Many magical objects aren't hard to understand in terms of how they work.
Wizard chess, for instance, is basically just Transfiguration.
Ever-burning candles are basically just a set of Light Charms.
But making a magical object means dealing with all kinds of difficulties.
Entering someone's memories takes a long time. The last time they entered Professor Dumbledore's memories—even just to view a few scenes—it cost them an entire day.
And now Sean's head was stuffed full of memories tied to knowledge, yet he'd only slept for two hours.
Honestly, it was very magical.
As for how Lady Ravenclaw found a material capable of holding those memories for more than ten centuries—Sean had no idea.
—The scroll was already gone.
[Encountering a special circumstance…]
[Processing special circumstance…]
[Complete…]
The panel chimed three times in a row. Sean froze.
[Your Charms aptitude has increased]
[Wizard Sean, Charms aptitude: pale violet (Charms Adept bonus applied). Note: an ordinary wizard is green]
[Evaluation: You possess rare talent in Charms. With study, you will become a true Master of Charms]
His Charms aptitude… increased?
Sean was surprised, but he understood almost immediately why.
He lifted a hand, about to cast a Cleaning Charm on the robe hem stained with pumpkin juice—only for a familiar sensation to rise in his mind on its own.
As if he became Ravenclaw for an instant, following her old motions as he cast.
[You practiced a Cleaning Charm to a master standard. Proficiency +300]
When his robe was clean again, he accidentally glanced at the wand beside him.
Wait…
He looked down at the spotless hem and fell into thought.
Just now… was that wandless magic?
Wandless casting was a skill only truly powerful wizards could master.
Dumbledore had done it. Tom had done it.
And one person Sean knew who was especially good at it was Professor Terra.
Although ancient wizards mostly used wandless casting, in twentieth-century Scotland—after wands became widespread—wandless magic had all but vanished.
As Sean thought back, certain memories about ancient magic grew clearer in his mind.
"Magic…" Sean murmured. He knew this was Lady Ravenclaw's memory—describing ancient magic.
"It is the wizard's description of the power to make desire into reality. Steadfast faith is its banner; knowledge and wisdom are its wings. Beyond that, there are no chains."
He kept recalling it—again and again—until his head grew even dizzier. A few seconds later, his vision went dark and he collapsed forward onto his seat.
He didn't know how long passed before he opened his eyes again, only to find Mr. Owl staring at him with those huge eyes.
"Content! Content! Clever little wizard! Greedy little wizard!" Mr. Owl chattered.
Sean understood then: using that massive knot of memories in his head came with a price.
At least a mental one.
After a while, he finally managed to suppress his joy.
He'd gained Ravenclaw's wisdom—wisdom embedded in knowledge and magical instinct.
His Charms aptitude had improved, and he'd even learned wandless casting by accident.
Smiling, he opened the panel:
[Wizard Sean, Potions aptitude: blue]
[Wizard Sean, Herbology aptitude: blue]
[Wizard Sean, Magical Creatures aptitude: pale violet]
[Wizard Sean, Charms aptitude: pale violet]
[Wizard Sean, Transfiguration aptitude: violet]
[Wizard Sean, Dark Magic aptitude: gold]
[Wizard Sean, Alchemy aptitude: gold]
Two legendary, three epic, and two elite talents—together forming Sean's current set of gifts.
Satisfied, he looked up. By now the sky was fully bright; the owl messengers had finished delivering mail and were flying off toward the far distance.
Sean had a nagging sense he'd forgotten something—but with all the memories swirling, he couldn't grasp what.
Meanwhile, in the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey stared at an empty bed and let out a startled cry.
…
Last night, Hogwarts had been drenched by rain. Now the rain had stopped, and the sky was a clean, pale gray. The grass underfoot was damp, springy when stepped on.
Sean went to the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid had entrusted it to him, so he had to take it seriously.
But an accident happened—when Bai Yi saw Mr. Owl perched on Sean's shoulder, it exploded in anger and transformed into a fire dragon.
Mr. Owl shrieked and fled. It took Sean quite a while to calm the furious Bai Yi down.
Now he still had other tasks—like delivering the two-way mirrors.
He kept feeling like he'd forgotten something, but he still couldn't remember.
Walking outside the castle, Sean kept sorting through the memories in his mind—ancient magic.
Those spells held power Sean could barely imagine, but their difficulty was just as extreme.
When he tried to cast one spell that would rip a tree out by its roots, his vision immediately went black.
Lady Ravenclaw's memories gave him a certain ability to succeed, but they didn't reduce the cost.
And the spells he'd found in those memories were rarely easy to use.
Sean had sorted out one spell meant to move mountains and smash giants;
another that summoned lightning to strike down dragons…
But most of the time, his opponents couldn't even fight after a single Expelliarmus.
As for the deeper ancient magic, most of those memories were still blurred—either because Sean hadn't reached that level yet, or because something was needed to trigger them.
Just like earlier, when he cast the Cleaning Charm.
When he entered the castle, he saw a group of students hurrying past, looking for someone.
He didn't pay attention and headed for the Transfiguration office and the dungeons.
Halfway there, he ran into Professor Snape.
Snape's eyes were bloodshot, scanning every corner of the castle.
"Professor Snape," Sean said.
"Sean Green!" Snape roared—and grabbed him by the front.
Sean didn't understand, only felt himself being lifted.
His mind flicked—he transformed into a black cat and sprang onto the window ledge.
Something was definitely wrong.
"And you still dare—" Snape laughed, furious.
The black cat didn't understand—until it saw Professor McGonagall hurrying over as well.
"Sean Green!" Her expression was tightly restrained panic, her stern face flashing with anger.
"Oh, I think this is probably another little accident," came Dumbledore's voice at last.
Only then did the black cat notice Dumbledore behind her—smiling and winking.
"Albus, you've finished your paperwork?" McGonagall said darkly.
"Dumbledore—I told you, I'm handling this," Snape snarled, glaring at Dumbledore.