Any other wizard might have been moved by Hannah's invitation.
But in the end, Sean shook his head.
Hannah looked deeply disappointed.
"You don't believe the Lucky Black Cat exists? But you've already dreamed of it!"
Hannah asked in confusion.
"Luck might exist now and then," Sean said softly. "But I'm sorry, Miss Abbott—I believe in myself more."
"But… luck—everyone wants luck to come to them. Don't you want to touch the Lucky Black Cat's ears?"
Hannah stammered.
"Maybe," Sean thought for a moment. Can a cat touch its own ears?
A puzzling question.
"Alright… sorry to bother you, Mr. Green."
Hannah walked off, dejected, invitation still in hand.
"Hannah."
Just as she reached the doorway, a voice drifted over.
"I don't know whether luck exists—but the feeling of waiting for it might be the truest gift of all."
"You're right."
Hannah spun around, but the hospital wing door had already closed.
Through the crack, she could only glimpse the wizard on the bed hooking a finger—several books flew neatly toward him.
She rubbed her eyes, and the crack sealed shut.
Mr. Green really was the most outstanding wizard in a hundred years…
Once again, the belief held by students across Hogwarts felt confirmed.
…
The hands of the clock slid downward into the warm, pleasant hour of evening.
The sun sank slowly past the treetops of the Forbidden Forest. Wrapped in sunset light, Sean crossed the grass.
At his side, Hermione clutched a crystal vial; Justin held his wand tightly, braced for anything.
"It's a very interesting place," Sean explained. "Hogwarts' house-elves call it the 'Come-and-Go Room'—or the Room of Requirement."
Hermione and Justin listened intently.
They needed to make their move somewhere quiet, somewhere no one cared about.
Because if they were discovered—if they were interrupted—Hogwarts might truly consider expelling them.
Of course, that didn't include Sean.
No professor would ever vote to expel Sean.
"Why?" Hermione and Justin asked, curious.
"Because you can only enter that room when you truly need it.
"Sometimes it exists, sometimes it doesn't—but when it appears, it's always arranged to match the seeker's need.
"If a house-elf is drunk out of its mind, the room will have hangover cures for butterbeer—and a bed sized for an elf to sleep it off.
"Even Filch once found spare cleaning supplies there when his tools weren't enough…"
Sean described what he knew, calmly and clearly.
"It sounds a lot like the Hope Nook," Justin said thoughtfully.
"It's basically the same," Sean confirmed.
"Then it's another amazing room," Justin said, excitement rising.
"How many people know about it?" Hermione asked, frowning.
"Very few. People usually stumble into it when they need it, but they can't find it again afterward—because they don't realize it's always there, waiting to be needed."
Sean paused, then added, "It's on the eighth floor—across from the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy being beaten by a troll."
"Then what are we waiting for?" Justin rushed ahead—
—and immediately doubled back.
"Which tower is that, Sean?"
Hermione was momentarily speechless.
Evening was mild and darkening.
They hurried through the corridors and reached the place Sean described: the huge tapestry of Barnabas trying to teach a troll ballet, facing a stretch of blank wall.
"This is it," Justin murmured.
A moth-eaten troll paused mid-thrashing, turning to stare at them.
"Sean said we need to walk past the wall three times, focusing on what we need."
They did exactly that—walking to the window at one end, turning back; reaching the tall vase at the other end, turning back again.
Sean stood to one side with Ravenclaw's old book in his hands. Justin narrowed his eyes and concentrated. Hermione whispered under her breath.
We need a place with no escape routes… Justin and Hermione thought. Give us a room where sound can't carry… where we won't be discovered…
"Sean!"
On their third turn, Hermione suddenly spoke.
A smooth door appeared in the wall.
Justin grabbed the copper handle first, pulled it open, and they stepped together into a spacious room lit by torches—like an underground classroom.
But apart from the torches, it was empty.
Sean walked to the wall and found a precise array of runes carved there.
"It's a soundproof ward," he said.
"Just a few insignificant bits of magic from a junk room," Raven—Owl Gentleman—poked his head out of Sean's Wizard's Book, puffing up proudly.
"Mr. Raven," Sean warned, as Whitey poked her head out too.
"Smart little wizard—she was asleep. But I'll say it again: you'd better let her fly sooner or later. A wizard only needs one owl… and it should be the smartest."
Raven sounded supremely confident.
"Mr. Raven," Sean warned again, voice low.
"Annoying little wizard, I said—Whi…tey, ma'am, why are you awake—?!"
Raven beat his wings and fled. Whitey shrieked and immediately gave chase.
Two owls flapped wildly—one fleeing, one pursuing—shooting through the crack of the door.
"What a familiar sound…"
Justin watched them vanish and scratched his head.
Raven—Owl Gentleman's suit had been taken away by Will to be cleaned, and the lighting here was dim; Justin hadn't recognized him at first.
Hermione, meanwhile, stared hard at the owl's retreating back, then shook her head as if to shake off an absurd thought.
"Lock the door. Lockhart is in the Defense Against the Dark Arts office right now, and I'll be back in half an hour."
Hermione gave her final instructions.
"Okay," Justin said, tightening his grip on his wand.
After the owl fiasco, tension naturally spread through the room again.
Justin couldn't stop himself from trembling a little. Hermione drew a deep breath.
What they were about to do was extremely risky—and they had no way to communicate if something went wrong.
If anything happened, it would come down to their ability to adapt on the spot.
As Hermione stepped out, the cold evening wind slipped in and made the torchlight flicker.
"Wait—take this."
Sean spoke up, breaking the tension.
"What is it?"
Hermione held the smooth mirror up, curious.
"A variant of the two-way mirror. It works like a telephone. I call it a Magic Hand Mirror."
Sean faced the two of them, mirror-smooth glass catching the torchlight.
"Sean—you mean…?" Hermione's eyes lit up.
"Really? That's unbelievable!" Justin breathed.
"It's real." Sean smiled faintly and nodded.