Warm September had slipped away early.
Storm-lashed October was drawing to an end as well.
The weather was turning colder, and the mountains around the school had gone gray and hazy, their slopes covered in snow.
Sean sat in a corner of the courtyard reading, listening to excited witches and wizards running through the corridors.
Vines spread all around that corner, creating a hidden little space.
Every now and then, Sean would direct his quill to jot down a few of his latest theories on parchment.
On the mysterious road of magic, it seemed he would never find the end of it.
Magic was the miracle by which wizards changed the world, and in Sean's understanding, the path of magic roughly worked like this—
one built Order within, sought Wisdom without, and in the end formed a magical ritual.
In Alchemy, Sean's "Fairy Tale Biscuits"; in the spell system, his "Dragon Wingbeat"; and in Potions, his "Will-Guidance Method" were all natural products of that kind of structure.
Its ultimate direction could be summed up in one phrase:
omniscience and omnipotence.
And that meant magic held every possibility within it. As long as a wizard believed magic could do something, then magic could do it.
Just like contract magic.
How had that kind of magic come into being?
Where exactly did its power of restraint come from?
No one knew.
Magic that leaned far enough into the subjective could even extend into things like the Fidelius Charm—a spell that could never be uncovered unless the Secret-Keeper died or betrayed it.
Or the Unbreakable Vow—a spell that killed anyone who broke it.
Or the Age Line—a boundary no one under seventeen could cross.
Sometimes Sean felt that magic was as deep as the night sky. So long as a wizard gave birth to desire, magic would bear stars.
A cold gust swept through the courtyard, slowly turning the pages of Sean's Wizard's Book.
He was researching Dark Magic.
A general term for forms of magic whose primary intent was to cause harm, impose control, corrupt and degrade, or kill.
Unlike ordinary spellcraft or Transfiguration, the core distinction of Dark Magic lay in the caster's intent.
Just as Barty Crouch Jr., disguised as Alastor Moody, had once taught them—even the most powerful Dark spells could not achieve their full force unless the caster truly harbored malice.
And in Sean's view, that simply meant the Order inside the wizard's heart was different.
The purpose of Dark Magic was to cause harm, impose control, corrupt and degrade, or kill, and so it drew on the evil thoughts in a wizard's heart, gave the wizard cruel beliefs, and shaped a twisted form of order.
But could that order be reshaped?
Of course it could.
To strip away the cruel outer shell of Dark Magic and turn it into a form of self-defensive offense—that was what Sean was trying to do.
"It's today. Oh, where's Sean? We can head out earlier—Hogsmeade opened ahead of schedule…"
A voice drifted closer from the corridor.
"We can buy everything we need there all at once!"
said another voice.
"Mum and Dad love those Toothflossing Mints from Honeydukes—ah, found him—"
Hermione and Justin hurried over to Sean, both looking delighted.
Hermione seemed so excited that she caught her foot on one of the vines. A glass potion bottle slipped out of her bag.
"My crystal bottle—"
she cried out.
"Petrificus Totalus—"
A little way off, Sean raised his wand.
The crystal bottle, glittering faintly in the light, immediately lost its shine, its surface covered over with a stone-like layer. It hit the ground with nothing more than a dull thud.
Hermione bent down and picked it up. The clear bottle now looked as though it had been smeared in mud.
"That's… the Body-Bind Curse?"
Hermione raised a brow.
Sean nodded, and the notification rang in his ear:
[You practiced the Full Body-Bind Curse once at Legendary standard. Master-level proficiency +300]
[Full Body-Bind Curse advanced]
[Full Body-Bind Curse: Beginner (270/300)]
This was the second Dark spell Sean had reshaped.
And also his second Beginner-level Dark spell.
At its core, it was meant to protect fragile objects—or to restrain dangerous wizards.
The inspiration had come from Professor Snape's Sectumsempra.
Almost no one knew that when Professor Snape first created Sectumsempra, it had been meant for bloodletting on living beings.
Otherwise, if it had only been designed to harm, why would he have bothered inventing the counter-curse at the same time?
And why write the spell in an advanced Potions textbook?
"That's not what the books say…"
Hermione leaned in closer, staring suspiciously into Sean's green eyes.
"The books say the Body-Bind Curse makes the victim's whole body go rigid, their limbs lock against their sides, and they fall over like a plank. They don't say the victim turns partly to stone…"
"I made some simple modifications to it…"
Sean nodded.
"You're creating new magic?!"
Justin realized it almost at once.
"To be precise, a kind of Dark Magic that doesn't corrode the wizard's soul."
Sean confirmed.
The two younger wizards were speechless for a moment.
"I've heard that when Professor Snape first came to Hogwarts, he already knew more spells than half the seventh-years, and that he even tried creating his own magic…"
Justin said in a very small voice.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Hermione asked, confused.
Justin fell silent.
He looked at Sean, then at Hermione, then finally up at the sky.
"Hey! Were you even listening to me?"
Hermione grabbed his head and turned it back.
"I think we should go…"
Justin said quickly.
"What about Harry and the others?"
Hermione glared at him, then finally let it go.
"Neville dropped his coin purse. Um… Harry and the others are helping him look for it. We're meeting at Honeydukes, and…"
Justin silently opened his bag, and a mirror floated out.
"You can just ask yourself, Hermione. Did you forget? Sean's magic hand mirror?"
"I just…"
Hermione's face reddened as she pinched the opening of her little bag.
Inside lay a pink mirror, its back patterned like a Kneazle, with two soft little cat-ear decorations attached at the top.
"Hermione?"
Justin looked at her curiously.
"Let's go—"
Hermione said stiffly.
Still chattering, the three of them set off.
The morning was clear, but windy.
After breakfast, they lined up in front of Mr. Filch, who checked their names against the long list of students whose parents or guardians had signed permission for them to visit Hogsmeade.
Once they had been checked through, they kept going, down the stone steps and out into the cold, dazzling sunlight.
They passed between the tall stone pillars topped with winged boars, then turned left onto the road leading to the village, the wind blowing their hair across their eyes.
"So where are we going first?"
Hermione said excitedly.
Hogsmeade looked like a Christmas card: thatched cottages and little shops covered in fresh snow, holly wreaths hanging from every door, and strings of magically lit candles sparkling in the trees.
The snow here had been enchanted. It never stopped falling.
The streets were crowded, and the witches and wizards there all seemed to share one thing in common…
"I'm in Hogsmeade right now… where are you? Oh, darling, Fairy Tale Workshop is lovely, but your father still has the invitation… You want me to buy you a copy of The Wizarding Chronicle of Magic from Green Bookshop? Sweetheart, I should warn you—the signed editions sold out ages ago…"
"The streets are crawling with Dementors. I'd like to see how Black expects to get in… don't worry… I'll head back soon… after I stop by Green Bookshop…"
"Have Diagon Alley send over another box of Jelly Slugs—they've practically sold this place out…"
Almost every witch and wizard was holding a small mirror. Every so often they spoke into them—or just kept talking nonstop.
The mirrors came in all kinds of shapes:
Some came with a furry little pouch for holding things, one that looked tiny but could somehow fit an entire broomstick inside.
Some were shaped like puffskein fish: squeeze their round little belly and the mirror would open, then float up on its own.
Some could simply hover in the air beside their owner like little pets.
"According to the numbers, almost every wizard in Britain owns at least one magical hand mirror. The arrival of the magical hand mirror is being called the second communications revolution in magical history."
Justin unfolded a newspaper and read that aloud.
"What was the first?"
Hermione asked curiously.
"The invention of the Floo network,"
Justin said.
"Oh, and by the way, communication through hand mirrors is also being called the Magic Net."
"The Magic… Net?"
Hermione looked over her shoulder at the young wizard walking behind them—the one who had actually created the whole thing.
Even Sean himself looked surprised.
So Emerald Workshop's claim of tens of thousands of sales had been true?
He'd honestly thought there weren't that many wizards in Britain…
Though, come to think of it, that might also explain why the goblins had given him an entire vault not long ago.
At this point, Sean had three full vaults at Gringotts. The wealth he had accumulated was enough to rival an old pure-blood family.
And now that there was a magical network…
The thought suddenly occurred to him: could magic create a virtual world?
A true networked world, the way Muggles imagined one?
No wizard had ever really thought about that before, because wizards could already make fantasy real.
Muggles needed to build an underground fantasy world and pretend to be heroes entering it and clearing its levels, while a wizard could create a real "dungeon" in the world itself.
Still, it was an interesting idea. Maybe Sean could ask Professor Terra how feasible it was.
As those thoughts drifted through his mind, Hogsmeade grew even livelier.
Not far away, Honeydukes was packed full of Hogwarts students when suddenly someone shouted:
"Fairy Tale Workshop is open!"
At the same moment, every magical hand mirror displayed the same message:
[Fairy Tale Workshop has opened for business today. We look forward to your visit.]
Students poured out of Honeydukes in a rush.
Even a witch who was either the owner or an employee hurriedly shut the shop door and ran off too, leaving only a broad back and a shiny bald head.
"Hey! I hadn't even bought my sweets yet!"
Hermione said angrily.
"Come on, Hermione. There's a three-headed dog performance today."
Justin soothed her.
"What three-headed dog? Hagrid brought Fang? No—Fluffy?!"
Hermione cried out.
"How long has it been since you checked your magic hand mirror?"
Justin asked tentatively.
"It's just…"
Hermione faltered.
In truth, ever since she'd bought an overly decorative "mirror case" and gotten buried in her studies again, she hadn't used it much.
"Sean…"
With no other choice, she puffed out her cheeks and looked at the boy.
Sean was trying to remain still amid the surge of the crowd.
"Professor Quirrell is helping me test some of the Fairy Tale Biscuits…"
Sean explained.
"Right there at the entrance to Fairy Tale Workshop, so…"
Justin picked up the explanation.
"A three-headed dog with cat heads!"
cried a voice from a witch's hand mirror beside him.
"That's just a half-transfigured cat…"
Before Sean could finish explaining, Hermione had already dragged him away.
"Hurry up, Sean…"
Hermione said excitedly, clutching Crookshanks in her arms.
By the time Sean managed to extract himself from the crowd gawking outside Fairy Tale Workshop, Hermione and Justin were both busy petting the fur of the three-headed cat.
Come to think of it, the proficiency of Sean's Fairy Tale Biscuits was already close to Master.
And because of that, more subtle changes had begun to appear.
Now, he could create Fairy Tale Biscuits that possessed part of a magical creature's abilities while still retaining a degree of reason.
It looked like only a small step forward, but in truth it had already caused a huge stir.
Several Ministry orders had already exploded in number, but Professor Terra had rejected them all on the grounds that the work was not yet complete.
If Sean hadn't been so pressed for time, Professor Quirrell wouldn't have been the one handling the testing in his place.
Hogsmeade was full of sleet and snow, with a cutting wind that left people's hands almost numb.
"I say,"
Justin and Hermione came over, both red-cheeked from the cold. Justin tried very hard to keep his voice steady.
"Why don't we go to the Three Broomsticks and get some butterbeer?"
"Mhm."
Sean agreed. It really was a bit cold here.
Especially for students who had just come out from the comparatively mild grounds of Hogwarts.
So the three of them crossed the street, and a few minutes later ducked into the little inn.
It was packed, noisy, hot, and full of smoke.
A very pretty, curvy woman was serving a crowd of loud, rowdy wizards at the bar.
"That's Madam Rosmerta,"
Justin said to Hermione.
"I'll get the drinks, alright?"
he added.
Sean and Hermione squeezed toward the back of the inn, where there was a small empty table between the window and a beautiful fir tree, right beside the fire.
It was the same spot they'd sat in last time.
A few minutes later, Harry and Ron appeared in the doorway too, looking half frozen.
"Sean?"
Harry and Ron greeted them in delight, then came over at a trot with Neville and squeezed in.
The little table was now completely surrounded.
A short distance away, Justin had just come back with three large mugs of frothy hot butterbeer, only to turn right around again.
"Oh…"
Harry looked a little apologetic.
"Harry, you need to be careful."
The moment she saw him, Hermione couldn't help warning him.
She had remembered Sirius Black again.
There were notices posted outside the sweetshops now:
[By order of the Ministry of Magic, customers are advised that, until further notice, Dementors will patrol the streets of Hogsmeade every day from sunset onward. This measure is necessary to ensure the safety of Hogsmeade residents and will remain in effect until Sirius Black is recaptured.
All customers are therefore requested to complete their shopping before nightfall.
Happy Halloween!]