Sean returned to the waking world with a sense of lingering wistfulness.
But after only a few seconds, the furrow in his brow smoothed out. He would be able to find Madam Ravenclaw again next ti; that wasn't the issue. What mattered was that he finally had his answers.
The air in the dormitory was biting, and the moon still hung high in the silvered sky. Only a faint sliver of pale grey-green on the distant horizon signaled the slow approach of dawn.
Sean stepped out of the Ravenclaw common room. Glancing at the portrait of the founder, he felt a strange sense of vertigo. Encountering the soul of a woman dead for a millennium was even more surreal than sending a ghost to their final rest.
In truth, he still had a mountain of questions. Why had Rowena chosen him as her successor? Was there a specific criteria for her inheritance? And what of her ancient book? Sean had clearly seen the title The Book of Ghosts shimring on the leather cover.
No matter. He had all the ti in the world to unearth the mysteries of magic, and fortunately, he was quite good at it.
This weekend, Sean's schedule was packed. A quick glance at the Project Map revealed several high-priority tasks:
[Practice Legilincy in the Dungeons]
[Construct a low-cost 'Telephone' device]
[Grind Wampus Biscuits to Adept level]...
But none of those felt as pressing as the task currently at hand.
He stepped into the corridor, his boots clicking against the thin layer of white frost coating the stones. The suits of armor lining the halls still held wilted flowers—relics of the recent Valentine's Day. It was still far too early for the other students to be awake, and even the ghosts had yet to begin their morning rounds.
Sean transfigured a soft cushion in the corner where the Grey Lady often lingered and sat for a while, reading by the light of his wand. A long ti passed, but the phantom did not appear.
Just then, a massive red exclamation mark flared to life on the Project Map.
Sean packed his books and prepared to head for the Forbidden Forest.
The morning was frigid. As he passed through the fourth floor, he was surprised to see the "Lucky Statue" had been draped in a thick, hand-knitted scarf. A few early-rising mbers of the Kneazle Society were already there, kneeling before the stone cat with looks of blissful devotion.
He had intended to pass them quickly, but he found himself stopping to watch. The students were sharing small cakes and whispering rumors, holding steaming mugs of grapefruit juice to ward off the chill.
The Kneazle Society was becoming more than just a club; it was an anchor for student life, weaving them together much like the silver threads in the soul realm. Sean realized then that his presence in the castle was changing things in ways he hadn't planned.
Next ti, he decided, perhaps I'll take a look at the club mbers' dreams. Specifically Hannah's. I wonder how she actually conceptualized all this.
Outside the castle, the snow was soft and deep. The forest was a world of white, the trees looking as though they had been draped in heavy layers of cotton wool. Snowflakes spun lazily through the air, lting against Sean's flushed cheeks.
"Sean!"
Hagrid's voice bood from a distance. Above his hut, a thin plu of grey smoke rose from the chimney into the winter sky.
"Morning, Hagrid," Sean called back, waving a hand.
"Bliy—I've got so grand news for yeh! Co in, co in!" Hagrid beckoned him with an enormous arm, nearly sweeping Sean off his feet as he ushered him inside.
"Dumbledore said yes! Here, have a mug o' pear-stewed dragon milk—that Hufflepuff lad, Finch-Fletchley, taught the recipe. Dumbledore approved the request! I knew he would. Starting next term, yeh're officially the Student Assistant for Care of Magical Creatures!"
Hagrid set a steaming, sweet-slling mug in front of Sean. The prospect of an official post, even a junior one, was a novel experience for Sean. He nodded his thanks, his face warming up in the heat of the hut.
"Yes, and... I heard... Scamander ntioned it... I've been keepin' in touch, yeh see..." Hagrid turned a bit bashful, fidgeting with his oversized teacup. "Yeh've got a very special creature with yeh..."
"The Wampus Cat?" Sean guessed.
"rlin's beard! It is a Wampus!" Hagrid gasped.
"I'll have to ask Iffa first, Hagrid," Sean said after a mont's thought.
"Yeh can talk to it?!" Hagrid nearly jumped out of his seat, slamming a hand onto the table. "Oh... sorry..." He pulled his hand back sheepishly. "I'm headin' to the Ministry soon. They're finally considerin' withdrawin' the charges from fifty years ago. This is all yer doin', Sean!"
Sean offered a genuine smile. He knew the wheels were turning; Rita Skeeter had ntioned that the Hogwarts staff had put a significant amount of pressure on the Departnt of Magical Law Enforcent. Of course, Dumbledore's influence was likely the deciding factor.
"So, I was hopin' yeh could help watch the Forest while I'm away. But yeh gotta be careful, lad. I think Norbert might've co back for a visit... I found quite a few... spider carcasses deep in the woods."
Hagrid's brow furrowed. He seed to realize that asking a twelve-year-old to manage the Forbidden Forest might be a bit much.
"I'll help, Hagrid. And... I have soone who can assist ," Sean promised.
It was perfect timing. Iffa needed the exercise, and Sean had a reliable steward.
"Oh, Sean! Thank yeh!" Hagrid's eyes grew moist. He felt a sudden pang of guilt for leaving the boy with such a dangerous responsibility—but then he rembered seeing Snowy transfigured into a dragon and realized Sean was likely safer than he was.
In the forest outside, a few Thestrals took flight, startled by a sudden flash of silver-white. Tila the Bowtruckle gripped a tree trunk tightly, trying to turn herself invisible. A group of Centaurs approached, drawn by the commotion; seeing the familiar fire-dragon (Snowy), they cast a long, curious look at Sean in the doorway of the hut before lting back into the shadows of the trees.
"Snowy!" Sean called out.
The dragon-sized owl, having lted a significant patch of snow during her romp, glided back toward him with a reluctant hoot.
"I reckon... everything's in good hands then," Hagrid said with a relieved sigh. He handed Sean a heavy iron key. "This is for the hut. I'll be seein' yeh, Sean."
Hagrid mounted his massive motorcycle. It let out a roar and a cloud of black smoke before zooming into the sky, disappearing over the horizon. Hagrid was off to clear his na, not just at Hogwarts, but before the entire world.
Sean watched him go, then tapped the cover of his Wizard's To.
Will the Pukwudgie was delighted by the prospect of the vast forest. Sean left him and Snowy to patrol the periter together.
As he walked back across the snow toward the castle, he looked up at the towering stone walls. Every window seed to be radiating a welcoming, warm light. In the distance, he spotted a familiar, translucent silhouette.
Sean raised his hand, and his broomstick streaked from the castle like a bolt of lightning, coming to a halt beneath his palm. Seconds later, he landed near the base of Ravenclaw Tower.
Standing before the corridor doors was the Grey Lady, drifting slowly into the shadows.
"Madam Ravenclaw," Sean said.
"Green..." the ghost murmured, her voice a hollow echo.
[End of Chapter 400]
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