Sean needed to start dealing with his old senior's curse.
That was a task full of obstacles. Faced with Tom Riddle's curse, no wizard could guarantee they'd be able to undo it.
But even more urgent than that—he needed rest.
From entering the Headmaster's office, to destroying the Horcrux, to returning to Hogwarts Castle… a full day had passed.
After storing away the Resurrection Stone, still tainted by its curse, Sean fell into sleep.
When he woke, a portion of the students had already left Hogwarts.
The Easter holiday had begun. Students usually had two weeks off. Some would go home, and the Hogwarts Express would run for that purpose.
It was the train that travelled between London's King's Cross Station and Hogsmeade Station, making the trip about six times a year.
And another portion of students—of course—were heading to Hogsmeade to have fun.
Now the Great Hall was full of that kind of chatter: cheerful voices everywhere, excitedly planning what they'd do in Hogsmeade today.
Sean quietly unwrapped his Easter eggs.
One of them was from Mrs. Weasley.
Beside him, Harry and Ron had eggs about the size of dragon eggs, stuffed with homemade toffee.
But Sean's egg was bigger than the table itself. The moment he saw it, his eyes widened slightly and he looked at Whitey.
The snow-white owl was so exhausted it couldn't even move.
Some of the eggs were even more interesting.
The egg from the farm hid brilliant candy wrappers, a still-warm pumpkin pie, and a perfectly sealed cup of milk.
Grandpa Marcus was always worried about Hogwarts' ingredients.
He clung to an old belief: food raised in Hogwarts' large-scale enclosures wasn't as good as what you raised on a farm.
He loved boasting that the farm had the best milk in Scotland—and, surprisingly enough, The Times seemed to agree.
The farm had even won competitions. Professor McGonagall, without looking up, said that was only because the old wizard had cheated and used magic.
Besides the farm egg, Sean also received eggs from the outskirts of London, from Hogsmeade Village… and of course, the largest pile came from Hogwarts itself.
While Sean was still unwrapping gifts, owls flooded into the Great Hall.
During holidays, there were naturally more letters.
But before long, the students' discussions became… loud—too loud.
And they split into two clear factions.
The students who were about to go to Hogsmeade were overjoyed, waving copies of The Daily Prophet and spreading the news.
The students who couldn't go were devastated, watching older students with pure envy.
"Sean, did you see this? Merlin's beard! The Magic Hand Mirror—a revolutionary invention—"
Ron rattled off the Daily Prophet's description and shoved the paper into Sean's hands.
"Instant calls, world-wide coverage, connecting your life…"
Harry read the ad copy aloud, and it gave him a strange sense of familiarity.
Sean took the paper. It was obvious that most of The Daily Prophet's front pages had been swallowed by a single story.
[The future greatest wizard's latest masterpiece—an incredible creation that changes how the wizarding world communicates!]
[Diagon Alley's most mysterious shop expands for the first time—opening in five countries and in Hogsmeade Village simultaneously!]
[The best Easter gift—does your child still not have a pair of magic hand mirrors?]
The flood of glossy, salesy copy made you wonder if this was even The Daily Prophet anymore.
"My dad says the Ministry wants to buy these in bulk, but that mysterious alchemist will only sell them thirty sets—and claims production is limited. The first batch was only three hundred—"
Ron clutched a letter, astonished.
"The more I look at these photos…"
Harry stared at the pictures in the paper and found they looked an awful lot like the mirror in his bag.
"I'd only ever heard of two-way mirrors before, but those things are terrifyingly expensive," Ron whispered.
"How expensive?" Harry asked.
"Over a hundred Galleons!"
Ron spread his hands wide.
"Yeah… that's expensive," Harry and Sean agreed.
"So this has to be some kind of two-way mirror. It has to cost at least…"
Ron frowned hard, thinking.
"Seven…"
Harry waited. Even Sean looked at him.
"Seven hundred—no, at least three hundred Galleons!" Ron declared with absolute confidence.
"Three hundred?!" Harry yelped.
His dream broom—the Firebolt 2001—only cost a few hundred Galleons.
"Could be even more! The craft and materials for two-way mirrors have been lost for ages," Ron said solemnly, as though delivering expert testimony.
Harry didn't reply.
He sat down and pulled a mirror from his bag.
He compared it carefully with the advertisement photo, deep in thought.
"Harry?" Ron leaned in, curious.
"You bought one?!" Ron shouted.
"If I'm not wrong, you've got one too," Harry said.
Ron froze—like his brain couldn't decide whether that sentence was English.
"Have you opened your Easter present yet?" Harry asked.
"Not yet. You mean—"
Ron suddenly sensed what was coming and tore into his gift.
After a moment, he held up a mirror, staring at it as if it might bite.
Ripples spread across its surface, and several strange little figures appeared:
Sean quietly reading; a much smaller Professor McGonagall; a friendly badger; a chubby Neville; Ron with two massive chicken legs stuffed in his mouth; and a tiny Harry.
"When did I ever have two chicken legs that big in my mouth?" Ron's face went bright red.
"Back in the Great Hall, remember?" Harry tried to help him recall.
"Oh, Harry, I really don't want to remember," Ron said, mortified.
The Great Hall roared with noise—and Sean had already slipped away.
Professor Terra had just called for him. Sean knew it would be about the magic hand mirrors.
His figure grew distant along the corridor, but only a few minutes later he stopped and opened his own hand mirror.
Hermione's face appeared—ears pink, expression fierce:
"Sean!"
It was probably about the "Mini McGonagall" thing.
"Sean—happy Easter," the second face said. It was Justin.
"Ah, Sean—Merlin—this is unbelievable. It's really you! You invented the magic hand mirror! And it's seven-way! The Ministry can't even buy one… of course they can't, because they're all with us."
The third and fourth faces were Ron and Harry, both yelling over each other with excitement.
Each of them filled a slice of the mirror's surface—until a big, round face suddenly popped up and squeezed everyone smaller.
"Sean—Hermione—Justin—Harry—Ron…"
Neville stammered out greetings, looking completely overwhelmed.
~~~
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