"Show proper respect for Mr. Green, you big lug!" Will roared, loosing an arrow that punched clean through the tree beside Hagrid.
"Sh— I mean, didn't Mr. Green tell you I'd be coming back?" Hagrid said, aggrieved.
"Mr. Green told me that once the owner returned, my duty would be finished," Will said, chin lifted.
The way he said Mr. Green made it sound like carrying out a task for him was the greatest honor imaginable.
"I am the owner!" Hagrid shouted, suddenly hopeful.
"Well, Mr. Green didn't say that—" Will snapped, angling the arrow straight at Hagrid's forehead.
"You thick-headed fairy—why don't you just ask?!" Hagrid growled.
By Will's logic, the owner could go in… but he didn't know who the owner was—so nobody could go in at all!
"You pot-bellied mole! And you dare presume to interpret Mr. Green's intentions?!" Will bellowed back without yielding an inch.
Sean watched silently from the edge of the grass. A silver-feathered owl landed on his shoulder, carrying "Mr. Owl" in its beak like a corpse.
Mr. Owl wasn't hurt—just utterly exhausted.
He'd fought Whitey—still in owl form—for three full rounds, and any lingering thought of "measuring up" had been thoroughly crushed.
If he'd ever seen Whitey's earlier feat—beating down dozens of owls and then landing on Sean's shoulder like a conquering hero—he probably wouldn't have dared entertain the idea in the first place.
"Whitey," Sean said, tapping the owl's head with a finger.
"Goo-goo-goo…" Whitey complained.
The Forbidden Forest was quiet, save for Hagrid and Will's standoff.
Then both of them turned toward the grass as a young wizard stepped out.
"Will—this is the owner of the hut. Hagrid," Sean said.
"Ah! Please come in, Mr. Hagrid!" Will instantly switched faces, stepping aside with perfect deference.
Completely different from a moment ago.
Hagrid scratched his head, his curiosity about this goblin-like creature suddenly skyrocketing.
It really was stubborn as a brick.
"Come on in, Sean—and you too, Will," Hagrid called warmly.
His black beard shone with a greasy gloss, and he wore a long beaver-fur coat. The moment he saw Sean, his face split into a delighted grin.
Inside, the fireplace was cozy. Hagrid drank eggnog and launched into the heart-pounding tale of everything that had happened at the Ministry.
"…Fudge didn't want to drop the case—said it'd be a huge blow to the Ministry. But then he changed his mind…
Professor Dumbledore showed up, and he'd heard about what you lot did from the papers—by the way, you said in the paper I'm your best friend. Is that true?
In the end the Ministry agreed… oh, and Fudge told me to pass along his regards—what good is that?
Once he agreed, the Wizengamot reopened the case—you know the Wizengamot? The highest court in the wizarding world.
If you don't, that's fine. They were even talking about making you a youth representative, but they couldn't find you—Professor Dumbledore won't let anyone into Hogwarts…"
Hagrid had been away from Hogwarts for a long time, and it was like he was determined to pour out every word he'd been holding in.
Sean listened quietly, nodding now and then.
"Hagrid… that must've been hard," Sean said.
"Hard? Not at all! I'd walk into the Ministry three more times if it's for news like this!" Hagrid beamed, the firelight turning his big face rosy red.
"But there was trouble too—they kicked the whole thing around like a Quaffle," he added, his beard bunching as he frowned.
"But you handled it brilliantly," Sean said.
"Course I did… course I did…" Hagrid laughed, hearty and unguarded.
By the time they'd talked a while longer, the moon was hanging high over the treetops. Hagrid, still reluctant to end the night, finally saw Sean off.
He stood outside the hut, waving his huge hand, watching the young wizard's figure vanish into the ink-dark forest.
Back in the castle corridors, Sean headed quietly toward Ravenclaw Tower.
Hagrid and Lockhart were finished—for now.
As for what Hagrid had mentioned outside Hogwarts, like the Wizengamot's invitation, Sean had no interest.
This was the wizarding world. And magic was the foundation of everything.
More than doing an interview about today's Transfiguration lesson, or publishing an alchemy handbook, Sean would rather push his Charms to Expert first.
He opened his status panel:
Levitation Charm: Master (600/?)
Finite Incantatem: Expert (1201/9000)
Silencing Charm: Expert (1011/9000)
Disillusionment Charm: Expert (2380/9000)
Advance: Twelve Expert-level charms or five Master-level charms unlock the Expert title in Charms.
With his original talent, reaching Expert in Charms would've taken at least until third year.
But with Ravenclaw's personal guidance now folded into him, Sean was confident he could advance in second year.
The problem was choosing which five spells to push into Master.
Now that raw difficulty wasn't the biggest headache—since even Protego no longer felt like the insurmountable wall it once had—what stood in front of him was selection: the right spells.
Sean thought as the night deepened.
Patronus Charm. Shield Charm. Legilimency.
His parchment whispered scratch-scratch-scratch as he wrote those three at the top of his notes.
The Patronus was for next term. The Shield Charm—an all-purpose defensive staple—was non-negotiable.
And Legilimency… that belonged to a different line of research altogether.
…
Hogwarts fell into heavy sleep. Only the occasional owl cut through the air, wings brushing the wind with a faint hiss.
Then Sean's two-way mirror rippled.
He pulled it out. The tabby cat on the other side had stopped grooming itself.
The instant Professor McGonagall's furious face appeared, Sean immediately called his Pukwudgie butler.
He'd almost forgotten again…
"Sean Green." McGonagall said sternly, her eyes sweeping over the surroundings.
"Professor."
The Pukwudgie butler retreated back into the Wizard's Book—and Sean vanished, reappearing on his hospital bed as if he'd never left.
Nearby, Madam Pomfrey rubbed her eyes, muttered "Odd," and then didn't bother with it.
She was a healer. The patient was back. How he'd gotten back…?
She'd seen far too many strange methods around Dumbledore to waste time being shocked.
"Mm." McGonagall's expression softened.
They sat in silence. The last snow of winter was finally melting away.
Hogwarts no longer felt as bitterly cold as before, and Sean no longer needed to keep wrapping himself in scarves from every witch and wizard who tried to press one on him.
"Professor… can you teach me the Patronus Charm?" Sean asked suddenly.
~~~
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