[You have gained the closeness of the magical creature Thestral (Woo-woo) at an entry-level standard. Proficiency +3]
…
[A new magical creature domain title has been unlocked. Please check it.]
By the time the sun started to dip, Sean had earned the new title.
Title: Intermediate Magical Creatures Affinity
Slightly increases affinity with magical creatures. Greatly increases understanding of magical creatures.
Understanding went up?
That sounded awesome.
Sean thought of a certain Hufflepuff upper-year who had insane creature intuition—he was basically one step away from chatting in English with his own Bowtruckle.
Outside the hut.
When Tila dangled from his wrist, Sean wasn't just reading her behavior through Hagrid's tips anymore.
He focused on her and suddenly got it—she was… cold?
No, wait!
He quickly tucked her into his pocket and lined it with a thick, soft pad.
So Tila didn't love his pocket for fun—she was freezing?
No wonder she always crawled up his arm the second they hit Hagrid's toasty hut.
[You have gained the closeness of the magical creature Bowtruckle (Tila) at a proficient standard. Proficiency +10]
Sean: "…"
Sorry, little buddy.
Crunching through half-melted snow, Sean cut across the Quidditch pitch.
He had Alchemy this afternoon and Potions to brew tonight.
Wonder if Professor McGonagall would let him keep researching alchemy…
Compared to Alchemy—which required an Outstanding in Transfiguration to even take—Transfiguration was the real foundation.
One understood magic; the other reshaped it.
So her worries made sense. First-years were supposed to build basics, not chase advanced stuff…
Quidditch Pitch
With Ravenclaw's match looming, the weather had turned brutal. The team, hyped and desperate, trained harder under Roger's last-ditch leadership.
"Beat Hufflepuff, then crush Gryffindor. Merlin—maybe we actually win the House Cup this year."
Michael, in the stands, was shaking Terry like a maraca.
"Stop—shaking—me—"
Terry was excited too, but he was already half-dizzy.
"Technically," Anthony said calmly, "we still need a ton of class points."
"Tech—ni—cally—"
Michael mimicked him in a robot voice, then got bonked on the head by a levitated textbook.
"Ow!"
He tackled Anthony.
Down below, at the edge of the pitch, Minerva McGonagall stood quietly in the snow.
She'd been over-worrying. Every kid had their own path.
Had she even asked what he wanted before stressing about his future?
"Mr. Green, over here."
Her voice was soft.
"Professor McGonagall."
Sean's small figure blurred through the snow, then sharpened—cheeks pink, eyes bright.
"You love Alchemy. You're good at it, aren't you, Mr. Green?"
She slowed her words, gentle.
"Yes, Professor."
He answered honestly, sensing the shift.
"Then go for it. Any Transfiguration questions—come to me."
She ruffled his hair, satisfied, and left the pitch. A shout from the stands made her glance back once.
Sean stood in the snow, a little stunned.
Afternoon Alchemy Class
Sean sat with the upper-years.
He was leaps ahead in Alchemy, but the basics? He'd skipped a lot.
Alchemy was vast—most wizards couldn't dream of its depth. When he had time, Professor Tala suggested he audit.
The professor's eyes flickered—complicated—when Sean walked in, but she just pointed to the closest seat.
Right next to Pamela Peyton, Ravenclaw's top alchemist.
The desks were built for older kids. Sean flicked his wand; the chair grew until his head popped over the edge.
Professor Tala actually smiled—rare—then launched into a lecture three times denser than usual:
"Roman wizards adopted the Mithras cult from Zoroastrian secrets; Mithraism spread across the Empire and treated those Greek 'dark magic papyri' as divine prayers to Mithras.
Some believe cultural exchange between Germanic and Roman wizards birthed runes.
Roman-Persian Mithraic rituals even birthed early forms of multiple alchemical rites…"
The upper-years' quills were smoking trying to keep up.
So when a paper airplane zoomed in and Professor Tala dashed out, the class exploded.
"Anyone hit the new prank shop in Diagon Alley?"
A Gryffindor pulled out a pack of Transfiguration Cookies.
"Duh—the Animal Party series. My dad says the place was famous before it opened. Merlin—you snagged some?!"
His friend gasped.
"I'm telling you, the alchemist behind this is a master. Years of study—combining animal transfiguration, alchemy, and food magic? Genius!"
The blond guy gushed.
Not really, Sean thought.
Professor Tala burst back in, chucked the noisy Gryffindor out, and the class didn't even have time to mourn before diving into round two.
By the time Sean left, he was stuffed with ritual magic knowledge—way more confident for the next ceremony.
Lately, though, Professor Snape had been… weird. Unreadable.
Out of the Alchemy room, into the torch-lit, echoing Entrance Hall—dinner smells wafted from the Great Hall. Sean could find his seat blindfolded.
He slid into his usual spot on the edge, surrounded by the Hope Cottage crew.
Even Harry and Ron had migrated over. Everyone was basically one big group now.
Maybe because they shared a secret. Maybe because danger was real.
They all agreed: stick together.
But over at the Ravenclaw table, in the loud section…
The freshly-trained Quidditch team was clustered. Roger and Prefect Penelope were both staring in the same direction.