"Are you okay?"
Michael carefully propped up Sean, who was still panting heavily.
"I'm fine," Sean replied.
After a few minutes of catching his breath, Sean started to feel more like himself. He had overestimated his recovery from a recent illness.
Next ti, I'll take it slower, he decided, ntally bumping "learning to fly" up his priority list, right below earning that scholarship.
"Alright, then," Michael said, his brows furrowing, eyes flickering with concern.
Back in the dormitory, Sean's tasks were much simpler. Just a matter of tackling howork for History of Magic, Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, and Defense Against the Dark Arts.
These assignnts were technically due within a week, but Sean wasn't one to procrastinate. He knocked out his Defense Against the Dark Arts essay in half an hour, and the Charms essay didn't survive twenty minutes in his hands.
The only thing requiring extra care was the one-foot History of Magic essay. It was a hefty task, but Sean had mostly finished it last ti, with just the conclusion left to polish.
"No way…"
Michael, watching the whole process, was dumbfounded.
"You just… like that… finished three assignnts? Including that monstrous History of Magic essay?"
Sean turned his head, his long eyelashes fluttering slightly.
"Don't look at like, 'What, you can't do that?'" Michael exclaid, slamming his book shut with a thud.
"I'm telling you, no one could finish all that right now!"
With that, he stord out of the dorm, only to return with two other wizards trailing behind him—Terry and Anthony.
"Sorry to barge in," Anthony said politely.
"Michael said there was r—" Terry started, only to be quickly silenced by the long-haired wizard covering his mouth.
"Sean, look, none of us have finished," Michael said smugly, holding up two pieces of parchnt with barely three inches of writing—far short of the required foot. "So, please, teach us your ways!"
Sean was a bit puzzled. Sure, it was a lot of work, but it wasn't that hard, was it?
Seeing three pairs of eager eyes staring at him, he nodded and picked up his parchnt.
"Honestly," Sean said, pointing to his neat handwriting, "writing a history essay is pretty straightforward. Professor Binns assigned us Eric the Evil and Uric the Oddball. Step one: create a tiline to pinpoint the era these wizards lived in."
He handed his carefully drawn tiline to the three, who didn't dare blink.
"Then, you use the context from A History of Magic—it's detailed enough. Step two: analyze what these wizards did, keeping their historical context in mind. There's a great quote in the book: judging a person without context is just lazy. Step three: reassess their actions and form your own argunt. Step four: compare them to other figures or events in history, blending facts and analysis—that's the heart of a good history essay. Finally, wrap it up with a conclusion, maybe touch on the value of your argunt or add a forward-looking perspective for extra flair."
Sean paused, rembering sothing. He flipped open a notebook half-filled with notes.
"Since A History of Magic can be a bit chaotic with its tiline, I cross-referenced it with books like Notable Wizards and Quirky Magical Mishaps and Their Lessons. You can use my notes directly."
As he spoke, the three young wizards' expressions shifted from stunned to sparkling with excitent. Michael reverently took the notebook, muttering, "Sean, you're like rlin sent to save us… This is my Bible. Where's my parchnt? I'm ready to battle this essay for three hundred more rounds!"
Terry and Anthony erupted with enthusiasm, diving into the notebook. The dorm filled with the soft scratch of quills and the crackle of the fireplace.
Anthony's earnest thank-you lingered in Sean's ears as he nodded and effortlessly finished his Transfiguration essay. Truth be told, his thod could be applied to any assignnt.
He barely noticed the two extra people in the room as he set aside his Potions howork and scribbled the second step of his plan in his ever-present notebook:
[Find ingredients for brewing potions]
Sean had already mastered the basics of ingredient preparation. With the right materials, he'd be ready to brew. But where to get them?
The Hogwarts supply list didn't include buying potion ingredients—students used what the school provided. Could he access them after class?
Sean pondered. It was probably allowed, but the chances of Professor Snape agreeing were about as likely as a Blast-Ended Skrewt winning a beauty contest.
He sighed, picturing Snape's face, practically radiating refusal.
If there was anything worse than lacking potion-making talent, it was lacking talent and having Snape as a teacher.
What could he do?
The question swirled in his mind as twilight draped over Hogwarts. Blue and bronze silk curtains hung from the ceiling, tinged by the faint moonlight streaming through the windows, turning them a deep, inky blue. The air carried the faint bitterness of old book pages, the soft scent of parchnt, and a crisp, rain-washed chill.
Sean's gaze drifted to the massive arched window. His erald eyes, misted like a Scottish autumn, reflected the flickering glow of the fireplace.
"There's always a way," he told himself. "This is Hogwarts, the heart of magic."
The long night passed, and the castle stirred awake.
Stone statues in the corridors bathed in the first warm, orange rays of dawn, catching the eye of a young wizard shielding his face with a book.
Wednesday.
Ravenclaw had no morning classes, so most first-years were still lost in dreams. Sean, however, was up early—a habit from the orphanage, where missing breakfast ant going hungry.
He strolled into the Great Hall, launching an enthusiastic attack on pumpkin soup, chicken-and-ham pie, and Cauldron Cakes.
At his side, as always, was Justin, sporting his usual warm smile.
"Morning, Sean!"
"Morning," Sean replied with a nod, noticing Justin flipping through a thick copy of Directory of Notable Modern Wizards.
"Hogwarts is incredible," Justin said. "If Professor Binns hadn't assigned that one-foot essay, I'd have more ti to explore the castle or check out the kitchen near the Hufflepuff common room…"
At the ntion of howork, Justin's sunny expression clouded slightly.
"Hm," Sean responded, his green eyes lighting up at the word kitchen.
That blasted Sorting Hat. I could've been a snack-loving Hufflepuff… he thought.
Then sothing clicked.
"Wait, Professor Binns gave Hufflepuff a one-foot essay too?"
"Too?" Justin looked up, surprised. "You an…"
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