The secret passage was pitch-black—no torches in sight. Then again, if there were torches, it probably wouldn't qualify as a secret passage.
"Passage Thirteen—leads straight to the Alchemy office and a bathroom," Fred announced proudly, picking up the pace.
"I think I get it now—there's nothing about Professor Terra in the books. She doesn't like the spotlight, does she?" George whispered, his face a little weird.
"Alright, we're here. From now on, zip it and wait," Fred warned. He pulled a thin rope from his bag.
"This baby's our masterpiece. Still haven't named it, but that doesn't stop it from being awesome," George said, tossing the rope onto the ground. It slithered forward on its own, stretching all the way to the end of the passage before turning right.
"Professor Terra teaches Mondays and Wednesdays. Any other time, good luck finding her—she's always swamped. She vanishes right after class. If she's not here today, you'll wait a whole week. Mondays are the only day she grades in certain spots.
Oh—and right after grading, she hangs out in a nearby corridor for a bit. We don't know which one, so that's where this comes in!"
The rope twitched lightly. Fred muttered, "Not that classroom, not this one… got it—Passage Five!"
In a surreal vibe, Sean followed the twins out from behind a giant portrait. They hopped through, then ducked into another passage that only opened after six knocks.
"Lumos!" Fred's wand tip glowed.
"Lumos!" George lit his a second later.
"We'll wait here. When we say go, grab all your alchemy books and 'bump into' Professor Terra.
Good luck? You chat her up. Bad luck? You literally crash into her. Keep your notebook on top." Sean nodded. The "encounter" felt a little too staged, but after hearing the Weasleys had body-slammed her seven times, he kept quiet.
"Lumos!" Sean lit his wand and flipped open A Modern History of Magic. It was open to the section on Uagadou.
Uagadou was in Africa, at least a thousand years old. Sure, Africa had tons of small magic schools, but Uagadou was the only one that stood the test of time and earned serious global cred.
Students there crushed it in astronomy, alchemy, and Transfiguration.
At an international Animagus conference, Uagadou's team nearly caused a riot by pulling off synchronized transformations—drawing a swarm of reporters. Seasoned wizards felt threatened by a bunch of 14-year-olds casually turning into elephants and cheetahs.
Oh, and they cast spells with hand gestures. Why? Wands were a European thing—never made it over. So they kept breaking the Statute of Secrecy early on, and the Ministry couldn't do squat. Their excuse?
"I just waved. Didn't mean for his jaw to drop off."
The Ministry scrambled to rewrite the rules overnight.
"Oh, it's time! Go, go, go!" Fred shoved Sean out, practically vibrating with excitement.
Right on cue, a silver-robed professor with white hair and a storm-cloud aura marched past, clutching parchment.
With a flick of her fingers—no wand—the papers leaped into a trash bin that popped into existence, then vanished along with the bin.
Flora Terra always looked stone-faced. Alchemy class had been running over two months, and the kids still couldn't tell Feoh from f.
Same rune, just different regional spellings.
The silver-haired professor shot a glance at the thin string in the corner. Two sheets of parchment reappeared. A quill zoomed out of her office, scribbled furiously, then the parchment folded into an owl and flapped away.
Meanwhile, in the Great Hall, Pamela Peyton and a nearby Gryffindor got bonked on the head by falling parchment.
Sean stared, mesmerized—especially by that trash bin.
"Vanishing Charm, Disillusionment Charm, Revealing Charm, and Transfiguration—" he blurted.
"Not bad. Sharp instincts," she said, eyebrow arching slightly. Her voice was soft but loud enough for the Weasleys to hear—and for Sean to miss the cue.
"We gotta help him—" Fred spun in panicked circles.
"He's a legit alchemy prodigy!" George nodded.
They had no idea Terra's eyes now held real interest.
She waved a hand. The twins, mid-spell to nudge Sean, heard an explosion in their ears.
Their Extendable Ear was being chewed by the trash bin.
"Busted—run!" The Weasleys vanished.
"An Easy Introduction to Ancient Runes, Rune Dictionary, Table of Magical Phonetics—how far did you get?" In the corridor, afternoon sun streamed through stained-glass windows, making Terra's silver hair glow translucent. Clouds drifted past, light shifting from bright to dim, making Sean's eyes sparkle.
"Just finished memorizing," Sean admitted.
"Not bad." The silver-robed professor softened a touch seeing a lower-year. "Interested in alchemy?"
"Yes, Professor." Sean pulled out his floating quill—his moment had arrived.
"A levitating quill—solid rune array," she said, genuinely intrigued. She let go; the quill hovered. "Practice piece, not a true alchemist's first work, but still impressive—"
Her calm eyes warmed with appreciation.
Back in her second year, she'd mastered basic rune arrays too. Those books didn't demand that much rote memorization. But she hadn't jumped straight to crafting like this kid—who clearly learned recklessness from those two prankster prodigies. Fair enough.
"How long have you been studying alchemy, child?"
Her tone was very interested now.
"One month, Professor."
"One month—one month?!"