Bang!
The explosive crash ripped Jensen from the edge of sleep. He sat bolt upright in bed, his heart hammering against his ribs. The sound had been close—dangerously close. It had come from the room next door. Sean's room.
Since the start of the term, Jensen had arranged to have the room adjacent to Sean's. He threw off his covers, not bothering to change out of his pajamas. He grabbed his wand from the nightstand, his mind already cycling through defensive charms as he burst into the corridor and pounded on Sean's door.
"Sean! Sean, are you alright? What happened?"
He heard a muffled groan from within, followed by the sound of shuffling footsteps. A moment later, the door creaked open. Sean stood there, looking completely disheveled. His hair was a mess, his robes were rumpled and torn in several places, and a fine layer of dust coated his shoulders. Behind him, Jensen could see a large wooden cabinet toppled onto its side, its contents spilled across the floor in a chaotic jumble.
"What in Merlin's name happened to you?" Jensen demanded, his eyes wide with concern.
Sean just shook his head, a wide, irrepressible grin spreading across his face. It was a look of pure, unadulterated joy. "I'm fine," he said, his voice buzzing with energy. "I was just... experimenting with something. Lost control for a second. Sorry for waking you."
"Sorry for—Sean, are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine, Jensen, don't worry," Sean insisted, clapping him on the shoulder. "You know my physical constitution. It would take more than a falling cabinet to hurt me."
Reassured, if still a bit bewildered, Jensen nodded. He could hear another student poking their head out of a door down the hall. "Alright. Someone's coming. Get some rest. I'm going back."
"Okay, you get some sleep. Good night." Sean started to close the door, then paused. "Oh, and Jensen? From now on, at Hogwarts, you don't need to shadow me all the time. There's no real danger inside the castle, and our classes don't always align. You have your own electives to worry about. Don't waste your time trailing me."
Jensen hesitated, a flicker of conflict in his eyes. "But my duty is to—"
"There's no 'duty' here," Sean interrupted, his grin turning into a wry smirk. "Besides, you can't beat me in a duel anyway, can you?"
The words, though teasing, hit their mark. A flash of helpless frustration crossed Jensen's face. "Alright," he conceded with a sigh. "I'll focus on my own studies. But if you need anything, just call. I'll be there."
"Alright, alright," Sean said, waving him off. "What could possibly happen at Hogwarts?"
Jensen caught the subtle, almost mocking undertone in Sean's voice but chose to ignore it. He was getting used to his friend's enigmatic moods. He turned and headed back to his own room, leaving Sean alone with his discovery.
The moment the door clicked shut, Sean's grin broke wide open. He hadn't just been experimenting. He had combined his newly acquired, pathetic floating ability with a simple propulsive jinx, and the result had been explosive. The instantaneous burst of speed had sent him rocketing across the room, far faster than he'd anticipated. He had held back considerably, and still, he'd crashed with enough force to topple a solid oak cabinet. If he hadn't... he shuddered at the thought. He could have gone straight through the stone wall. It was an unexpected, glorious new weapon in his arsenal.
With a flick of his wand, he righted the cabinet, tidied the mess, and repaired the tears in his clothes. He scooped up the startled Kulkan from his bed, stroking the snake's smooth head to calm him, before finally collapsing into bed himself, his mind racing with the exhilarating possibilities of his new discovery. Sleep, when it finally came, was deep and satisfying.
The next morning, he was roused by a frantic pounding on his door. It was Blaise, looking panicked.
"Sean, get up! We're going to be late!"
Blaise was a master of waking up at the last possible second. For him to be this agitated meant they were truly cutting it fine. There would be no time for breakfast.
They sprinted through the dungeons, arriving at the Potions classroom just as the final bell chimed. Snape was already at the podium, his dark eyes sweeping over them with cold disapproval. He gave a curt, silent gesture for them to take their seats.
They had barely sat down when Harry and Ron burst in, breathless and red-faced. Snape's attention snapped to them like a predator spotting wounded prey. He launched into a three-minute, vitriolic tirade, his voice dripping with venom as he dissected Harry's "arrogant disregard" for punctuality, a crime, he insinuated, befitting only a so-called "Savior."
The class ended as it always did: with Sean brewing a flawless potion and earning ten points for Slytherin and with Harry and Ron having ten points deducted from Gryffindor for the crime of being late. Sean caught Harry's dejected gaze across the room and could only offer a small, sympathetic shrug.
Second year was a strangely relaxed time at Hogwarts. With no flying lessons and elective classes yet to begin, their schedule was relatively light. After Potions, Sean and Blaise headed to the library. Blaise had hoped to meet his new girlfriend there, but her schedule didn't align, so he was forced to reluctantly study with Sean instead.
Charms in the afternoon was, as usual, shared with the Ravenclaws. And, as usual, Sean had no opportunity to earn points. Professor Flitwick, though less overtly biased than Snape, still had a clear preference for his own house. Even when Sean's hand was first in the air, if a Ravenclaw's was even a fraction of a second behind, the point went to them. Today, the honor was snatched by Katharine Bishop, whose crisp, perfect answer earned her a beaming smile from their diminutive professor.
That evening, as the sun set, Sean, Blaise, and Jensen sat together in the Great Hall, enjoying the most abundant meal of the day. Sean's appetite, amplified by his unique talents, was a thing to behold. He devoured two whole roasted chickens with a mountain of mashed potatoes, followed by an entire rack of lamb chops, before finally leaning back, satisfied, with a large goblet of pumpkin juice.
"So, off to the Sprucewood Club later?" Blaise asked, eyeing the clean bones on Sean's plate with a mixture of awe and disgust.
"Of course," Sean replied. "I told you, didn't I?"
"You did," Blaise said, a mischievous glint in his eye. "I just wanted to remind you that Katharine Bishop is in that club. Gives you a chance to get closer to her. I think she's been paying attention to you."
Sean chuckled and gave Blaise a light tap on the head. "Nonsense. Don't project your own romantic obsessions onto everyone else. I highly doubt she's paying any attention to me at all."
[Chapter Complete]
***
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