The Quidditch season had kicked off, and the whole school was buzzing with talk about it.
The first match was set for Saturday—Gryffindor versus Slytherin.
If Gryffindor won, they'd climb to second place in the House Cup race.
Naturally, the hype around Gryffindor and Slytherin was through the roof.
As soon as Sean stepped into the Great Hall, he overheard someone saying, "I'm telling you, something's up with Harry! Every time Gryffindor's Quidditch team has practice, he vanishes—rain or shine. I bet—"
At the Gryffindor table, this comment sparked a wave of curiosity among the young witches and wizards.
Heads turned, and Harry, eating not far from Sean, froze.
"He's probably off fetching the Quaffle!" the student finished.
That got a chorus of boos from the surrounding kids. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, fetching a Quaffle? No way.
The conversation shifted to Harry's Quidditch skills—after all, it was obvious he'd joined the team, right?
Some told him he'd play brilliantly, while others teased they'd hold up mattresses and run beneath him to catch him if he fell. Harry wasn't sure which was worse.
Just then, Ron got into another argument.
"I'm telling you, Sean could take down a troll with a simple Levitation Charm!" Ron declared.
"Oh, come off it, Weasley. Sure, I believe Sean could do it," Theodore shot back, smirking, "but I'm not buying your story. Remember? Your Levitation Charm's worse than mine!"
Theodore couldn't resist poking fun at Ron's oft-repeated tale.
"I bet you don't even know how to make a feather spin, let alone cast a silent Levitation Charm…"
Ron's face turned beet red. Before Theodore knew what hit him, Ron lunged, tackling him to the ground.
"I earned twenty points for my house! You just got out of detention!" Ron roared.
The incident left Ron in a foul mood. Every time Sean passed by, Ron looked like he wanted to say something but held back.
"Will he accept us?" Ron asked, sounding far less confident than before.
"Sean's… well," Harry hesitated. Everyone in their year knew of Sean, but aside from Hermione, Justin, and Neville, nobody really knew him.
When people talked about Sean, they'd say, "Oh, he's talented, humble…"
They could list a hundred good qualities, but when it came to what kind of wizard Sean really was, even Harry could only say, "He's a great guy." Beyond that? Nothing.
Little did they know, Harry and Ron's fixation on Sean—or rather, the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team's sneaky interest in him—had caught the attention of a sharp, beautiful Ravenclaw.
"Figured out what's going on, Roger?" she asked, watching Sean leave the Ravenclaw table.
In the Great Hall, Sean, bundled in a thick scarf, was heading outside with Hermione and Justin.
Since the troll incident, Hermione had developed a new fear of Hogwarts. She spent nearly all her time in the Hogsmeade cabin.
Sometimes, the three of them would step out into the chilly courtyard during breaks… like now.
Hermione had just conjured a handful of bright blue flames, which she carried in a jam jar.
As she opened the jar, Sean waved his wand in a peculiar rhythm. Soon, a blue fire salamander scurried out of the jar.
When Hermione closed the lid, it let out a "gloop-gloop" chuckle, melted the lid, and darted back inside.
Hermione was convinced Sean was behind it and shot him a glare, cheeks puffed out.
"Not me," Sean said with a shrug.
Hermione instantly believed him. She peered curiously at the salamander, which burped a puff of blue flame that nearly singed her eyebrows.
Fuming, she grabbed her wand and chased after it.
Justin, snapping photos nearby, laughed. When he checked the pictures, he noticed Sean was in the same pose in every one—calmly sitting and reading a book.
[You practiced Advanced Transfiguration at a skilled level, proficiency +300]
Sean's progress in turning objects into "magic" was astonishingly fast.
Almost unbelievably so. But when he compared his notes to Professor McGonagall's progress, he realized it wasn't that fast.
He'd just reached her third-year level… as a first-year.
Transfiguration was an endless journey. Beyond turning objects into "magic," Advanced Transfiguration included turning "magic" into objects.
Then there was transforming "self" into a living creature or one living creature into another.
The difference? Transforming yourself—like Krum turning his head into a shark—or transforming someone else, like fake Moody turning Malfoy into a ferret.
These were advanced skills, and Sean had a long way to go.
So far, he'd only mastered the fire salamander for object-to-magic transfiguration. Lately, he'd been wondering: could he turn flames into a fire dragon?
Then he thought about Fiendfyre, which could take the shape of creatures. Could Fiendfyre be a kind of Dark Magic infused with Transfiguration principles?
Did Fiendfyre's ability to devour everything come from incorporating Advanced Transfiguration—like the Vanishing Charm?
After all, there were techniques in Transfiguration that stacked multiple spells.
Professor McGonagall had said vanished objects "become nothing, which is to say, everything."
Fiendfyre was notoriously hard to control. Wizards without enough skill often cast it only to be consumed by it, unable to use the counter-charm, causing unnecessary destruction. Only powerful wizards could wield it precisely.
Similarly, Transfiguration's "living creatures" could backfire if the caster lacked control, causing chaos.
As Sean pondered, Hermione stomped back, exasperated. She'd just realized how silly it was to get mad at a magical fire salamander.
The thought made her laugh at herself.
Just then, Snape limped across the courtyard. Justin nudged Sean, knowing he'd been brewing potions in the dungeons.
Sean glanced over.
Snape was hobbling toward Harry and Ron, clearly looking for an excuse to chew them out.
"What's that in your hand, Potter?"
"It's Quidditch Through the Ages," Harry said, showing him.
"Library books aren't allowed outside the school," Snape snapped. "Hand it over. Five points from Gryffindor."
"He just made that rule up," Harry muttered, watching Snape limp away, fuming. "What's wrong with his leg?"
"No idea, but I hope it hurts like hell," Ron said, grinning wickedly.
---