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While they were talking, dozens of owls delivered the mail.
They flapped their wings beneath the Great Hall ceiling, landing beside young wizards' eager faces.
A large batch of owls carried books with Green's Notes written in silver cursive on the cover.
The young wizards reverently put them away.
The other owls carried all sorts of strange items.
When the white owl flew over, Sean realized he'd received more than one letter.
First was an unfamiliar letter. The sender was Tina Goldstein.
Sean quickly figured out who she was and opened the envelope:
[Dear Mr. Sean Green:
Thank you for the generous gift of fairy tale cookies. And thank you, little one, for letting me see Newt transform into a cat sprite...
Unfortunately, I couldn't get his permission, or I would have sent some magical photographs with this letter.
But I heard you're very interested in magical creatures, and I'm delighted to see that.
So I've included the address of our residence with this letter. During the holidays, perhaps this little cottage could use some more company?
Yours: Tina Goldstein.
The Copper Kettle, 3 Hollow Valley Lane, Lindon-on-Stour Village, Dorset]
Sean quickly tucked the letter away, surprised that Ms. Goldstein would send him something like this.
Indeed, after he made the panther cookies, he'd need to find other magical creatures.[1]
Mr. Newt Scamander's suitcase was obviously a good choice.
Besides that, it was hard to find another place with so many docile magical creatures.
"Whose letter is that?" Hermione had clearly noticed Sean thinking about the letter for a while, so she asked curiously.
It had to be said—the more they experienced together, the deeper the young wizards' connections seemed to grow.
And the more they cared about each other.
"Ms. Tina Goldstein. She invited me to visit," Sean replied.
"Ms. Tina Goldstein?" Justin leaned over too.
"Mr. Newt's wife? My goodness! Sean, are you saying... they say very few people can find where Mr. Newt lives in seclusion. Where are they? Oh, never mind," Hermione said excitedly, covering her mouth.
"What Newt? What Tina?" Ron asked, stretching his neck after returning victorious from his bragging session.
While they talked, Sean opened the second letter.
[My dear child of the McGonagall family:
Another Christmas, yet the Christmas tree at the villa hasn't welcomed a reunion.
I hope that in distant Ilvermorny, you also received my blessing.
Remembering last Christmas when I still embraced you, outside the villa, even heavier snow fell.
Dear child, come home soon.
I wait for you, like an insomniac waits for dreams.
With love: Marcus]
Sean felt a bit dazed. He could almost see through the letter those soft, tired eyes.
Grandpa Marcus seemed to be more than just a country gentleman—at least, he had a gentle touch with words.
The third letter was the one the white owl had just handed to Sean.
The handwriting was characteristically brief:
[Come see me, child.]
Sean looked up and sure enough saw Professor McGonagall nodding at him from the staff table.
So a trip to the McGonagall villa became a certainty.
King's Cross Station
This year's winter seemed ready to end all at once. The January morning was crisp and golden as an apple.
Sean and Professor McGonagall briskly crossed the road through the traffic toward the massive, smoke-blackened train station. Car exhaust and pedestrians' breath glittered like spiderwebs, floating in the cool air.
Some large cages rattled on luggage carts, the owls inside hooting in displeasure.
"Marcus's wife Neye works at a publishing house. Some of the newspaper articles you've seen were written by her," Professor McGonagall said slowly.
"Of course, she also wrote the letter you received today. You haven't met her yet. Last Christmas, she was still in America for work, but now she's rushed back, eager to meet you."
Sean nodded thoughtfully. So it was Grandma Neye, whom he'd never met, who'd written the letter.
"So... what did you learn at Ilvermorny?" At some point, the usually stern and quiet Professor McGonagall had started asking about seemingly trivial things.
"I learned the Undetectable Extension Charm," Sean listed.
"That's excellent. What else?" Professor McGonagall's hair was meticulously groomed, the curled ends touching the slightly upturned corners of her mouth.
"I met Mr. Newt Scamander and learned spatial magic and weather magic," Sean recalled, listing them in order.
"Dangerous and rigorous magic. Come practice in the Transfiguration office," Professor McGonagall paused slightly but her good mood wasn't disrupted.
As they talked, the two boarded the carriage.
With the sunlight, bouncing along the road, the professor seemed to enjoy the scene.
"What else?" she asked gently.
"With that, I brought back a panther—it's Ilvermorny's mascot. And also..." Sean had no intention of hiding anything.[1]
"And?" Professor McGonagall's expression changed slightly.
"Also a Pukwudgie. It signed a contract with me to help organize the extended space.
Oh, and Professor, I helped send Ms. Isobel Thayer, who was a ghost, on her way."
Minerva McGonagall's vision went dark, then darker still.
Pukwudgies, as distant relatives of European fairies, extremely disliked humans and would use powerful magic to play tricks on them.
Such creatures were even worse than Gringotts goblins.
But compared to the Pukwudgie, what was this terrible thing about sending Isobel Thayer away?
"What does that mean?" Minerva McGonagall asked urgently.
"I helped Ms. Isobel Thayer, who had lingered for three centuries, move on to the afterlife.
She was very grateful and gave me a Book of Ghosts," Sean answered honestly.[2]
"..."
The carriage fell silent.
Minerva McGonagall was beginning to suspect her dear child and Olivia had escaped from Ilvermorny.
Her face darkened as she sent off a letter at top speed:
[Olivia, come see me. You'd better be able to explain—]
Only after the carriage kept bouncing and Sean seemed to realize he should explain everything he'd done at Ilvermorny did Professor McGonagall's expression improve.
Only then did Sean have time to take in the modest McGonagall villa and Marcus under the beech tree, laughing heartily.
It looked like at the tail end of this Christmas, he'd be able to test his actual strength.
Having a clear understanding of himself—Sean believed that was necessary and important.
So his steps as he got off the carriage were much lighter.
"Welcome home—" Marcus called out cheerfully and vigorously from under the tree.