Seven Outstandings?
Dragging his suitcase down the corridor, Sean chewed on that impossible goal.
He'd arrived early, so the first few carriages were still mostly empty.
In the second carriage, he finally found an unoccupied compartment.
He braced himself, grabbed the suitcase with both hands, and tried to lift it onto the luggage rack.
It didn't budge.
He tried again. The suitcase left the floor for half a second—
then crashed back down, twice as loud.
Sean stood there in silence for a moment. Then he pulled his wand.
"Wingardium Leviosa."
[You have practiced Levitation Charm once at Apprentice standard. Proficiency +3]
With the incantation and the familiar chiming in his head, the brick-like suitcase rose smoothly into the air.
Still the best spell in the world.
Sean tucked his wand away, guided the floating trunk into place, and slid into the compartment.
He never noticed the curious little witch watching him from the corridor.
Outside the window, steam from the scarlet engine drifted above the chattering crowd.
Cats of every pattern wound around ankles and suitcases, darting between boots and crates.
Over the hum of voices and the clatter of heavy trunks, owls hooted their irritated complaints from their cages.
Sean opened his copy of Hogwarts: A History, almost as big as half the table.
One page listed Hogwarts' seven core subjects:
Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Herbology, Defence Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic, and Astronomy.
Those were the compulsory classes as well.
So, how was he supposed to get an Outstanding in all of them?
Sean searched his memory for a reference point—
and landed on Hogwarts' resident academic weapon: Hermione Granger.
If he remembered correctly, she'd scored nine Os and one E in her O.W.L.s—
Ordinary Wizarding Level examinations.
And Hermione's results were always stable.
If he could match even a fraction of her performance, he'd know he was on the right track.
Was that difficult?
Of course it was. His magical talent was pathetic.
Apart from History of Magic, every other subject leaned heavily on magical aptitude.
But could he not do it?
If he couldn't get there even with a cheat… he might as well find a wall and headbutt himself into the afterlife.
"I'll just grind it out."
While he was arranging his luggage, he thought through his approach.
"Start with Transfiguration…"
He settled into the padded seat, put Hogwarts: A History away, and pulled out A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration—
a reddish-brown volume with gilt edging, packed with explanations of theory and technique for first and second years.
The most classic beginner exercise:
turning a matchstick into a needle.
If he could reach that level within a month, Sean was confident he could secure an Outstanding.
[When performing a Transfiguration, it is essential to move your wand with firmness and decisiveness.
Do not twirl or flick your wand unnecessarily, or the Transfiguration will surely fail.
Before casting the spell, clearly visualize in your mind what you want the object to become.
Beginners should enunciate the incantation clearly, while advanced witches and wizards may cast non-verbally…]
Sean read every line with absolute focus.
His plan was simple:
he would memorize all two hundred-plus pages of the book before even attempting the spell.
Why?
Because when Hermione first started learning magic, she memorized all her textbooks—
and then proceeded to dominate every exam.
If it worked for her, it was worth copying.
The path to success lay right in front of him. Why not imitate?
Especially given his lack of talent, he had to make up for it with sheer effort.
There was also another very practical reason:
these books had cost him eleven Galleons in total.
Just thinking about it made his heart ache.
He studied with the vengeful fervour of someone at an all-you-can-eat buffet, determined to get his money's worth.
At some point, without realizing it, he had already skim-memorized every book he'd bought.
The Transfiguration book in his hands—
he'd already gone through more than one hundred and eighty pages.
He'd be able to finish it today, and then start practical Transfiguration practice immediately.
For a boy who'd been painfully average in his previous life, the transformation was startling.
Poverty, it turned out, was a terrifying motivator.
Steam billowed outside the station, blurring the view.
Sean was so absorbed in his reading that he didn't notice when a young witch slid open the compartment door.
"Excuse me, is anyone else sitting here?"
A girl with bushy brown hair poked her head in and lifted her chin as she asked.
"No."
Sean answered without looking up, eyes still on the page.
If the last six months in the orphanage had taught him anything useful, it was focus.
Children like him—grass growing in a wasteland—had no control over life or death.
If they didn't learn to grow on their own, one gust of wind would be enough to tear them out by the roots.
After that one-word reply, Sean fell silent again.
Even after the train lurched into motion, and the number of occupants in the compartment went from two to three, he didn't move.
Outside, the scenery flowed by like a painted panorama.
A winding river, fields of rippling wheat, the occasional farmhouse and herd of cows or sheep,
all swallowed now and then by rolling dark-green hills.
Hermione read her own book, occasionally glancing out at the landscape—
and at the boy sitting opposite her.
His hair was slightly fluffy, rising gently on both sides.
Long lashes flickered every now and then, and his whole presence radiated a quiet stillness.
More importantly…
"He really looks like my cat. I know wizards aren't cats, but… he really does."
The black-haired boy beside her spoke in a low voice, then scratched his head in embarrassment.
To his relief, his comment was immediately seconded.
Hermione nodded vigorously.
Her eyes met his, both of them lighting up with the joy of being understood.
"Justin, that is… too accurate!"
Justin's eyes brightened, and the two of them started whispering and snickering.
Sean, buried in his book, had no idea he'd become someone's topic of discussion.
The train rocked gently, the window acting as a canvas for moving countryside.
Aside from Hermione and Justin Finch-Fletchley's low voices,
the only other sound in the compartment was the soft rustling of turning pages.
At last, Sean finished the final paragraph.
He let out a long breath and rubbed his tired eyes.
"Now I have everything I need."
His eyes sparkled.
He put the book aside, reached into his robes, and took out a matchstick.
In his mind, he sketched and re-sketched its form, structure, and properties.
Memories of Transfiguration from his past life and his current theoretical knowledge fused together—
"Trans—figura—tion."
Riding that surge of confidence, Sean whispered the incantation and flicked his wand.
The matchstick remained mostly unchanged.
Sean, however, smiled.
[You have practiced Basic Transfiguration once at Beginner standard. Proficiency +3]
"Did he say something just now? And what is he doing?" Justin murmured, baffled.
"It looked like… Transfiguration. Oh no! The book says that's a dangerous branch of magic. If you get it wrong, the results can be horrible!"
Hermione clutched her robes, frowning, about to interrupt him.
[You have practiced Basic Transfiguration once at Skilled standard. Proficiency +10]
[You have practiced Basic Transfiguration once at Skilled standard. Proficiency +10]
…
Sean cast again and again, each try smoother than the last.
It was a sensation he'd never felt before.
Magic… felt easy.
Could I be… a Transfiguration prodigy?
[You have practiced Basic Transfiguration once at Skilled standard. Proficiency +10]
[Basic Transfiguration unlocked]
[New Transfiguration-domain title unlocked. Please check.]
[New wizard talent unlocked. Please check.]
When the panel chimed, Sean's eyes narrowed with satisfaction.
Scholarship fragment: +1.
And then, a discordant voice cut in:
"You can't practice dangerous Transfiguration spells here! You can't control them!"
Hermione's voice rang out, loud and sharp with indignation.
The moment she finished—
The matchstick trembled.
Right before her widened eyes, it slowly stretched and thinned,
becoming a slender silver needle. The tip glinted coldly in the compartment light.
The air froze for a heartbeat.
Hermione's last syllable died in her throat.
"Merlin… I've read about this example in a book. He actually… did it?"
Justin stared, stunned.
Sean looked up at the two of them—
Hermione's ears faintly pink, Justin leaning in for a closer look.
"Sorry," Sean said calmly. "Could you repeat that? I didn't quite catch it."
He truly hadn't heard a word.
He'd been too focused.
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