Chapter 541: The Soon-to-Open Inner Eye
The chatter in the Great Hall showed no sign of stopping. Hermione had been
whispering frantically to Sean about Sirius Black's supposed "evil design."
"If he knows where we are, he'll come back, Sean... there's no doubt about it.
He's here to kill Harry. Poor Harry... someone is always trying to take his
life."
Hermione bit her lip, glancing back and forth between the slashed portrait of
the Fat Lady and Harry's worried face.
"It'll be alright, Hermione," Sean reassured her. Her anxious gaze suddenly
sharpened with resolve.
"We have to find him, Sean—" she whispered. "Get Justin. Just like we did
before. We need to clear every one of the Dark Lord's cronies out of this
castle."
"No need to call for me—"
Justin suddenly emerged from behind a nearby portrait.
"You promised not to use those secret passages anymore..." Hermione said,
looking more annoyed than surprised.
"Desperate times, dear Miss Granger," Justin grinned, giving a small,
mock-gentlemanly bow.
"Get over here—"
Hermione didn't argue. She stole a quick look at the group of professors
gathered near the doors. When she saw they hadn't noticed Justin's sudden
appearance, she let out a sigh of relief.
"The thing is..." Hermione looked back at Sean. "The Club has organized dozens
of search parties to find our 'Messenger of Luck,' but we haven't found him.
Instead..."
"We've nearly mapped out every secret passage in the castle," Justin finished
for her.
He handed Sean a hand-drawn map. Sean scanned it, noting the tireless,
day-and-night activity of the school's largest club. It seemed they had gained
more than just exercise. On the map, he saw a passage leading toward the fifth
floor—right where Sir Cadogan had supposedly fallen and couldn't get back up.
Sean's mind drifted to Sir Cadogan. To prevent the Fat Lady from being
traumatized by Sirius's "visit," Sean had made a wager with the knight. He had
bet that the knight wouldn't dare drink thirty bottles of butterbeer in front of
Lady Violet.
Now, it seemed the knight had won. Sean would have to pay up with a very
specific line of praise.
"Do you have a plan?" Justin asked, noticing Sean was lost in thought.
"Of course," Hermione whispered. "Once tonight is over, we find that knight's
portrait. He chased the intruder; he must have seen something. I bet he fell
because he was hit with a powerful curse..."
"I suspect you're right," Justin nodded.
"So, Sean, do you think—wait, where's Sean?" Hermione looked around.
"I... I don't know," Justin said, though his eyes remained fixed on a portrait
on the left that had just clicked shut.
The secret passage was pitch black. Sean reached out a hand and gave a sharp tap
to the air; a soft, golden light erupted from his fingertips.
Was the reason for Sir Cadogan's fall a dark curse? Sean highly doubted it.
Knowing the knight, he was simply drunk.
Still, he needed to find the knight and confirm Sirius's status. If Sirius's
Animagus form had been compromised, Dumbledore would have him in a cell before
the hour was out. And if Sirius was sent back to Azkaban, he wasn't likely to
escape a second time.
Sean pushed open the exit to the passage and found Sir Cadogan sprawled
face-down on the painted grass of his frame. He was covered in mud and let out a
rhythmic, whistling snore. Lady Violet was hovering over him, trying to pull him
up by his pauldrons, but the metal was too heavy.
"Mr. Green!" Lady Violet gasped, her face lighting up with relief.
Sean gave a polite nod to the lady in the silk dress. He flicked a finger toward
the frame, and the mud-stained knight was magically hoisted into the air.
Standard magic didn't usually affect portraits this way, but Sean had a very
knowledgeable historical figure as a mentor, and he had learned the specific
resonance required.
"Sir?" Sean called.
"Cowardly cur! I shall duel thee for a fortnight!" the knight bellowed, his
armor clanking. His voice was deafening in the empty corridor.
"Sir Cadogan," Sean said again.
"Is that your voice, little Green? Oh! Did you see him? That knave! That master
of deception! He managed to bypass..."
The knight continued his rant toward Lady Violet. Sean and the Lady shared a
look; the knight was clearly too disoriented to make sense.
Fortunately, through the knight's rambling, Sean gathered that Sirius hadn't
been unmasked. But he knew Sirius would be back. The man was desperate to watch
Harry's first Quidditch match. He was Harry's godfather, after all.
We need to speed things up, Sean thought. The trip to Hogsmeade was now more
critical than ever. If he was lucky, he'd be able to secure the ancient
contracts from Gringotts.
When Sean returned to the Great Hall, he saw Headmaster Dumbledore ordering all
Gryffindors to the floor. Ten minutes later, the Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and
Slytherins filed in, their faces masks of confusion.
"The staff and I will be conducting a thorough search of the castle," Dumbledore
announced. Professors McGonagall and Flitwick began sealing the Great Hall
doors. "For your own safety, you will spend the night here. I expect the
Prefects to guard the entrances, and I place the Head Boy and Girl in charge.
Report any issues to me immediately."
Dumbledore turned to a puffing, self-important Percy Weasley. "Send a ghost if
there is news."
The Headmaster paused as he reached the doors. "Oh, and one more thing. You'll
be needing..."
He gave his wand a casual wave. The long House tables zoomed toward the walls,
stacking themselves neatly. With another flick, hundreds of soft, purple
sleeping bags materialized on the stone floor.
Dumbledore scanned the room, his eyes twinkling. He paused when his gaze reached
Sean.
Sean watched the Headmaster's movements with intense focus. His [Master] level
Transfiguration told him that this was high-tier magic. Moving the tables used
"Matter-to-Magic" conversion—the tables weren't being levitated; they were
following a pre-set magical path.
As for the sleeping bags... Sean noticed that several decorative items from the
tables had vanished. Dumbledore had performed hundreds of simultaneous
Transfigurations in the blink of an eye.
That isn't Master level, Sean realized. That's something else entirely.
"Sleep well. And you, our dear Teaching Assistant, please follow me," Dumbledore
said.
Sean followed the Headmaster out, and the heavy doors clicked shut behind them.
Inside the hall, the silence lasted for about three seconds before erupting into
a cacophony of whispers.
"Everyone into your sleeping bags!" Percy bellowed. "No more talking! Lights out
in ten minutes!"
"Over here," Ron whispered to Harry, Hermione, and the others. They dragged five
sleeping bags into a corner.
"What do they want with Sean?" Hermione whispered, her eyes full of worry.
"Dumbledore thinks Black is still in the castle. It's dangerous."
"Dangerous?" Ron let out a low chuckle. Before he could finish, he let out a
muffled yelp.
Hermione had just poked him with her wand.
"Ow! Honestly—you lot actually think Sean is the one in danger?" Ron asked, his
voice turning serious. "I'd say Sean is way more dangerous than Black ever was.
Have you forgotten he killed a Basilisk with a sword? And that was ages ago!"
Harry froze. He looked at Ron, and Hagrid's words from the previous year echoed
in his mind:
"You askin' about Green, Harry? Well, I tell ya, I sleep easy knowin' the Forest
is in that boy's hands. The creatures treat 'im like a king... mind you, I wish
he'd stop castin' them spells that shake the very trees. You ever seen a wizard
with that much talent? He's gonna pass Dumbledore one day, mark my words. Never
seen anyone sling spells like a Professor at his age..."
Hagrid's blunt honesty made Harry realize a fact they had all been
subconsciously ignoring. He looked toward the doors. The shadow of the young
wizard was still visible on the frosted glass. Even though Sean wasn't much
taller than them, his silhouette seemed to loom over the hallway.
"Hagrid said..." Harry's voice was hoarse.
The group turned to him.
"He said Sean's magic is already on par with the Professors."
The group went silent. The vague impression they had of their "extraordinary
friend" was finally overlapping with the image of an authority figure. They
accepted it, but it took a long time for the shock to settle.
In the Corridor.
"Headmaster," Sean said.
"My dear Assistant Green. I suppose being a Professor is a bit different from
being a student, isn't it?" Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled with amusement.
"Perhaps," Sean replied.
"I suspect we should check in with our friend the Knight first, though I have a
feeling he isn't the only one in this castle who knows a secret or two..."
Dumbledore beamed at Sean. Sean said nothing.
"Come then, my dear Assistant. Let us go ask the good Sir..."
Dumbledore didn't get much out of Sir Cadogan. Halfway through the search, they
were intercepted by Professor Snape.
"Headmaster?" Snape drawled, his voice like ice. "The fourth floor is clear. He
isn't there. Filch has checked the dungeons and the lower classrooms. Nothing."
"And the Astronomy Tower? Trelawney's rooms? The Owlery?" Dumbledore asked.
"All searched."
"Excellent, Severus. I didn't expect Black to linger."
"Have you considered how he got in, Professor?" Snape asked.
"I have many theories, Severus, and each is as unlikely as the last."
"Do you remember our conversation?" Snape's lips barely moved. "Before the term
started?"
"I remember, Severus," Dumbledore said, his voice carrying a note of warning.
"For Black to enter this school without inside help is... impossible. I
expressed my concerns when you appointed—"
"I do not believe a single person in this castle would help Sirius Black enter,"
Dumbledore said firmly.
"And yet—" Snape's face remained a cold mask.
"What do you think, Assistant Green?" Dumbledore asked, suddenly turning his
gaze to Sean.
A thin mist was beginning to rise in the corridor. Sean looked at the smiling
Headmaster, then at the scowling Snape.
He chose silence.
"Ah, even the most prophetic among us chooses silence, Severus. That suggests
the situation is not yet dire." Dumbledore stroked his beard, his tone making it
clear the subject was closed.
Snape shot a lingering look at Sean but said nothing more.
"I must go down and speak with the Dementors," Dumbledore said. "I promised to
inform them when the search was complete."
"Aren't they here to 'help,' Albus?" Snape sneered.
"Oh, they are," Dumbledore said coldly. "But as long as I am Headmaster, not a
single Dementor shall cross the threshold of this castle."
Dumbledore strode away, his footsteps silent. Snape stood for a moment, watching
the Headmaster's back with a look of deep, complex coldness.
"Go back, Green," Snape said, turning on his heel.
Inside the Great Hall, the students were still debating.
"How did he get in?" "Maybe he knows how to Apparate?" a Ravenclaw suggested.
"Just popped in from thin air." "Maybe he used a disguise," a fifth-year
Hufflepuff added. "He could have flown in," Dean Thomas said.
"Everyone into your bags and SHUT UP!" Percy yelled. "Oh... except for you, Mr.
Green. Please, carry on."
The candles went out. Only the silver ghosts provided a faint, pearly light as
they drifted among the sleeping bags, talking in low, serious tones with the
Prefects.
The enchanted ceiling was a perfect mirror of the night sky, dotted with a
thousand stars. Listening to the distant whispers of the hall, Sean felt as
though he were sleeping in an open field.
He could see the faint mist rising from the floor, invisible to the other
students. He thought of many things: Trelawney's "Inner Eye," and the lead Leta
had given him about a certain witch's whereabouts.
If the Inner Eye truly was meant to open, Sean suspected it would be tonight.
After all, it was time for him to see the stars in the Lands Between.
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