Sean looked at Jennifer, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his face. He shook his head. "Are you acting as a lobbyist for Oliver? No, that's not right," he mused, his voice dangerously soft. "As foolish as your brother is, I don't think he's foolish enough to send you to persuade me to take his side. So, that leaves two possibilities. For you to ask such a question, you are either a fool yourself, or you have ulterior motives. I just can't decide which."
The vacant, half-innocent expression on Jennifer's face dissolved, replaced by a cool, unsmiling mask. "You are smarter than I imagined."
"From the moment you joined the Potions Club last year, you've been playing a part," Sean said, his eyes cold and analytical. "To put it nicely, you were affecting an air of naivete. To put it bluntly, you were acting like a pure-blooded idiot. Perhaps Ravenclaw produces high-scoring simpletons, but Slytherin... Heh. A snake's nest does not produce piglets."
"So you knew all along that something was wrong?"
"I knew within the first month," he replied with a shrug. "But what does it have to do with me?"
Jennifer leaned back against a desk, her long golden hair falling over her shoulder, a picture of calculated grace. "Don't you want to know why I'm doing this?" she asked, her voice a low purr.
Sean stood up, meeting her gaze without a flicker of interest. "Sorry, but no. I don't want to know. It's late, and I need to rest. I have classes tomorrow."
He turned to leave. Jennifer's composure finally cracked, her brow furrowing in frustration. For the first time, she felt she had completely misjudged him. She had observed him for a year, building a psychological profile she thought was complete. This entire test had been based on that profile, and it had just spectacularly failed.
Just as Sean pulled open the classroom door, her voice, sharp and urgent, cut through the silence behind him.
"Are you interested in cooperating with me to take down Oliver?"
His hand paused on the doorknob for a fraction of a second. Then, without looking back, he stepped out into the corridor and closed the door firmly behind him.
Of course, he was interested in seeing Oliver fall. But why would he ever trust the man's own sister? One moment they were the picture of sibling solidarity, and the next she was proposing fratricide. Only an idiot would walk into the middle of that viper's nest. Even if her intentions were genuine now, blood was a complicated thing. Who was to say she wouldn't change her mind and turn on him? He would not make himself vulnerable to such a predictable betrayal.
Jennifer watched the door close, her expression darkening. She had expected him at least to ask for details. She knew Oliver had been a thorn in Sean's side. She knew Sean was the type to repay every slight. She hadn't expected to be dismissed so completely, so utterly.
Returning to his room, Sean put down his books and caught Kulkan as the snake slithered toward him, casually coiling the familiar weight around his waist and shoulder. He sat at his desk and began reviewing his notes, pushing the encounter with Jennifer from his mind. It was an unreliable variable, a distraction he couldn't afford.
His goals for the semester were clear: acquire Lockhart's Memory Charm, obtain Voldemort's diary, and prepare for a head-on confrontation with the Basilisk. Those three tasks were more than enough to occupy him. He had no interest in inviting more trouble.
It was only then that Sean realized, with a sudden jolt, that he'd been so focused on Lockhart he'd completely forgotten to check his rewards from the battle with the Cornish Pixies. He knew how his weird system worked; the abilities just sat there, waiting, until he actually looked at them.
He immediately opened his panel, his eyes scanning the long list of notifications.
[Duel Won!]
[Conditions Met: Victory Against Cornish Pixie.]
[System Commencing Random Ability Extraction from Defeated Target: Cornish Pixie.]
[Extracting...]
[Extraction Complete!]
[New Ability Acquired: Prankster's Tricks (Level 2)]
[Duel Won!]
[Conditions Met: Victory Against Cornish Pixie.]
[System Commencing Random Ability Extraction from Defeated Target: Cornish Pixie.]
[Extracting...]
[Extraction Complete!]
[New Ability Acquired: Prankster's Tricks (Level 1)]
The list just went on and on, a seemingly endless scroll of the same useless skill. Sean sighed, frustrated. A dozen pixies, and all he got for his trouble was a fourth-level mastery of pulling pranks. He was about to close the panel, totally annoyed, when his eyes caught two prompts near the bottom that were different.
[Duel Won!]
[Conditions Met: Victory Against Cornish Pixie.]
[System Commencing Random Ability Extraction from Defeated Target: Cornish Pixie.]
[Extracting...]
[Extraction Complete!]
[New Ability Acquired: Flight]
But right after that, a whole new stream of messages started popping up, just like with the troll.
[Warning: Extracted ability is from a species different from the host.]
[Perfect inheritance is not possible. Searching for a solution...]
[Searching...]
[Solution found based on host's species and physical condition.]
[Now modifying extracted ability to match host's body...]
[Acquired: Talent: Cornish Pixie's Blessing · Flight (Foundational)]
An unexpected prize. After all his frustrating attempts to get a single useful spell from Lockhart, he had accidentally stumbled upon the ability to fly from a bunch of tiny pests. It seemed his luck had been hiding in the last place he'd ever think to look.
He stood up, carefully placing Kulkan on the bed. He took a deep, steadying breath, focused his mind, and activated the new talent.
He felt a strange lightness, a subtle disconnect from the ground beneath him. His body slowly, gently, levitated into the air. He willed himself forward and, under his mental command, began to slowly drift across the room.
"Drift" was the operative word. His speed was roughly equivalent to a slow walk. It was less like flying and more like... floating.
A bitter laugh escaped him. Heh. Of course. I should have known better than to get my hopes up. An ability that allowed a tiny pixie to zip through the air was only enough to turn him into a glorified balloon. It wasn't just floating, he noted with a grimace; he could move forward slightly. So this was it. This was "flying."
Are you kidding me?
After a moment of pure, unadulterated disappointment, he was about to deactivate the talent when a new thought sparked in his mind, sharp and sudden.
The flight itself was weak, pathetic even. But it existed.
What if he could give it some power?
[Chapter Complete]
***
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