"One month, one month—"
Professor Terra's expressionless face softened slightly.
"What year are you in, child?"
"First year, Professor," Sean replied.
"Oh! Of course—otherwise, you wouldn't…"
The professor paused, stunned for a mont, but she didn't seem to doubt his words. Her eyes narrowed slightly, and a faint smile tugged at her lips.
"Show your diagram of the floating quill's creation process… You improved it, didn't you? Otherwise, the final step wouldn't have fit so perfectly."
"Yes, Professor," Sean said, a bit surprised. Could she really tell?
While crafting the floating quill, Sean had noticed the sample provided by the Weasley twins could be refined. The Weasleys didn't seem able to sense the subtle flow of magic with their willpower alone. This made their floating quills feel rough. But Sean was different—he could always pick up on the delicate traces of magic, just like he had with flying broomsticks. So, naturally, he optimized the process. It wasn't until he finished that he realized how risky it had been.
"A skilled alchemist can sense the profound changes in their creations," Professor Terra said, her voice growing warr. "That's what separates alchemists into different tiers."
Sean had read those words in a book before, but hearing them from the professor made them feel even more familiar.
"Sounds familiar. It seems you've read The Fifth Elent: An Exploration… That's impressive," Professor Terra said, her smile widening. She didn't ntion that the book's cover bore her own na in bold letters—Flora Terra.
"Among all branches of magic, alchemy relies most heavily on talent," she continued. "Great alchemists connect to the truth through the 'aether,' reshaping the world. diocre ones, though, are only fit to be minor clerks at the Ministry or producers of mundane objects, never glimpsing the truth in their lifeti."
With a wave of her hand, a stool hopped out from her office, and she sat down slowly.
"So, tell , child, why do you want to study alchemy? Or rather, how do you view it?"
Sean paused, thinking of the Weasley twins' inventions. Simple combinations that produced incredible results.
"Alchemy… it's like there's so much still unexplored," he began. "A transfiguration spell paired with a triggering charm can create canary creams. A duplication charm and a sustaining spell can make eternal ink. Magic, in a way, completely ignores science. If we can have canary creams, why not hawk biscuits or shark pies? If we can have infinite ink, why not infinite quills or clothes? If a greenhouse can be chard to stay warm, why not a teapot, a cloak, or a pair of boots?
"And that's just the parts of alchemy wizards have already explored. There's so much that's still a blank slate. Wizards can boil a kettle with a single fire spell but don't understand how steam works. They can duplicate and pressurize objects but don't grasp the concept of a pressure pump."
The more he spoke, the brighter Sean's eyes shone.
"Why do we need to unravel the mysteries of alchemy? Because… they're right there, waiting."
For a long mont, the corridor fell into a deep silence.
Professor Terra's mind raced. She thought of the last Alchemy Conference, where Muggle-born alchemists who'd transitioned from Muggle studies brought jaw-dropping ideas. Though their lack of innate talent limited them to being consultants, their creativity was undeniable.
"Are you a half-blood wizard?" she asked softly, her tone neutral, filled only with curiosity.
"I'm Muggle-born, Professor," Sean replied.
"I've heard so fascinating ideas from that Weasley boy—his flying car was quite sothing," she said. "Starting this week, I'll reserve Monday and Wednesday afternoons for you. Now, tell your na."
"Sean Green, Professor."
"Flora Terra. It's a pleasure to et you today. And tell those Weasley boys I'll be in this corridor from now on—and they don't need to keep pretending to trip. No wizard falls in the sa spot seven tis."
Professor Terra's gaze lingered on the notebook at the top of Sean's stack of books.
"Your quill diagram, Mr. Green. You haven't given it to yet."
Snapping out of his daze, Sean realized he'd forgotten and quickly handed her the notebook.
---
In the corridor, Sir Cadogan had been dozing more often lately. Perhaps the chilly weather was to bla, or maybe it was the late-night drinking. He slept through most of the day.
Sean walked briskly, heading to the Transfiguration office to practice, when two fiery redheads popped out from a corner.
"You ca out too fast! How'd it go?!" Fred Weasley asked, pulling off the visor of a suit of armor to reveal his face.
"Don't tell us you botched it—next ti, we're charging a Galleon," George added, struggling to yank Fred out of the armor.
With a flick of Sean's wand, the armor sprang to life, dismantling itself piece by piece before reassembling.
"Cool—" Fred whispered.
"The professor told to et her after class," Sean said, gratitude in his voice. He paused, then added, "Oh, and she said she'll be in this corridor from now on. Also, stop pretending to trip—no wizard falls in the sa spot seven tis."
Fred and George flushed, muttering, "It's not falling, it's a wizard thing," and "The floor's just too slippery," before vanishing.
Sean wasn't surprised by the Weasleys' mix of reliability and chaos. He left the corridor quickly. With two days until Wednesday, he needed to brush up on alchemy's frawork as much as possible.
anwhile, in the Alchemy office, Professor Terra sat, intrigued, flipping through Sean's notebook. Her eyes darkened as she read the first line: Potions and alchemy should share a common thread of origin.
The following sections on alchemy's three stages and their parallels to potion-making made her nod approvingly. Though Sean hadn't written about advanced techniques like willpower reinforcent, his theories subtly shaped his magical perspective, giving his notes a depth of thought.
Professor Terra grew more pleased as she studied his diagram of the floating quill. It was still rough, but the attention to detail was remarkable.
But… two days?
The ti to engrave the runes on the quill?
"It took two days to barely craft a floating quill…"
Professor Terra stood up.
User Comments
0 comments from readers