, as if he'd heard their conversation.
And also—someone very much like him: a child who treated magical creatures as companions.
Before Hermione could gasp again, they'd arrived at the front of Fairy Tale Shop.
It was open today, but they were clearly late—there were only a few customers left inside.
Still, the invite-only system had its benefits: every biscuit batch was numbered and tied to specific invitations. For example, if there were ten biscuits and only five invited customers—two per person—then those five would definitely get what they came for.
Inside stood a huge Christmas tree, hung with glittering little icicles and dozens of candles. At the top, several glowing letters shimmered:
X.G.
Voices drifted through the shop:
"In all of Diagon Alley, this shop's magical items are the best. Pity they only sell two biscuits each—one baby-dragon biscuit and one owl biscuit. It's heartbreaking."
A wizard in a tall hat sighed dramatically.
"And Merlin's beard, you've used up your quota, you idiot."
The witch with him snapped, merciless.
"Lisa—you always break my heart."
The tall-hatted wizard clutched his chest in mock despair.
The witch didn't even dignify him with a reply—she Disapparated on the spot.
Things like that happened in this shop all the time, but the shop's agent manager always wore a severe expression. Rumor had it no one had ever seen him smile.
"Respected Mr. Green—"
Quirrell spotted Sean. He breathed out in delighted disbelief, then Apparated right in front of him.
His eyes seemed to hold no one else—until Sean stepped into the shop first. Only then did Quirrell lower his gaze to the other two.
"Mr. Scamander—my master has issued a new invitation for you. You may purchase Fairy Tale biscuits without limit."
Then he turned to Hermione.
"Miss Granger, we meet again. You may go in. However, aside from Mr. Scamander, today's quota has sold out. Next time, you'll need to come earlier."
For someone who'd once faced Voldemort head-on alongside them, he even allowed himself a rare little joke.
"Next time, I can come?!" Hermione lit up.
"Of course. Why not?"
After more than a year of hiding and caution, Quirrell had almost forgotten he'd once been a brilliant, witty wizard.
"Thank you, Professor!"
Hermione hurried inside, her footsteps pattering.
The title made Quirrell freeze for a beat. He watched her go, then chuckled quietly.
At the door, Newt—who seemed to know more than he let on—had eyes that looked unusually bright.
"Baby dragon—so that's Norbert?
And the Bowtruckle—did that come from the one on you?
A hippogriff—I've seen you riding one…
Right. I should've come sooner. Everything here is fascinating. Biscuits that can even give you a cat's whiskers, an owl's wings, and a dragon's claws…"
Under the Christmas tree, Hermione darted around inspecting everything, her voice bubbling up along with the fireplace's crackling warmth.
