The final week of summer vacation.
A light rain had fallen over Hogwarts. By the time Sean stepped out of the dungeon, the shower had already stopped.
The sky was a clean, refreshing pale grey, and the grass beneath his feet was damp and springy.
Sean walked through the Hogwarts corridors with the breeze, a purple-and-gold-edged book floating beside him.
On the cover, six characters in elegant green script read:
Wizarding Magical Chronicles.
Even more striking was the small line at the bottom of the dust jacket: Green Book Series.
No British wizard alive would fail to recognise the series. Its fame rivalled the Chudley Cannons in Quidditch and the Weird Sisters in entertainment.
And no British wizard would turn down the chance to own a Green Notebook—the most comprehensive, authoritative magical reference compendium in the entire wizarding world.
If you didn't have a Green Notebook—
Merlin's beard, you were already behind the starting line!
Your children, your grandchildren—they would all lag behind their classmates simply because they lacked a Green Notebook!
Hogwarts' Charms professor, Filius Flitwick, had publicly declared it the finest introductory charms text he had ever seen.
Ilvermorny in America and Uagadou in Africa ordered huge shipments of the Green Book Series every term…
According to the Daily Prophet's own incomplete figures, the average wizard owned at least one Green Notebook. It had become one of the best-selling books in recent memory—surpassing even The Tales of Beedle the Bard, the bedtime staple of every young witch and wizard.
Thus, the newest volume in the series—Wizarding Magical Chronicles—was the most anticipated release of the year. Wizards everywhere were waiting with bated breath.
Yet the mysterious Mr. Green had still not announced a publication date, leaving the wizarding public in agonised suspense.
Rumour had it that the owner of Flourish and Blotts, driven half-mad by constant demands, had once considered storming Hogwarts to steal the manuscript. In the end he thought better of it—because everyone knew one simple truth:
Hogwarts was not merely Hogwarts. It was Dumbledore's Hogwarts.
Now that very manuscript floated before the young wizard. Sean read quietly, occasionally frowning as he added a line or two in his neat handwriting.
In the distance the last drops of rain glistened on the leaves.
Bai Yi came flying in, a letter clutched in her beak, its edges slightly damp. She landed lightly on Sean's shoulder, tilted her head to place the letter in his hand, then shook herself and transformed into a small fiery lizard. She scampered once around his feet; the rain-spotted feathers instantly dried and gleamed again.
"Thank you," Sean said softly.
He slipped Bai Yi back into the Wizard's Book. Even through the wooden cover one could glimpse the roaring fireplace and the feast laid out on the table inside.
He lowered his gaze to the letter. It had come from Hogsmeade—not far away—and the sender was exactly who Sean had expected.
[Dear Mr. Green,
Words cannot express my gratitude for the trust and kindness you have shown me. The days I spent at the bookstore have been the brightest and most peaceful I have known in decades.
If you are still willing to shelter one furry wizard, I can find no reason to refuse.
I write now to express my willingness and to ask for your thoughts.
Yours faithfully,
Remus Lupin]
It was Lupin's letter.
Sean had anticipated it.
Still, the fact that Mr. Lupin preferred to remain at the bookstore rather than accept a professorship at Hogwarts took him slightly by surprise.
He knew the truth: this wasn't really about selling books or tidying shelves. Lupin simply wanted to repay the kindness he had received.
Sean summoned Bai Yi once more and wrote a swift reply:
[To Mr. Lupin,
Time flows on like water. I believe Hogwarts has greater need of professors than Green Book House has of a manager.
The post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher would allow you to realise your true worth and fill your days with purpose far more than life here ever could.
Please follow the choice of your heart.
Sean Green]
The letter soared away. Before she left, Bai Yi affectionately nipped Sean's wrist.
He watched the green silhouettes of the distant mountains and the owl messenger rising and falling among the clouds until both vanished from sight.
Lupin's letter had given Sean a new reminder. Once third year began, Hogwarts would be under heavier guard. If he had no wish to receive a Dementor's Kiss, he had better master a proper Patronus Charm beforehand.
At present he still could not summon a stable corporeal Patronus; the spell remained stuck at [Initiate].
At the very least he needed to reach [Proficient]. Only then would a solid Patronus appear reliably.
There was also an old saying about corporeal Patronuses:
The Patronus Charm had long been linked to those wizards who fought for noble causes. Those capable of producing a corporeal form were frequently elected to high office in the Wizengamot and the Ministry.
Whether because Dark wizards found the spell almost impossible or because powerful Light wizards studied it diligently, the saying had never been proven wrong.
Sean's Patronus lessons came from Professor McGonagall. He was already on his way to the Transfiguration office.
Fortunately his Shrinking Solution had only just reached [Expert]; Snape had granted him the morning free. Otherwise he would never have found the time to practise.
Lost in thought, Sean suddenly heard raised voices.
He stopped at once and pressed himself against a suit of armour at the corridor's corner.
With only one student left at Hogwarts, any argument had to be between professors.
Who could it be?
"…You should let him go."
Professor McGonagall's voice—stern and commanding.
"I'm sorry—he is not going anywhere."
A low, silky baritone. Sean recognised it instantly: Professor Snape.
"They will all be going."
McGonagall's lips were tight, her eyes sharp.
"Hmph. A hundred of those idiots… a thousand… it would make no difference if they all vanished," Snape drawled.
"Mind your position, Severus. You are a Hogwarts professor."
McGonagall was growing angry.
"Forgive me, but before that title I was perhaps the one who signed the adoption order."
Snape refused to yield an inch.
"…There will be no danger. We will all be present, and Dumbledore will see to everything."
"Dumbledore…"
The moment the name left her lips, Snape's face darkened like a thundercloud.
The wizard he protected—the one who had never once been endangered under his watch—had, after Dumbledore's meddling, ended up in the hospital wing for the first time, cursed by the most dangerous wizard alive.
"Best—not mention him again—"
Snape's temper finally exploded.