Sean was growing more familiar with Hogwarts Castle by the day.
Even with his eyes closed, he could navigate his way to the dungeons without a hitch.
The glass cabinets filled with ingredients were like his personal storeroom. He could now recall the placement of most potion materials by heart.
His notebook for tracking potion practice was already full, forcing him to tuck Master Libatius Borage's notes between the pages of a new one.
Sometimes, Sean felt that the transmission of knowledge in the wizarding world wasn't exactly seamless.
Take Harry, for example. After getting his hands on the Half-Blood Prince's notes, his potion-making skills skyrocketed, even surpassing Hermione's hard-earned expertise in some areas.
Sean was no different. With Master Libatius Borage's improved rituals and willpower-guided techniques, he'd managed to brew a "skilled" level Swelling Solution right from the start.
By normal standards, an average wizard would need at least a year or two of dedicated study to reach that level.
This highlighted a glaring issue: in some, if not many, areas, magic wasn't necessarily progressing steadily.
Overall, the wizarding world was advancing. Dragon's blood and its uses, discovered by Headmaster Dumbledore this century, were a major breakthrough. Wolfsbane Potion was another clear leap forward.
In alchemy, the Weasley twins, Fred and George, would later come up with all sorts of inventive creations.
Flying brooms, too, were clearly getting more advanced and faster over time.
Beyond that, the wizarding world was steadily adopting Muggle technology—things like the Knight Bus, steam trains, cameras, newspapers, and wizarding radio. These were far beyond medieval capabilities.
But to say progress was massive? Not quite.
Dumbledore's discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood was one of the century's biggest achievements.
Professor Snape, a true innovator, had figured out tricks like using an English short knife to extract juice faster or stirring counterclockwise for immediate results.
Still, Sean noticed the wizarding world hadn't seen new charms created in ages. The only modern example he could recall was Snape's Sectumsempra.
Even more surprising? Hogwarts' textbooks hadn't been updated in forty years.
The books Sean used were identical to the ones Snape studied four decades ago. That meant wizarding knowledge had barely evolved in that time—a concept unthinkable in the Muggle world.
All this led Sean to one realization: breakthroughs in magical fields often hinged on exceptionally gifted wizards, like Dumbledore, Snape, or Professor McGonagall.
This seemed to hold true throughout wizarding history. Master Libatius Borage's discoveries, for instance, had pushed potion-making forward by a century.
So, finding these brilliant wizards and studying their revolutionary contributions seemed like an essential path to mastering magic.
Luckily, Hogwarts had a roster of such professors.
Snape, a contemporary potions master, was skilled enough to revise Advanced Potion-Making.
Professor Flitwick, a former dueling champion, was at the cutting edge of charm theory and practice.
Professor McGonagall, one of only seven recorded Animagi, had a wealth of Transfiguration knowledge that could keep Sean learning for all seven years at Hogwarts.
Where else but Hogwarts could Sean find so many powerful wizards willing to teach?
If he could stay at school over the summer, he might even get one-on-one lessons with them.
The professors were swamped during the term, with little free time. Snape, for example, could often be seen sneering as he graded papers or watching Sean brew potions in the dim dungeon light.
…
The steam rising from the cauldron snapped Sean back to reality.
He was still working on a Swelling Solution, having already reached "skilled" level with the help of the improved ritual.
A few days ago, he'd read a passage in Magical Drafts and Potions:
["Caution with the Swelling Solution is a must. A witch named Loria accidentally splashed herself while using it to water plants. For six days, her neck swelled up like a Quaffle. Thankfully, her mother—a novice at potions—brewed a batch of Shrinking Solution in time, soothing her pain and calming her distress."]
The book's obscure corners always held useful tidbits.
Sean suspected "soothing" and "calming" were the key emotions at play.
The flickering flames cast shifting light on his face.
Holding his breath, he carefully sprinkled the final scoop of powdered ginger root into the cauldron. The deep purple potion bubbled up with orange foam, releasing a spicy yet warm aroma.
He recalled the steps in his notes, weaving the improved ritual into his potion-making process.
Ingredient preparation, heat control, stirring technique, brewing time…
His movements were precise and methodical, each brew building on the last, never repeating the same mistake.
From a cobwebbed corner, Snape watched the young wizard, studying his focused expression and constant note-taking, occasionally offering guidance with a cold smirk.
Soon enough, Sean felt the familiar focus and emotion brought by the improved ritual. He imagined himself as that wizard, desperate to brew a Shrinking Solution to ease someone's suffering.
Under this emotional influence, the potion's fusion, guided by his willpower, underwent a dramatic transformation.
In an instant, Snape appeared at Sean's side, his eyes locked on the cauldron.
"If that troll-sized brain of yours has any sense, you'd know the consequences of tampering with rituals!" he snapped.
Furious, wand in hand, he didn't dare interrupt but stood by, brows furrowed, barely containing his anger.
Sean heard nothing. With the ritual and willpower guiding him, he felt as if he'd truly become that wizard.
His magic, infused with emotion, flowed into the steaming cauldron. In the bubbling potion, he sensed its beauty—its power to help wizards overcome challenges and solve problems.
He began to understand Snape's words from their first lesson:
"I don't expect you to truly appreciate the subtle beauty of a softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death."
Snape had spoken the truth.