Halloween Eve.
The moment he woke up that morning, Sean found himself even busier than usual.
When he walked into the Great Hall, he saw it decorated with hundreds upon hundreds of candlelit pumpkins, great flocks of live bats swooping through the air, and countless orange banners wreathed in flame.
The banners drifted lazily beneath the storm-brewing ceiling like brilliantly colored water snakes.
The food was excellent. Justin and Ron both had their cheeks stuffed full.
Even Hermione, who was still in the middle of her cold war with Ron, couldn't help laughing.
Sean's brow relaxed slightly, and he looked toward the staff table.
Headmaster Dumbledore still wore his usual kindly expression. Every so often, he pinched the bridge of his crooked nose, looking lost in memory.
Dumbledore's nose had always been bent, and Sean knew exactly whose handiwork that was.
He shifted his gaze and opened a book with a golden cover.
The Wizard's Book.
Some glass fragments drifted out of it, wobbling in the air.
Dumbledore had given them to Sean.
Very few wizards would know what those fragments meant.
Other than that they could be pieced together into a broken glass bottle, perhaps?
Maybe they would be right. Those shards really could be assembled into a splendid silver glass token.
The Blood Pact.
It symbolized an ancient, rare, and mysterious form of magic.
Its physical form was an ornate silver token shaped like a vial.
Its design was intricate and elaborate, with a silver ornamental framework wrapped around a glass vessel at its core.
Just as Sean knew well, before it was broken, two drops of blood floated inside the vial, entwined but never merging.
They symbolized the life and magic of the two wizards who had sworn the pact.
So when the holder of the pact tried to break the oath, the token would blaze with fierce light, and the magic of the contract would intervene in physical form.
A supremely reliable magic. Not even the strongest wizard could escape its control.
And Headmaster Dumbledore had given those fragments to him.
Sean thought it over.
Did Headmaster Dumbledore no longer hate Grindelwald? Or was he forcing himself to do this just to find Sean a teacher?
Sean couldn't make sense of it, but he knew one thing: with these fragments in hand, Nurmengard would likely welcome him this coming summer.
As for Grindelwald…
In the wide Great Hall, he clearly wasn't the only one remembering that name.
Dumbledore's gaze turned deep as he looked down at the assistant below. The boy was staring blankly at the fragments.
It was easy to tell when he was spacing out. The moment his mind drifted, the book in his hands always tilted just a little.
"He'll be alright…"
Dumbledore sighed softly.
The person standing atop a high tower could stir the ambitions of any wizard with dreams of greatness, could muddy any stream, but he could not stain the sea itself.
Sometimes Dumbledore lowered his eyes, full of inquiry.
Where others were like flowers on display, like birds in song, like shy mimosa plants, the young wizard seemed more like sand, or snow.
Suffering and temptation had written on him again and again, yet with the faintest brush, he smoothed it all away.
A soft hooting sound rose.
From beyond the mountains, a messenger had arrived.
A white-tailed owl crossed the Alps and the North Sea and landed on Dumbledore's fingertips.
Even the sea, fierce and cold with storms, had not been able to stop the messenger's burning wings.
Dumbledore lowered his head and took up a quill in his old, knotted fingers.
[Send to…]
…
Tomorrow was Hogsmeade weekend, and today every Head of House was collecting permission slips.
Charms class had just ended, and the Ravenclaws were already eagerly stuffing their slips into Professor Flitwick's arms.
"That's right, children, don't forget anyone—"
Professor Flitwick reminded them kindly, then caught hold of Michael.
"Mr. Corner, have you forgotten something?"
Michael stumbled as he was pulled back. He was clutching a newly released Weird Wizards Chess set and clearly hadn't registered what was happening.
"Oh, right! Professor, thank you."
Michael quickly pulled out his permission slip from his bag, blushing slightly.
"It's quite alright, Mr. Corner. Happy Halloween?"
Professor Flitwick said with a smile.
"Happy Halloween, Professor."
Michael hurried off.
Next came Sean. He was just about to hand his slip over when Professor Flitwick drew back his hand.
"Mr. Green, you've brought it to the wrong person."
There was even more laughter in Professor Flitwick's eyes now.
"Mhm… hm?"
Sean looked levelly at the professor and began wondering whether the Sorting Hat had put him in the wrong House after all.
"So the Sorting Hat really…"
Sean was cut off by Professor Flitwick, who looked surprised.
"Off you go, Mr. Green, what are you thinking? Oh, I'm terribly busy here…"
Professor Flitwick pushed the young wizard away.
Sean stood quietly in the doorway for a moment, and then he understood.
In Herbology class, Hermione and Ron were still giving each other the silent treatment.
They had barely said a word to one another, even though Sean, Ron, and Hermione had all been grouped together to shell Bubotuber pods.
Harry, meanwhile, had been paired with Neville, who was very interested in Aurors and kept pestering him with questions.
"How did your permission slip go?"
Hermione asked Sean as they plucked swollen pink pods off the Bubotuber vines, shelled out the glistening beans inside, and dropped them into a wooden bucket.
Then she glanced back at Ron.
"I hand it in next class."
Sean answered.
"But next class is Transfiguration."
Ron leaned closer to Sean as he said it, glaring defiantly at Hermione.
Sean looked at the two of them. The two sulking friends had turned his corner of the room into a battlefield.
But he had no interest in that, so he simply went over to help Professor Sprout deal with the plants.
That left only Hermione and Ron glaring at each other across their little patch of workspace.
As usual, his Herbology proficiency rose a little.
On the way to Transfiguration, Sean began thinking about Hogsmeade.
It was the only all-wizarding village in Britain, inhabited by all sorts of witches and wizards.
Ordinarily, none of them would have had much to do with Sean, but now there was one wizard there he needed to meet.
The owner of the Hog's Head.
Besides that, Lupin had mentioned that wizarding life had changed a little recently, and that Hogsmeade itself had taken on a completely new look.
When Lupin said it, his eyes had never left Sean.
That made Sean curious.
Conveniently, he needed to go to Hogsmeade anyway, and from there to Diagon Alley.
He just didn't yet know what those "changes" were supposed to mean.
After Herbology came Transfiguration. Hermione and Ron kept whispering and bickering, glaring daggers at each other.
Fortunately, Professor McGonagall opened the classroom door just then.
"Before class begins, students of Gryffindor House, don't forget to hand your Hogsmeade permission slips to me before Halloween. No slip, no visit. Do not forget."