The moment Sean's calm green eyes disappeared from view, no young alchemist's new invention or improvement could get the crowd excited again.
They totally got it, too. There was no point competing anymore, just like with their own teachers.
Nobody could even come close to the wizard named Sean Green.
Their students didn't need to bother trying either; the guy was just that young.
He was either gonna be a massive mountain weighing down three whole generations of alchemists… or a crown dripping with glory. Who knows?
The young alchemists kept giving their presentations anyway. Sean glanced at the multi-mirrors and at Professor Terra, who'd suddenly appeared beside him.
"Professor," he said quietly, "I still… don't really get it."
Sean knew full well that the stronger the magical creature, the harder the ritual gets. He definitely couldn't whip up the kind of creations those wizards were dreaming about anytime soon.
So he wasn't hyped. His road was long, really long, nothing like the fairy-tale version everyone else imagined.
But you couldn't deny it: the Fairy-Tale Cookie series was proof that a brilliant magical future was coming.
"My dear apprentice," Professor Terra said with a smile, "too much humility is like raw ore that hasn't been refined. It needs the fire of honor to purify it. As for balancing that scale in your heart… maybe go ask Headmaster Dumbledore? I hear—"
She cut herself off mid-sentence.
Something seemed to click for her. She glanced at her student, lost in his sea of knowledge, and let out a quiet sigh of relief.
At the end of the Youth and Junior Alchemist Exchange, Headmaster Dumbledore's deep, commanding voice rang out:
"Well now, my friends; allow an old man a moment of sentiment. Every single spark of alchemy tonight will light a future far beyond these walls.
And now… it's time for the young light to shine on its own."
"The International Alchemical Conference Pioneer Contribution Bronze Award goes to—Miss Heather Jack!"
Dumbledore announced loudly.
The alchemists who'd made the trip gave thunderous, heartfelt applause.
The super-young witch flicked her wand, and a stack of paper flew her straight onto the stage like a magic carpet.
Using your own alchemical creation to reach the podium? Yeah, that's become a cute little tradition.
Twenty-four stone tablets around the hall record it: Nicolas Flamel did it back in the day, and every young alchemist after him copied the move.
"The International Alchemical Conference Pioneer Contribution Silver Award goes to Mr. Lucien Hernandez!"
The Nordic bard-alchemist swung his cloak and apparated right onto the stage in a flash.
Sean watched quietly, wondering what the point was of enchanting Disapparition into a cloak.
When Lucien returned to his seat, everyone's eyes burned even hotter.
"I know," Dumbledore said, scanning the hall, his blue eyes twinkling behind half-moon glasses, "you've all been waiting for this one."
He tapped his wand lightly. Shimmering alchemical runes bloomed in the air, and every wizard in the room raised their wand, staring at the kid in seat number seventy-one—"Miracle."
"The wizard hailed by the International Alchemical Union as the greatest prodigy in six hundred years, and the youngest member in conference history, from Hogwarts—Mr. Sean Green!"
Sean just walked up. He hadn't prepped any fancy entrance, so he calmly strolled to the stage. Still, nobody dared look down on him.
The bard-box kept singing softly:
"The path of Master Nicolas Flamel has been overturned. Future alchemists will no longer chase only his footsteps; another towering figure now stands in this profound branch of magic—"
Sean caught a few lines and sped up.
Can someone tell him why there's a bard at an alchemy conference?
The prize was a badge—some kind of weird metal.
It felt cold in his hand. The front read: "As above, so below; thereby accomplishing the miracles of the One."
The back: "Late 20th Century International Alchemical Conference Pioneer Contribution Gold Award: Sean Green."
While Sean was examining it, he felt the contract that had been siphoning knowledge quietly vanish.
And with that, the International Youth and Junior Alchemist Exchange was officially over.
Next up: the grown-up alchemists' networking banquet. The castle had twenty-four hidden rooms—plenty of space for everyone to geek out.
The whole conference would last four full days.
Day one—when they'd first arrived—the banquet hall had been pitch black. Once every wizard was inside, day one ended and the hall lit up with pure white light.
All day long, young wizards and even middle-aged ones kept coming up to Sean wanting to chat. They were super friendly—no jealousy, no dark vibes at all.
Professor Terra laughed and explained, "Alchemy's been on the decline for six hundred years. Look at the guest-of-honor table—what do you see?"
Sean looked. Master Nicolas Flamel and Headmaster Dumbledore were both staring right at him.
He got it. Magic is power, and power was sitting right there, winking at him.
Candles and fireplaces glowed warmly through the castle, but night still crept in quietly.
It was a starry, brilliant night. Alchemists hurried between rooms, silhouettes flashing past lighted windows.
Sean sat behind Professor McGonagall in a private banquet hall. He wasn't arrogant because of the award, and he wasn't bothered either. His small frame was practically swallowed by the huge chair, Dumbledore's notebook still open in his lap.
He was itching to try out those ancient transfiguration runes.
Next to him was another book with notes from the transfiguration-alchemy masters he'd listened to—though there honestly wasn't much in it.
The second those alchemists saw him walk in, they started rattling off complicated stuff. He didn't understand a single word.
That's when Professor Terra walked in.
"Minerva," she said.
McGonagall had been riding a high of excitement and pride all day. Terra continued, "The International Confederation of Wizards is waiting for us. Even if those mediocrities had a hundred years, they couldn't copy the Fairy-Tale Cookies. But a patent will save little Green a ton of headaches."
Patent?
Sean looked up.
"Come on, my apprentice. Time to meet some very special people. Minerva McGonagall, you're coming too."
Professor Terra added with a grin.