After Professor Snape took over Defence Against the Dark Arts as a temporary substitute, the students' lives were no longer so relaxed.
On top of preparing for final exams, they also had to deal with the pile of complicated homework Snape assigned.
Luckily, Easter was almost here, and the students could finally catch their breath.
The Great Hall had been decorated as usual with all kinds of ribbons. The enormous pumpkins Hagrid had grown were carved into lanterns—each one big enough to seat three people inside.
Sean was nowhere to be seen all day; even Hermione and Justin couldn't find him.
Naturally, he was busy.
The Magic Hand Mirror was about to launch this Easter, and he needed to provide Fairy Tale Shop with some "high-end products."
For example, a multi-mirror set that allowed multiple witches and wizards to speak at the same time;
For example, a Magic Hand Mirror that could store voice messages;
And for example…
"This is necessary, my dear apprentice. Alchemists scorn fighting—but when conflict arrives, they should also have the ability to control their own creations."
Professor Tayra's eyes flashed with a sharp glint.
"I… understand, Professor."
Sean stared at the modified Magic Hand Mirror.
Its materials and manufacturing technique hadn't changed one bit—this was Sean's original alchemical ritual. Even Professor Tayra would need a lot of time to fully understand it, let alone the witches and wizards working in the workshop.
So what, exactly, had been changed?
Of course: a tiny, harmless self-destruct routine.
Accurate transmission of information mattered. Both Tayra and Sean understood that.
So when necessary, Sean could use that small magical circuit to sever the communications network of the future.
He still didn't know what consequences that circuit might bring, but Tayra's words made him think.
So even "phones"—even magical phones—couldn't escape the fate of having information stolen, or of having their networks destroyed?
"The world has never been fair, my dear apprentice.
But magic is fair. If a wizard gives their talent, sweat, and soul, they can obtain everything they want.
That's especially true in alchemy."
Professor Tayra was pleased that Sean hadn't insisted on something so pointless.
"Professor… is there magic that can steal information?"
Sean asked cautiously.
"Oh? A good idea. I'll inform the workshop to add it."
Professor Tayra looked intrigued.
"I think that won't be necessary, Professor."
Sean shook his head.
Maybe it was because he rarely shook his head so forcefully, or maybe because her teasing had gotten the perfect reaction—either way, Olivia was in a very good mood.
Her apprentice was a blank sheet of paper.
So when it was time to add ink, she would have to be the one to do it.
With Professor Tayra's approval, Sean's time was split evenly between study and alchemy.
Of course, there was also a small investigation—an investigation into Malfoy. That was something Sean and Headmaster Dumbledore had been working on all along.
…
In the blink of an eye, it was the last day before Easter.
That morning, something special happened: Justin had somehow bought a Pensieve. The silvery threads inside fascinated Harry.
Justin was always generous. He shared the Pensieve with Harry—and that led to something none of them could have predicted.
"It was Malfoy!"
Harry suddenly roared, startling everyone.
"What Malfoy?" Ron asked, covering his ears.
"Lucius Malfoy—he put the diary into Ginny's pocket. He wanted Ginny dead!"
Harry looked at Ron, fists clenched.
"What?! I knew something was wrong with him! Think about it—who would hurt Ginny? That diary didn't just appear out of thin air!"
Ron's eyes went red with rage as he shouted, "He's a Death Eater—his whole family is! My dad always knew there was something wrong with him, always wanted to catch him, and now he's taking revenge—damn him, he actually dared to set his sights on Ginny.
My dad will kill him, I swear it!"
Even in their fury, Harry and Ron still looked toward where Sean normally sat—he wasn't there, and the atmosphere froze for a moment.
"What did you say? Harry, you understand you're responsible for what you just said, right?"
Hermione asked urgently.
"Look for yourself, Hermione!"
Harry was too angry to say anything more.
Justin, Hermione, Neville, and Ron all leaned in toward the Pensieve. They finally managed to use it.
When they pulled themselves back out of the memory threads, none of them could speak for a long time.
"He needs to be punished," Justin said.
"Find Sean," Hermione said.
Ron and Harry had calmed down too—when it came to finding Sean, the two of them always had an uncanny shared instinct.
But unfortunately, with Sean's recent habit of disappearing—and with none of them being Ravenclaws—they couldn't find any trace of him.
Just as Justin decided to use the Magic Hand Mirror to locate Sean, the second-to-last match of the season—the fifth match—was about to begin.
Gryffindor versus Slytherin.
Somehow, after Slytherin complained about something, the school actually agreed to a rematch, because the Bludger in the previous game had been clearly tampered with.
"It had to be Malfoy—his dad's on the Board!"
Ron said furiously.
Harry nodded in agreement.
Their expressions made Hermione and Justin even more worried.
This year, aside from their first loss, Slytherin—thanks to Malfoy's sponsorship of Nimbus 2001s—had built up a full two-hundred-point lead in the league. That meant Harry's team would have to win by more than two hundred points to take the Cup.
And that meant most of the pressure landed on Harry, because catching the Golden Snitch was worth one hundred and fifty points.
"So you can only catch it when we're at least fifty points ahead," Wood kept telling Harry before the match. "Only when we're fifty points ahead, Harry—otherwise we'll win the game but lose the Cup. Do you understand? You have to catch the Snitch, but only when we—"
"I get it, Oliver!"
Harry yelled.
The attitude surprised everyone—but it made Wood even happier.
"That's it, Harry—like a fighter!"
All of Gryffindor had their hearts tied to the coming match.
Ever since the era of the legendary Charlie Weasley (Ron's second brother) as Seeker, Gryffindor still hadn't won the Quidditch Cup.
But Harry suspected no one—not even Wood—wanted to win as badly as he did right now.
His hostility toward Malfoy had reached a boiling point.
Harry hadn't forgotten the Basilisk in the Chamber, the students teetering on the edge of danger, and Ginny nearly dying.
There was a debt he had to settle with Malfoy.
In everyone's memory, no match had ever arrived with the air so thick with gunpowder.
~~~
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