The next morning, Draco dragged himself to class looking utterly exhausted. In the early hours, he had spent over an hour in the Room of Requirement searching for the diadem, only to come up empty-handed again.
Pansy sat at the desk in front of him. Taking advantage of Professor Flitwick not paying attention, she turned around and whispered, "Draco, you look really tired these past couple of days."
"Do I? Probably just didn't sleep well," Draco brushed it off.
"Is it because Crabbe and Goyle are too noisy at night?" Pansy glanced at the two bulky boys sitting on either side of him.
"It must be Crabbe snoring," Goyle said.
"Bullshit, I don't snore. It's definitely you," Crabbe shot back.
"It has nothing to do with them," Draco cut in, clearly unwilling to continue the topic.
At that moment, Sean was in History of Magic. Even though he had angered Professor Binns back in first year, the ghost professor had long since returned to treating him like any other student.
This class was shared between Slytherin and Hufflepuff. Bored out of his mind, Cassius leaned over and whispered to Sean, "Did you know Hufflepuff's Quidditch team is planning to groom Cedric as next year's captain?"
"I know," Sean replied.
Cassius blinked in surprise. "You know? I thought you didn't care about Quidditch."
"I don't care, but I have my sources," Sean said mysteriously.
Once Quidditch was mentioned, Cassius perked up immediately. "Then do you know Draco's getting into our team?"
"So he's already talked to your captain, Marcus?" Sean said casually.
"Let me tell you, the Malfoys are insanely rich. I can't even imagine what it's like. Draco said his family is willing to buy every team member a brand-new Nimbus 2001." Cassius's eyes gleamed with undisguised envy.
Team selections would take place on the second weekend after school started, but only two days into term, Draco had already secured his spot.
In truth, Draco's skills alone would have been enough to get him in. Over the summer, he had told his parents he wanted to join the Slytherin team. Narcissa, worried he might not make it, had gone all out and pre-ordered seven Nimbus 2001s, ensuring his place through sheer wealth.
Naturally, Draco didn't refuse. It was the perfect opportunity to show off. Once his teammates were all using brooms bought by his family, how could they not treat him with respect?
Sean chatted idly with Cassius, but his attention remained fixed on the book lying on his desk. It wasn't the textbook he was focused on—it was an unremarkable-looking notebook.
After History of Magic, the next class was Transfiguration with Gryffindor. Carrying his books with a calm expression, Sean entered the classroom.
He quickly scanned the room, his gaze landing on the Weasley twins. "Sorry, you two," he thought.
Deliberately, Sean took a seat by the aisle. On one side sat Slytherin, on the other Gryffindor—and directly across from him were Fred and George.
Even in their own Head of House's class, the twins didn't dare act up too much. Though they still fidgeted and whispered, they were far more restrained than usual.
"Before we begin Intermediate Transfiguration, let's review basic Transfiguration," Professor McGonagall announced from the front.
She gestured to a chair beside her. "Each of you will come up and turn this chair into an animal."
"Oh no, does this count as a test?" Cassius groaned.
Sean, however, thought, "Perfect."
"We'll start with you," McGonagall said, pointing to a Slytherin student in the front row. From there, she proceeded down the line.
Chris, seated in front of Sean, stepped up and transformed the chair into a golden retriever. The details were impeccable—the facial features, body structure, even the texture of the fur.
"My turn," Sean said, rising to his feet.
For him, turning an inanimate object into a living creature was trivial. He had already mastered Animagus transformation. With a flick of his wand, he cast the spell.
"Vera Verto."
The chair began to morph visibly. Within two seconds, the half-meter-tall chair had transformed into a one-and-a-half-meter-tall ostrich.
Sean subtly guided the ostrich toward the aisle. McGonagall smiled but didn't stop him, and the students watched with amusement.
The ostrich flapped its large wings as it waddled forward, knocking over books from the desks it passed. When it reached the row where the Weasley twins sat, George's book was swept to the floor.
Following closely behind, Sean took the opportunity to discreetly cast a levitation charm, slipping the notebook into George's pile of books.
"That's enough, Sean. Next," McGonagall said.
According to her plan, each student had about half a minute. Afterward, the actual lesson would begin.
"My turn…" Cassius muttered nervously as he stepped forward.
"Vera Verto."
The chair turned into a pig—but not a proper one. Its hind legs were still chair legs. A clear failure.
McGonagall shook her head. Cassius hurried back to his seat, already making excuses. "Last year my pig looked just like a real one, didn't it? You all saw it. That was just a slip—I'm rusty."
"You look like a pig," Chris shot back.
Sean glanced at George's desk, watching as the notebook was neatly stacked together with his other books. The first step of his plan was complete.
To carry out his plan, Sean had secretly passed the notebook to George. In a way, his actions weren't so different from Lucius's.
He knew there were risks, which was why he chose George and Fred. The twins shared everything—they were inseparable. Sean was confident that if George noticed anything strange about the notebook, he would tell Fred.
Unlike Ginny, who in the original scenario had discovered the notebook's oddity but chose to deal with it alone instead of telling anyone.
As long as one of the twins acted even slightly off, the other would notice. Even if one of them ended up being controlled and opened the Chamber of Secrets, it wouldn't matter—the entrance had already been sealed by Dumbledore.
What Sean needed was a performance. He needed the notebook to surface, to draw Dumbledore's attention. No one would get hurt in the process.
Now all that remained was to wait—wait for George to discover the notebook, and to write in it.
That evening at dinner, Dumbledore made an announcement. "All students are to remain in their dormitories after curfew. In addition to Filch, a professor will now be assigned to patrol at night."
"What's going on?" Sean wondered.
Filch stood smugly at the entrance of the Great Hall, looking at the students inside. The previous night, he had spotted a cloaked figure during his patrol but failed to catch them.
This morning, he had reported the incident to Dumbledore. Given the string of incidents over the past three years, Dumbledore had decided to tighten nighttime security.
Draco froze mid-bite, his heart filled with both fear and frustration. Thankfully, he hadn't been caught—but how was he supposed to get to the Room of Requirement now?
Sean scanned the Great Hall. He was certain the mysterious figure searching for Adam had been the one Filch encountered.
"Amateur," Sean thought. "Can't even avoid Filch."
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